[log] try to say goodbye and i choke [Chiriku, Hoshino]
[[backdated to the day before Chiriku takes her leave.]]
The world was much, much easier to comprehend if you shrunk everything down to a reasonable size. When you watched an ant colony's dynamics, sorted through the what and the why of a hive, there was a sense of logic, order, basic instinct that came with it. Watching the human world was infinitely more difficult.
Hoshino wasn't actually sure how long it took her to make it to the shrine, or to stand outside staring at it, caught somewhere between not feeling sure of how to enter and not feeling sure why she wanted to in the first place. True, there was clearly something special about Chiriku. That wasn't easily denied. What was special... well, what was truly special about the situation was that the Aburame felt completely lost in it. She wasn't coming to talk about meditation, about centering herself or about 'bugs.' And, much as she wanted the meeting to be about wishing a special person a safe journey and passing along the appropriate 'farewell' sentiments, it really wasn't about goodbyes either.
In the end, the girl simply gave up and found herself going where she needed to go. Funny, really; the functioning part of her brain told her that 'where she needed to go' was the Inuzuka compound or the training ground (although she knew for sure that 'where she needed to go' was now officially not back under the covers, much as snuggling an ever-growing kitten helped). Still, she found herself slinking like shadow through the holy place, intently focused on finding the monk who was leaving and who would somehow make everything feel better before she left.
There was a colony under the building. That, at least, was comforting in a familiar way.
Shoin, Abbot Ieyoshi's unofficial second, was bustling along with a stack of linens when he noticed the kunoichi slip into the temple. "Oh, hello," he said cheerfully. He certainly fit the image of a monk. Thick and stocky and only the barest of fat, he was a happy man who found joy in helping others. The young woman before him was no exception, and his hazel eyes gazed out warmly. "How may I help you, Shinobi-san?"
It took Hoshino a moment to properly format the thought in her mind. How could he help her? How could anyone help her? Her mind was spinning on two different levels, one trying to pull together a sentence for the stranger and the other trying to figure out what sort of help she was hoping to find. Spiritual? Emotional? Grudging?
"...Chiriku-houshi is... leaving soon."
Good. A thought out. Kureno-sensei would be completely frustrated with her. The progress she'd made toward being a properly socialized creature was fading. Not like she had a lot on her mind lately or anything. Face emotionless, the girl examined the man carefully from behind her sunglasses, attempting to think of the sentence that came after the one she'd just spoken.
"Ahh, yes, Houshi-sama needs to return to the Great Temple. It was lovely while she was here, I admit. You wish to see her?" Shoin smiled. He would miss Chiriku-sama. He never really cared for the old abbot, and seeing Her Holiness in person, and seeing how she so fully embodied what it meant to be a monk of the faith... The memory would stay strong, and he would recall it often when training new novices, and whenever else her example would serve best.
Was it somehow not clear that the entire point of dragging herself out of her house and away from beating her frustration out on the training field and bringing up Chiriku in the first place was, in fact, to see the older woman? Hoshino couldn't help it. The inefficient use of words made her jaw slack slightly. Not enough to see behind the collar, but certainly enough to give her the general air of "..." that so often hung around her when she was forced interact with people who didn't understand her need for silence.
Shoin studied the young woman, then nodded as if to himself. Strange to see an Aburame in the temple, but her business was her own. "If you would follow me, Aburame-san," he said.
A quick detour to put the linens in a closet before continuing back towards the monks' quarters. Because of her place in the hierarchy, Chiriku-sama was staying in the abbot's room which was only a little more comfortable than the monks' regular cells. He knocked politely on the wooden door and waited for the call of "Enter!" before twisting the knob. "Someone to see you, Houshi-sama," he said when Chiriku-sama turned to face him. The duffel bag she had brought her belongings lay on the bed itself, and small piles around it.
"Thank you, Shoin," Chiriku said. Shoin bowed and stepped aside, allowing Aburame-san to pass through when she wanted.
It wasn't that her guide didn't seem like a perfectly wonderful human being. It was just that she wasn't here to see him. She was here (apparently) to see Chiriku. The silent impersonal brush-past meant little to nothing. The ability to restrain herself from slamming the door in the monk's face, on the other hand, showed a good deal of respect. And self-control.
"...you said I could come see you... before you left." Hoshino's tone--if one could call what the Aburame called 'vocal inflection' as anything remotely related to a tone of voice--was mildly accusatory. After all, it was the monk's fault the entomologist was here. Hoshino could have just gone on as she had been, frustrated and angry and snapping at people with her silences, rather than coming here to... well, she didn't know. To express the fact that she was hurt and afraid and wanted to have someone ruffle her hair the wrong way and to tell her what exactly the hell was wrong with the universe they were living in.
