𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘉𝘌𝘋𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘓𝘌𝘋 𝘓𝘌𝘎𝘈𝘊𝘠 | ⁿᵃʳᵘᵗᵒ

Stolen Childhood

STOLEN CHILDHOOD

✧

Asami laid in her bed, back facing the door. Her little arms were pushed under the pillow supporting her head as she stared out the window overlooking the dark compound, only the occasional fire lit or candles inside homes casting light. Really, most were in bed now, snoring away. Asami was one of the only odd ones out who were having real trouble sleeping. Besides those keeping watch or on missions of course.

She couldn't get the Senju man out of her mind. No matter how hard she tried, his bloody image, the kunai covered in his blood... it haunted her memory. Her chest felt heavy, as though his large frame was still caging her against the ground without any hope of escape.

Asami pressed her face into the crook of her elbow and tangled her fingers in her hair, scrunching her face up as the horrifying images flashed in her mind again. There was a burning behind her eyes as though she was going to cry, but she didn't.

Everyone kept telling her what she did was the right thing. But it didn't feel right. It felt so wrong. Killing someone because they simply weren't an Uchiha? Maybe it was because she was young, and that's why she was having such a hard time getting it through her head. She was often told the reason she didn't understand things was because she was so young, so maybe this was one of those cases.

Sometimes she wished things weren't so complicated. Shinobi from her clan and many others were killed just fine without a second thought. Why was it so hard for her? The only reason she truly hadn't killed already in a place like the battle before was that is because she was... well... a girl.

Boys her age were often on the front lines.

It was unusual for women to become shinobi. It was a field dominated by men, and women were often entrusted with managing the home while the men fought. If a woman wanted a more active role in the clan they often became healers, but were hardly ever seen on the front lines. There were a couple of female shinobi, but not many.

Asami had expressed her desire to become a shinobi before, but her father had told her she needed to wait till she was at least nine to start her training. He was desperate for anything to keep her out of harm's way.

Nine was the age for her to just begin training. Such as simple chakra control and learning about tools. But what occurred in the forest not even three days ago, made her think maybe it was time for her to learn a bit earlier.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the image of the bloody man from her mind, and tried her best to get some sleep. After all, she would need all the rest she could get for the question she was to ask her father tomorrow.

Asami sat at the table the next morning for breakfast, legs tucked underneath herself. She pushed the rice around her bowl with her chopsticks and poked at the sunny-side-up egg her father had made, popping the yolk. It ran into the rice, mixing with the white grain.

"Asami, what's the matter?" Hana nudged Asami's arm, looking at her in concern. She had always known her twin to be the more aloof one who put thought into her actions, even if a little sneaky or conniving, but she never had a look this concentrated before. Something was bothering her, and she was going to figure out what.

"Nothing," Asami forced a small smile and poked her twin in the arm. "Mind your business."

Hana frowned, tilting her head to the side. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose braid, a few stray pieces hanging in her face as she gave her sister an unimpressed look.

The smile slowly slid off Asami's face. She turned her head away, looking at the egg in her bowl, the reflection of her saddened face in the golden yolk seeming to be mocking her.