Little White Lines

Secrets

The next day, Aroka awoke early, or at least she assumed it was early as most people seemed to be asleep.

She gazed over the clusters of little white lines before focusing on the area around her own.

The day wouldn't be very eventful. Much like most, she wouldn't be leaving her room today. In just a while, Mila's line would wake up and she would take her usual position outside the door. She'd be sent on a few errands later, though Aroka didn't yet know what they would be. The only line other line that would come close to hers that day would be Tobirama's; it seems they'd only speak for a short while, though. She wondered what it would be about.

Aroka stood and padded over to the door, sliding it open with a soft squeak. She took a deep breath as the cool morning air flowed in.

The young woman settled behind the small table and stared into the formless space that lay beyond her open door. She liked to keep it open whenever possible, even though she couldn't see past the doorframe.

Reaching underneath the little table, she brought out a rather faded book and opened it to where she'd left off. She didn't really need to read the book to know what it said, after all she had gone through it so many times before.

The thin book was titled "Yura Imada" and was bound by three discolored, faded strings.

Yura had lived nearly a century ago, born to the main family of the time. She lived a comfortable life, never having to labor in the fields or the silk shops. She had smooth brown hair that she'd kept short most her life and she was said to have been kind and soft-spoken.

But what about her would warrant a book detailing her life?

Only one thing, really. Yura was a seer.

Indeed, Yura Imada was the eighth seer born of her clan, a girl whose arrival was long awaited. Much like Aroka, Yura was born blind, her deep brown eyes developing a milky coat as she grew older.

Yura was taught to make use of her peculiar abilities by the elders of the clan, abilities that were particularly useful seeing as the Imada were in the middle of a decade-long war that was no longer in their favor.

The tides of the war changed quickly as Yura began to understand the meaning in the tangled mess of lines that lay behind her eyes. Under her advisement, the Imada shinobi eliminated spies, avoided traps, took out key leaders, burned supply lines, and ultimately won the war, against all odds. This was an enormous victory for the silkmakers, as their enemy had been a far more powerful clan, and with the resources gained from the ransom of a captured general, the Imada were able to expand and improve their small army which was already notably larger than its modern counterpart. This victory did not come without consequences, however. Due to excessive Detailing, Yura-

"Good morning Miss."

"Oh, good morning Mila." she looked up from the book and smiled.

"You know, I don't think I've ever actually seen you sleeping. How long have you been up?"

"Not too long, I slept rather well last night."

"You must have been tired from wandering around the compound for so long, I'm glad you could get some rest."

"I haven't been able to fall asleep so quickly in a long time. Maybe I should get lost more often." Aroka chuckled.

"The compound is certainly big enough for that." she grinned. "By the way, last night Senju-sama requested to speak to you as soon as you awoke, should I bring him here?"

"Not yet. I need find out a few things before we speak again, please close the door and send him away when he comes looking for me."

"Of course, Miss."