"And so I did," Chiriku said with soft warmth. She moved aside the things on her bed so that if Buggy-chan--Hoshino--wanted to sit, she could. In the time here, Asuka had told her quite a bit Chiriku would remain standing for as long as the younger woman did. She pushed aside her own sadness and worry and anger and fear about recent events in the village, about Kureno-san and Asuka, to focus her attention on the person before her. She didn't understand the almost accusatory tone, but understanding wasn't necessarily required. "How may I be of help?"
"You heard, didn't you?"
The accusation was gone, replaced instead with the mildest hint of something more like hurt than anything else. It was starting to show in her body language as well; hands fisted slightly in her pockets, shoulders inching up ever so slightly, eyes cast toward the ground. It was also starting to show in the obvious distraction hovering just behind her face, not willing to form a real expression but content to suggest something easily blocked by the ever-present dark glasses the girl was wearing.
There was no need to explain what it was Chiriku should have heard. The woman was friends with Asuka-sensei, knew Hoshino was a student of Kureno-sensei, and thus far had proven herself definitively to not be a moron. A few beats passed before the Aburame realized she'd been offered a seat. Somehow, the polite gesture seemed overwhelmingly confusing, causing the beginning of a slight twitchy motion, the sort of weight-shifting she usually got mad at Kiba for.
Chiriku figured Asuka and Kureno-san would be the reasons behind the visit. "I heard," she said with a touch of sadness. "I also witnessed Kureno-san being escorted from the hospital." A wave of despair hit as she couldn't help but think that she was responsible for his arrest. She might have been able to go to someone else, but if she had, she would have broken Asuka's confidence, and that... that she simply couldn't do. Her training forbade it. She had skirted the edges, and had spent the time since returning to the shrine in deep prayer and penance, but she couldn't truly be sorry for what she had done since if she hadn't, Asuka would be dead now. And it wounded her deeply to know that if she had to do it over again, she wouldn't change anything because it was Asuka.
A long period of penance would happen when she was home. She would confer with Takanobu to decide the appropriate measures to restore the balance. It would not be easy, but that was the whole point, wasn't it?
She closed here eyes for a moment to compose herself. She couldn't help Hoshino if she was too distracted by her own failings.
It was decidedly confusing. On the one hand, it made Hoshino want to freeze up completely, to push everything back down inside and say goodbye and head home to stare sullenly at her wall again. On the other hand, it made her want to sit down on the bed, curl in on herself, and just talk about how terrifying and isolating it was to have this sort of thing happen. On yet another hand, it made her want to pet the older woman on the head and tell her everything was going to be fine.
None of the options made any sense in this situation. Well, the first one was what she thought logical to do, given her mood. The second was a slightly less clinical version of what Kureno-sensei would probably have told her to do, given her need to de-stress if she wanted to be anything like useful. The third was the sort of thing that probably only worked on Kiba and Naruko and probably Hinaji.
...on some other hand, though, having hair ruffled had seemed like it would probably help. Maybe the third option was the way to go. Underneath her skin, the kikaichuu changed their pitch. A small party swarmed almost silently to Hoshino's hand as she reached out, slipping over her outstretched fingers to splay out peacefully over the monk's shoulders.
The monk blinked when she heard a faint buzzing, and realized it came from the spots of kikaichuu speckling her shoulders. She smiled faintly at the tiny insects, watching them run around on the bright orange fabric. Lifting a hand she touched her shoulder, the smile becoming more sure when a few of the specks swirled onto her fingers and hand. "Thank you, Hoshino-san," she said softly.
Shrugging slightly, the girl let her hand drop, fairly confident that the chakra-eating insects would be happy exploring Chiriku for a while. Part of her mind wandered off into speculation on whether the kikai would miss the older woman, or if they'd only experience a reflection of her own emotions. The rest of her brain guided her to sit lightly on the space cleared on the bed. "...couldn't leave you sad," Hoshino explained, her usual deadpan slightly softened by the exhaustion of not being a child the first 18 years of your life. "I wanted advice. On being happy."
Chiriku sat beside the girl on the bed. "I appreciate the gesture, truly." She watched the kikai a bit longer, then lifted her head at Hoshino's request. The girl didn't ask for much now, now did she. Chiriku considered this, her expression becoming less worn and stressed and more thoughtful. Advising someone on being happy? Not easily done. Most people tended to at least have an idea of what makes themselves happy, but most people weren't Aburame. She had learned quite a bit about that clan during the past year, mostly by being around when Shoin explained the various clans and families in the village to Ieyoshi. The Aburame clan were reserved to the point of cold apathy but that was more because of their lifestyle. Very few weren't disgusted by the fact that those born to the clan housed colonies of insects inside their skin, and that coldness was a defense mechanism from being hurt.
