The Red Maelstrom

[38] 木漏れ日

A/N: There's a lot of grief in this one for obvious reasons. If you're like me who gets easily triggered by such things, be mindful of the asterisks. If you see two (**), that means I'm about to touch on particularly heavy stuff.

Two days ago, Kohana had emerged from her home to a village brimming with life and uplifting energy for the day. The hustle and bustle of that morning amid the swelling summer heat haze felt like a distant memory juxtaposed with the current state of the village just hours later.

Today Kohana, the village, and the heavens mourned as it welcomed all lives lost during—and even at the aftermath of Orochimaru's siege. As Kohana, along with several shinobi, made their way to the Administrative Building, she cast her gaze upon the destruction that befell a number of districts. Some houses were destroyed completely, and others damaged almost beyond repair. All around were evidences of the previous days' hardships, tracks left by summons that obliterated the homes of so many civilians, but what caused the nausea to build within Kohana were the white camellia blossoms held between fingers of family members left behind.

Naruto stood at her side, uncharacteristically silent. He'd come to pick her up first thing in the morning of her release from the hospital with a strained smile. That smile had been laced with relief and genuine happiness at finally seeing his sister again, but bogged down by everything that had occurred thus far. Kohana could empathize, especially when she knew that he, too, had cried himself to sleep.

Kohana's pace slowed when she couldn't bear to look at the shadows beneath the villagers' swollen, bloodshot eyes. In the distance, she heard a man wailing inconsolably, and she refused the urge to cover her ears. Instead, she tightened her grip around the camellia stem in her hand, grounding herself with its cool and smooth texture while her limbs and fingers trembled like leaves. Naruto slowed down to match her pace, but he did look over at her knee with concerned eyes.

"Does it hurt, sis?" he asked.

Kohana shrugged nonchalantly. "Hurts a little from the cold, but I can walk just fine." It was all thanks to the hospital staff and the medical ninja, who never slept a wink to attend to everyone, regardless of whose injuries were worse. By three in the morning, some lives were deemed irretrievable, but most were able to emerge from the siege in stable conditions. But as thankful as Kohana was for the staff, regardless of the hope that was restored as she watched the villagers work with one another to save every single life, Kohana cried herself to sleep with her head sandwiched between two pillows, praying for the anguished screams and pained whimpers to end.

**

In the middle of the night, she'd overheard hysterical sobs echoing down unlit halls. Kohana could never shake the image of that lone figure curled up against the wall of the hallway in her undershirt and pants. Her hands, arms, face, and hair were streaked with blood, but beyond that, it was the despair in her eyes that would haunt Kohana indefinitely. Something about that image was unbearable, but at the same time, Kohana had continued to hide behind the doorframe of her shared room with her crutches held close to her for stability.

Another medic had rushed to the woman to comfort her, pleading that she speak. It took more than five minutes for her crying to die down, and as she willed herself to calm down, she did so by clenching her teeth and biting down on her arm to keep from disturbing the thirty or so patients on that same floor.

"It was a baby, and then it was a mother of three... and a chūnin who evacuated her family—I... Minoru-san, I remember their names. I-I heard them—I just... I can't stop seeing all of their faces," she'd whispered, and the horror in her voice rendered Kohana frozen in her spot.