Midnight Storm (Uncompleted)

Yellow Rose Blossoms

The five basic moral virtues; Chivalry, Righteousness, Virtue, Loyalty, and Vengeance.

~

The sound of muffled laughter as milky red eyes stared past me. His voice was warm, but aged like a withered old tree, but to be honest he is the spirit of a ginkgo tree so he could be one hundred years old for all I know. Trees tend to live much longer than most mortals...though sometimes not as long as most yokai.

Again, Naoki-jiji chuckled almost nostalgically.

"Hm, little wolf, I hope you can remember but if you don't. No loss there! Ahahaha."

When he calmed down from his laughter, as he then started humming. He did not start humming suddenly, but slowly.

Shaking his head, he laughed again. Mumbling something under his breathe as the sparrow started cockily pruning its feathers. Naoki-jiji turned to leave, waving a goodbye as he rang the gong again. A wave of vertigo and confusion washed over me, but left like as it came.

Naoki-jiji still continued humming though as he continued walking further into the forest.

The song was definitely off-tune, as though he were trying to compensate for missing instruments, but it was...familiar in a way. Sometimes he quieted as though straining to hear the next few notes to hum.

Fingers thrumming a beat to this melody.

Looking back up to the old yokai, I watched as he swayed to rhythm, like a melody, that only he could hear. Although he could not see, it felt like he was still watching even when I turned to leave. Seeing something I could not see, hearing a song I could not hear.

A long forgotten song.

Another wave of vertigo and confusion came about as the resonating sound of the gong rang out again. It was disconcerting, confusing my senses as he left. Scents shifted from damp earth and wood to vibrant colors. The blurry figure disappeared from my peripheral vision as the ground and sky danced under my feet.

When I regained my footing, he had disappeared. Leaving no traces, no footprints, no unique scents, only the lingering notes of his humming left to memory.

Huffing at his disappearance, I promised that I would become better at tracking then take that gong from him and tear it into two.

The taste of iron was left in my mouth as I made my way home.

~

The smell of paper and ink.

The rustle of clothing.

Aged eyes stared down at me from above, they seemed as though they were evaluating me. Searching for a weakness as it inspected me, as if I were a pet whose worthiness was not yet decided.

What was disguised as kindness was really pure indifference. The Hokage did not care, for my father had disappointed him as well so it is reasonable to assume the child will be just as much a disappointment. Yet he smiled, feigning weakness from old age as if that were to make me susceptible to his obvious attempts at trying to manipulate.

"Ah, Hatake Kakashi. My consolations for your father, a good man, Sakumo was. Such a shame he had to die in such a way..."

His words were mocking, instead of referring to him as his title he refers to Tou-san intimately. As though they were close, as though he did not send my father to his downfall.

A good man does not mean he will still not be a disappointment, all it means is he had potential. Potential to be good. A good little mutt that obeys his masters' orders, his every whim.