Which made Hoshino's obvious-by-comparison emotions odd. If she was showing even these glimpses, then... "I will do my best to do what I can to advise, Hoshino-san. Though I expect that so long as Kureno-san is incarcerated and Asuka is in the hospital--" Don't think about that now. "--finding a significant measure of happiness right now could prove difficult." Chiriku was a firm believer in honesty though normally she took better care to blunt it to something more acceptable without detracting from the truth. With Hoshino, Chiriku expected the girl would rather have it straight up. "But that doesn't mean we can't explore avenues could be helpful for after his released."
"Is someone taking care of the cat?"
It bubbled up. Hoshino hated it when things bubbled up. That was just the way things had been happening lately, she guessed. Emotions, words, moderately incoherent thoughts and opinions; her mother was getting worried about her, frankly, holding her daughter's wrist at the table while they sat in silence over cold tea. The worst thing of all was when they knelt side by side, checking through the garden methodically for the little ones they were studying, and Hoshino felt the impulse to reach over and latch on like a little girl. She didn't even want to cry. She just wanted to be immature and tired.
Frankly, she couldn't even remember if the cat were still around. It had been her connecting point with Asuka-sensei, odd and half-formed as the brief alliance had been, but it stuck with her. Asuka-sensei was a strong woman in a wholly different way than Aburame Hoshibi was. On top of that, she was ten times easier to talk about at this point than Kureno-sensei. It also served moderately as a 'something to say' in the conversation. There was something very intimidating and mind-shutting-down about the older woman's concluding sentiment.
Chiriku smiled. "Yes; Asuka's niece Konohako's taking care of Mister." She knew that, at least; Asuka mentioned in passing when talking about Mister how at least one good thing about Konohako living with her was that when she had to go on missions, Konohako was still around to feed and water the cat and clear out the litter box. Though Chiriku could've kicked herself all the way back to the temple for not considering the kitten Asuka had adopted before now. Stupid of her!
Mentally she sighed. She was only as human as the rest of them, and even she could get caught up in the storm of emotions that surged when a loved one was hurt. Especially when the suspicion that Asuka had deliberately set things up that way just added to the fury of concern.
Chiriku was able to use a sudden, unexpected moment of clarity to 'step aside' from her own emotions to really look at Hoshino. And what she saw pulled hard. She saw a child worried sick about the people she cared greatly about and distraught enough that her usual second-nature composure was pretty much shattered, and the emotions coming forth did not help at all. Understanding and compassion filled the monk, and without warning she slowly drew the girl into a hug, keeping her arms loose so as not to be threatening and to also allow Hoshino the chance to pull away if she wanted.
It was the sort of thing that made shinobi completely twitchy. The vast majority of people did this sort of thing, hugged and petted and generally touched each other without warning. Although the action was clearly deferential to those instincts, appropriately submissive as an action so as not to be overwhelming or completely startling. There were additional mental blocks for an Aburame to get over, in addition to suppressing the 'it touched me without warning it must die before it kills me' instinct. Hoshino understood hugs, mechanically and theoretically. In practice, it was pulling your arms around someone else and holding them in a safe, warm place (unless you were just being obnoxious and attempting to get dog hair on your teammate's clean jacket, in which case there was some degree of violence involved as well). In theory, doing this would calm someone down, let someone know he or she was not alone, give someone a quiet sanctuary for a moment or two while he or she got his or her head on straight again.
How inquiring after a kitten had earned her a hug was something of a mystery.
After the initial freeze, Hoshino curled in on herself again slightly, not quite leaning into the embrace but certainly not pushing it away. Her voice flitted back to its usual monotone, trying to keep the conversation as detached from the hug as much as possible. There would be time to explore the emotionality of it later, once she'd gotten control of herself again. "...Konohako-san is... taking it well?"
"She's worried," Chiriku replied. "But I think she is taking it well. I... haven't really much looked to how the others were taking it." The last part, the confession, came out in a whisper. She hadn't looked to the welfare of others. She'd been incredibly selfish, thinking of only herself, and worrying about Rin-san and Kureno-san because they were the ones she had asked to go after Asuka, and the last time she had seen Rin-san he looked like the walking dead while Kureno-san, splashed liberally with blood, had been arrested for treason. She didn't know why he had been arrested for that and the absurdity appalled.
However, she was a civilian, and as Hyuuga-sama so politely reminded her without directly stating, the matter did not concern her. Even though it did, seeing as Chiriku was the one to tell Kureno-san and Rin-san, and then tell the ANBU they had gone.
She just held Hoshino loosely, taking as much comfort from the girl's presence as she hoped Hoshino took from Chiriku's.
It was strange, sitting this way with someone who wasn't Kiba or Hinaji. Not quite disconcerting, but decidedly strange. She had to tilt her head a little to get a proper glace at the other woman's face, so instead she simply listened quietly to the soft hum of her kikaichuu. They were picking up something subdued that didn't really have much to do with chakra flares or... well, really anything useful at all, from what she could tell. After all, it was apparent enough that the monk was experiencing some intense and deep-rooted emotions. Perhaps, some day, she'd train them to identify emotional responses, talk to a doctor about how the human body gave off signals so that she wouldn't have to stop and think and decide what the person she was talking with was feeling. Her own emotions were difficult enough, without having to understand someone else's as well.
"...you've been worried," the kunoichi responded at length, looking down at her lap and not caring that it made her glasses slide a little. The room was dark enough for it not to matter. What really mattered, after all, was the self being worried. And what was really scary, after all, was that it didn't look like Chiriku had figured out how to fix that entirely either. So much for coming to the shrine for enlightenment.
Chiriku didn't reply immediately. "Very. She's my best friend, Hoshino-san, and... there's nothing I could do, or can do, to help her." And that was all she would say on the matter. Hoshino had come to her for comfort; it wasn't fair for her to still be so needing it herself. She drew her arms back back, not realizing it when a hand reached out to push the girl's hood back enough to briefly ruffle the short dark hair hidden beneath. "My apologies, Hoshino-san, I shouldn't be bothering you with this," she murmured before she let her hands drop into her lap.
That was it.
The transition was beautiful. Even as she fell into it, Hoshino could appreciate how perfect the interaction had been. First, expose a weakness: Chiriku's emotions had flared almost visibly around her, showing someone soft and fragile and human and therefore perfect for understanding the Aburame's own soft, fragile, human emotions. Second, the physical transition: moving from a slightly awkward hug to the physical interaction Hoshino liked best, a simple ruffling of hair and close proximity. Coupled with the simple spoken invitation, the obvious 'it's your turn now, dear,' the total effect was overwhelming. A wave of upset, injured words bubbled up in Hoshino's throat, ready to spill out and gut themselves all over the conversation.
One shaky inhale later, the Aburame was in control of herself. True, she did reach up to pull her hood off the rest of the way, threading her fingers compulsively through her hair to push it back into place, and the kikaichuu did lift off of Chiriku's shoulder to hover around their host's head with something like concern. It was still a step up from feeling her shell about to crack.
"It's hard for you as well. You... shouldn't be apologizing."
As much as Chiriku wanted to brush it off, to reinforce the fact she was a monk, she was still an intelligent woman and therefore she knew to do so would be simply stupid. She watched the kikai float around Hoshino like black snow and went into a light meditative state to calm herself down. Nothing to make her unaware, but enough of a detachment that she didn't feel so foolishly female.
She just nodded in reply to Hoshino, not trusting herself to speak at present. Tomorrow before she left she would try to see Asuka, ICU or no ICU. She couldn't just leave without saying goodbye. She wasn't sure how else she could help Hoshino right now. But she could try?
"...is it bad," Hoshino asked rather suddenly, lifting her head and tilting it to watch Chiriku through her sunglasses, "that it makes things feel better to... know other people are suffering as well?" It certainly didn't seem like a good thing. For example, it bothered the hell out of her that Kiba and Hinaji were upset. She hated it when her mother or Kureno-sensei were frustrated or hurting about something. So it didn't make any sense that coming here and seeing how the recent events in Konoha had been disturbing to Chiriku should make her feel... calmer.
Like maybe things weren't as scary as she'd first thought.
That prompted a half-smile. "No," Chiriku replied. "Sometimes it helps to know others are as worried and upset as you, and for the same reasons. 'Misery loves company' isn't just a saying. Grief can... provide a bridge, and let you know you're not alone. That's the worst thing in the world, to feel like you're alone, that you're cut of and isolated from others, that there's no one who's reaching out back to you. Humans are social creatures. To live totally alone, with no interaction, period, is maddening.
"So no, Hoshino-san, it's not a bad thing. If it helps, then that's what is important, yes?"
That took a few minutes to process. It was easy enough to understand a colony's dynamics when observing from the outside, but understanding the sociability of humanity... Hoshino glanced toward the far wall for a moment, contemplating. Other people instinctively understood this, sought each other purposefully, created communities and helped each other with this sort of shared pain. In a way, she was doing that as well. Seeking out her sensei when something was troubling her, 'bumping into' Asuka-sensei when her own sensei was troubling her, spending time with her team simply because it felt nice to be around them. Even waving back when Naruko or Leigh shouted greetings on their way to somewhere else. Funny, how socialization could sneak up on a person.
At the same time, it was nearly impossible to understand. As a child, these things hadn't been explained to her. What most toddlers got every day, Hoshino hadn't really been a part of until joining the academy and (more accurately) her genin cell. It required special consideration, therefore, that this logic might actually be sensible. After all, hadn't that been the beginning of her life? Alone? Isolated from the people who made that odd face when an Aburame walked by? Complicated creatures, humans. Much easier to explain why a termite sought the houses nearest the river.
"And it won't... just make everyone else feel worse?"
"For a while, maybe. But the bond is there, and we can't be miserable forever. When we're happier, that bond means you can share the feeling with the one you were miserable with, and feel it reflected back to magnify your own good feeling. It doesn't make sense," Chiriku admitted, "but it works." Her faint smile grew into a grin. "Asuka didn't understand it when we first met, and I know she doesn't understand it now, but she at least accepts it. And we've both grown stronger, I would say, from it."
That, perhaps, made sense. Much as she was sure that she and her teammates still didn't really understand each other, they accepted each other. They'd certainly grown stronger from knowing each other. Apply that connection to grief, and...? Hoshino scrunched up her nose for a second, head tilting slightly to the right as she worked the pieces together. It would probably be easier to understand when they were all happy again. If that ever happened.
When that happened. The Village had survived a hell of a lot already; it would keep on surviving, even though the world gave off the distinct impression of being about to end. Turning almost sharply to look at the monk, Hoshino said deliberately, "We're going to miss you."
"And I'll miss you, too," the monk replied. "I don't expect I'll be able to leave the temple for a long time but you're always welcome to write me. Or even visit if you feel so inclined." Excepting next year's tour of duty with the Daimyo. Oh, that would be fun. She had a year to get ready for another year-long absense, and unlike the time in Konoha she would have absolutely no constructive contact with the Temple while she guarded the Daimyo. Actually, not even a year. They would be starting in July. Ten-and-a-half-months maybe.
Time to get reacquainted with coffee. The caffiene headaches would hurt, but she would probably need to subsist on as little actual sleep as possible for the next half-year. Sigh.
Write. Write letters, one assumed. About what? It wasn't as if the two of them had fallen into an intensely personal relationship which would require a good deal of maintenance while they were apart. It also wasn't as though she, somehow, was the best person to ask for general updates on Konoha. Quite an odd relationship, now that she sat and thought about it, scanning over the room and the items remaining to be packed. Obviously it was a comforting and comfortable relationship (or else she wouldn't be here), and yet sitting there on the edge of the bed, Hoshino couldn't make herself open up fully. The slowly accumulated trust which had taken those closest to the Aburame years to cultivate wasn't there. Something else was, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
Maybe this was just something true about holy people. Instinct wanted you to trust them and find solace in their company. Biting the inside of her cheek absently, Hoshino tried to think of what came next. That's when the walls came up again. Now that she was here, it was infinitely apparent that she was supposed to be here, that this had been the right course of action. "...I should... let you pack?"
"Have you found what you were looking for?" Chiriku asked as a reply. If there was something she could still do to help the kunoichi, she would. The packing could and would wait.
"What I was looking for...?" Repeating the question back didn't help, nor did staring blankly at the monk. Hoshino opened her mouth, then closed it again, hoping it hadn't been noticed behind her collar. What had she been looking for? Well, really, if you got right down to it, she'd been looking for a place to be. Not really for any particular comfort, or for the anger at having Kureno-sensei taken away to be gone, or for a quick fix to the hurt she felt at the moment whenever she let her thoughts drift from a direct objective. Hoshino couldn't describe her aim in coming, of course. Not out loud. Maybe her sensei could have looked at her just then and half-smiled and explained what it was she wanted to express to Chiriku. Given that he wasn't there, she made her best attempt. "...I was looking for you, houshi-sama."
Chiriku smiled and reached out to ruffle the girl's hair again. "You found me, Hoshino-san. And you can stay here as long as you like." Moving her hand again to help in re-straightening out her Hoshino's hair again, Chiriku stood and smoothed her robes. "If you don't mind me packing. Tomorrow's the latest I can stay."
It took will power and effort, but Hoshino successfully avoided smiling or generally looking pleased about the affectionate gesture. Years of not showing anything paid off in these sorts of situations. As Chiriku stood again, the girl shrugged slightly. It took a single deft movement to lift herself on the bed, folding her legs under herself and settling in again to pick at some lint on her sleeve as if she hadn't really moved at all. It was peaceful here. It wasn't as good a place to be as any, after all; it was the right place to be. The right time to leave would come when it did.
"You'll... go see Asuka-sensei tomorrow before you go?"
"If I can," Chiriku answered quietly. "She's still in intensive care, and with the trouble swirling around... I'll try and see her. If nothing else, I will try." She refused to entertain the thought that she wouldn't succeed. Asuka was her best friend; Chiriku would see her before she left. She would do whatever she had to in order to make that happen, though she fervently wished the path to get there would be an easy one. "You'll see Kureno-san for me, when you can?"
"...after I see him for myself."
It was intensely important, after all, for the three of them. Team 8 needed to see the Yuuhi, to make eye contact with him and hear his voice and (hopefully) feel him clinging and then pushing them away in annoyance when the collective possessive pouncing occurred. Of course regards could be passed on from Chiriku; that was important as well. The team came first, however. Just like it always did.
"It's..." Hoshino's voice trailed off for a moment. Talking was still such a bitch, even all these years after she'd been introduced to verbal communication. "...it's hard. In a different way. Different than how it's hard about Asuka-sensei, or when Kiba wasn't well."
Chiriku nodded in understanding. The bonds that formed between the students of a genin cell and teacher was a strong one. Sensei had occasionally reminisced of his sensei and his cell-mates and the genin he took on. She liked to think that she and he had had something similiar, for all that he had practically raised her.
"He's your sensei," she said, she said as she folded the extra robes she had brought. "That bond is something stronger than most others you have had or will have. He isn't your father, and never will be, but in the ways that matter, he is. He is the teacher who guides you on the path you have chosen for yourself. He was the one who turned those book-lessons into practical knowledge, and the one you sometimes feel more comfortable going to with your problems and your joys than your own parents. Because while your parents love you, they're more observers whereas your sensei is right there in the thick of it with you until the day you must stand tall and walk on your own. To have him taken away, through no rational reason that you can understand... It's akin to a deathblow that doesn't kill, and you don't feel right until you can see him again." She didn't know who she was really talking to, by the end. Hoshino, or herself, when she had to struggle with the grief and loss of losing Sensei to old age. The only joy she could find at that time, besides knowing she had Asuka to lean on, was that he had passed peacefully in his sleep, surrounded by those he loved, and secure in the knowledge that those he left behind would be well-prepared. For a shinobi it was the absolute best death he could have had, and she would never begrudge him that.
She still missed him.
For a moment, Hoshino removed herself clinically from the situation to examine the words. It was the sort of thing she usually did to rework a plan in the middle of a mission, most often because Kiba was hissing distractingly into her ear or Hinaji was giving her a look and nothing would click until she shut out everything but the few choice pieces of information she needed to focus on. In this case, she sectioned off the emotions stirring in her own chest and ignored the slight hint of personal loss in the monk's voice, instead looking at the cold, hard facts of the words being spoken.
It would have been different if Kureno-sensei had been a woman. It... wouldn't have worked. He was like a father, after all. There had been a gap she hadn't known existed, growing up predominantly with only her mother, and he'd slipped into it perfectly. He wasn't a parent, but he was part of the family dynamic. Kiba wasn't a sister, either, and Hinaji certainly wasn't a brother. They were part of the dynamic too. There were so many broken biological families in the village; someone's mother had been killed That Day, someone's younger brother didn't make it back from a mission. Maybe this was the secret to staying sane. Maybe shinobi had to make their own families, to connect with people on the same level as a blood relation to fill in holes before the tears became overwhelming and the fabric was ripped to pieces.
"...it will hurt more when he dies."
Aburames didn't do listless very well. Hoshino was close. A little too present in the situation, removed from the emotions but puzzled by it, working it over in her mind with too much intensity to really be completely gone. It was true, of course. This horrible pain deep in her chest would be much, much worse when Kureno-sensei was gone forever. Now, at least, there was comfort in the knowledge that he was still breathing somewhere and they'd have him back again.
She refused to admit to herself that it was more along the lines of 'they'd probably have him back again.'
"It will. But he's still alive. You will see him again." Chiriku said this with a certainty too strong to allow for any doubt. "It may take some time, but you will see him. And it won't hurt anymore." She considered the ceremonial robes. Should she fold them to carry in her bag, or should she just have them shipped back to the temple? Shipping sounded better; she didn't believe she would be accosted but the less items of monetary value she carried on her, the better. At least if she shipped them she could get insurance. She began folding them down into as small and neat a square as she could so she could set them aside in the 'ship me' pile.
"Promise?"
It was a childish reaction, but it fit into the mood of the moment (as far as Hoshino could read any moment, let alone this one). It sounded right when Chiriku said it. That didn't make Hoshino any less the person who acted as the foil to people like Kiba. It was so easy to believe that everything was going to work out somehow or other, when a person sat back and considered the people involved and the motivations they had to make things work out for the best. What wasn't easy was holding things in persepcetive, not allowing them to slip and smooth over hard details. There were some things which were simply impossible. This shouldn't be one of them. But if it was...
...well, a certain young entomologist figured she had a better chance being prepared for the worst than being disappointed cruelly later. Not the most optimistic outlook on life, perhaps, but it got her from day to day.
"I promise." The words came immediately; no hesitation, no deliberation. Chiriku was looking at Hoshino, too, when she spoke, and her deep dark eyes held only truth as she seemed to look into Hoshino's own despite the sunglasses.
Hoshino wasn't the sort of person who smiled to reassure people that she was happy or comfortable or simply paying attention to the situation. Smiles were reserved, treated with respect and not tossed around casually. In fact, facial expressions in general were sanctioned off, used only if there was intense need. As it was, the girl lifted both eyebrows very slightly, face blank, and gave something like a nod. In the end, it amounted to the same confirmation as a smile would have, didn't it?
"If you say so, houshi-sama." Her attention fell back to her hands, still fiddling with a loose string on her coat sleeve. She'd snip and stitch it back into place when she got home. Until then, it was a good way to use the nervous energy she'd yet to define.
Chiriku hummed softly as she returned to her packing. She had limited space in her bag, and she had originally only planned on being here two weeks, but the longer she had been here, the more things she accumulated. It was with no small amount of irony that the majority of stuff she was shipping to the temple had originally come from there. Maybe she could just pretend they were presents when they finally arrived. Heck, for all she knew they would beat her home. Not that she was about to race the packages home. She would make her own pace. Not hurrying, but not needlessly dawdling either.
There was a moment or two of simple quiet peace. The silence in this room, punctuated by Chiriku's soft humming, had a different quality than the silence back home. Home was silent silence. Every rustle of wings had to be heard distinctly and instantly understood, giving the silence what had been described as an 'eerie un-human hum.' Hoshino had to agree, after pointing out rather crossly that 'un-human' wasn't a real word. It was what she was used to, the silence of insects and absence of humanity, and it set her at ease. This intensely human silence, however, made her comfortable. Strange. Good information nonetheless.
Eventually Hoshino shook herself out of the vaguely meditation-like daze she'd fallen into watching the older woman pack. Without words, she slipped to her feet again, body unfolding with a quick cat-like stretch before she flipped her hood back up. She'd come here to say goodbye, after all, hadn't she? It was simply a matter of sliding across the floor and slinking her arms quietly around Chiriku's waist. After all, she owed the monk a hug, didn't she?
And hugs did make things feel better. No need to admit it out loud, but fine to acknowledge now.
(It wasn't like Chiriku would have the time or state of mind to find Kiba and confirm the Inuzuka's suspicion that Hoshino did, in fact, enjoy being hugged and cuddled.)
The world was much, much easier to comprehend if you shrunk everything down to a reasonable size. When you watched an ant colony's dynamics, sorted through the what and the why of a hive, there was a sense of logic, order, basic instinct that came with it. Watching the human world was infinitely more difficult.
Hoshino wasn't actually sure how long it took her to make it to the shrine, or to stand outside staring at it, caught somewhere between not feeling sure of how to enter and not feeling sure why she wanted to in the first place. True, there was clearly something special about Chiriku. That wasn't easily denied. What was special... well, what was truly special about the situation was that the Aburame felt completely lost in it. She wasn't coming to talk about meditation, about centering herself or about 'bugs.' And, much as she wanted the meeting to be about wishing a special person a safe journey and passing along the appropriate 'farewell' sentiments, it really wasn't about goodbyes either.
In the end, the girl simply gave up and found herself going where she needed to go. Funny, really; the functioning part of her brain told her that 'where she needed to go' was the Inuzuka compound or the training ground (although she knew for sure that 'where she needed to go' was now officially not back under the covers, much as snuggling an ever-growing kitten helped). Still, she found herself slinking like shadow through the holy place, intently focused on finding the monk who was leaving and who would somehow make everything feel better before she left.
There was a colony under the building. That, at least, was comforting in a familiar way.
Shoin, Abbot Ieyoshi's unofficial second, was bustling along with a stack of linens when he noticed the kunoichi slip into the temple. "Oh, hello," he said cheerfully. He certainly fit the image of a monk. Thick and stocky and only the barest of fat, he was a happy man who found joy in helping others. The young woman before him was no exception, and his hazel eyes gazed out warmly. "How may I help you, Shinobi-san?"
It took Hoshino a moment to properly format the thought in her mind. How could he help her? How could anyone help her? Her mind was spinning on two different levels, one trying to pull together a sentence for the stranger and the other trying to figure out what sort of help she was hoping to find. Spiritual? Emotional? Grudging?
"...Chiriku-houshi is... leaving soon."
Good. A thought out. Kureno-sensei would be completely frustrated with her. The progress she'd made toward being a properly socialized creature was fading. Not like she had a lot on her mind lately or anything. Face emotionless, the girl examined the man carefully from behind her sunglasses, attempting to think of the sentence that came after the one she'd just spoken.
"Ahh, yes, Houshi-sama needs to return to the Great Temple. It was lovely while she was here, I admit. You wish to see her?" Shoin smiled. He would miss Chiriku-sama. He never really cared for the old abbot, and seeing Her Holiness in person, and seeing how she so fully embodied what it meant to be a monk of the faith... The memory would stay strong, and he would recall it often when training new novices, and whenever else her example would serve best.
Was it somehow not clear that the entire point of dragging herself out of her house and away from beating her frustration out on the training field and bringing up Chiriku in the first place was, in fact, to see the older woman? Hoshino couldn't help it. The inefficient use of words made her jaw slack slightly. Not enough to see behind the collar, but certainly enough to give her the general air of "..." that so often hung around her when she was forced interact with people who didn't understand her need for silence.
Shoin studied the young woman, then nodded as if to himself. Strange to see an Aburame in the temple, but her business was her own. "If you would follow me, Aburame-san," he said.
A quick detour to put the linens in a closet before continuing back towards the monks' quarters. Because of her place in the hierarchy, Chiriku-sama was staying in the abbot's room which was only a little more comfortable than the monks' regular cells. He knocked politely on the wooden door and waited for the call of "Enter!" before twisting the knob. "Someone to see you, Houshi-sama," he said when Chiriku-sama turned to face him. The duffel bag she had brought her belongings lay on the bed itself, and small piles around it.
"Thank you, Shoin," Chiriku said. Shoin bowed and stepped aside, allowing Aburame-san to pass through when she wanted.
It wasn't that her guide didn't seem like a perfectly wonderful human being. It was just that she wasn't here to see him. She was here (apparently) to see Chiriku. The silent impersonal brush-past meant little to nothing. The ability to restrain herself from slamming the door in the monk's face, on the other hand, showed a good deal of respect. And self-control.
"...you said I could come see you... before you left." Hoshino's tone--if one could call what the Aburame called 'vocal inflection' as anything remotely related to a tone of voice--was mildly accusatory. After all, it was the monk's fault the entomologist was here. Hoshino could have just gone on as she had been, frustrated and angry and snapping at people with her silences, rather than coming here to... well, she didn't know. To express the fact that she was hurt and afraid and wanted to have someone ruffle her hair the wrong way and to tell her what exactly the hell was wrong with the universe they were living in.
"And so I did," Chiriku said with soft warmth. She moved aside the things on her bed so that if Buggy-chan--Hoshino--wanted to sit, she could. In the time here, Asuka had told her quite a bit Chiriku would remain standing for as long as the younger woman did. She pushed aside her own sadness and worry and anger and fear about recent events in the village, about Kureno-san and Asuka, to focus her attention on the person before her. She didn't understand the almost accusatory tone, but understanding wasn't necessarily required. "How may I be of help?"
"You heard, didn't you?"
The accusation was gone, replaced instead with the mildest hint of something more like hurt than anything else. It was starting to show in her body language as well; hands fisted slightly in her pockets, shoulders inching up ever so slightly, eyes cast toward the ground. It was also starting to show in the obvious distraction hovering just behind her face, not willing to form a real expression but content to suggest something easily blocked by the ever-present dark glasses the girl was wearing.
There was no need to explain what it was Chiriku should have heard. The woman was friends with Asuka-sensei, knew Hoshino was a student of Kureno-sensei, and thus far had proven herself definitively to not be a moron. A few beats passed before the Aburame realized she'd been offered a seat. Somehow, the polite gesture seemed overwhelmingly confusing, causing the beginning of a slight twitchy motion, the sort of weight-shifting she usually got mad at Kiba for.
Chiriku figured Asuka and Kureno-san would be the reasons behind the visit. "I heard," she said with a touch of sadness. "I also witnessed Kureno-san being escorted from the hospital." A wave of despair hit as she couldn't help but think that she was responsible for his arrest. She might have been able to go to someone else, but if she had, she would have broken Asuka's confidence, and that... that she simply couldn't do. Her training forbade it. She had skirted the edges, and had spent the time since returning to the shrine in deep prayer and penance, but she couldn't truly be sorry for what she had done since if she hadn't, Asuka would be dead now. And it wounded her deeply to know that if she had to do it over again, she wouldn't change anything because it was Asuka.
A long period of penance would happen when she was home. She would confer with Takanobu to decide the appropriate measures to restore the balance. It would not be easy, but that was the whole point, wasn't it?
She closed here eyes for a moment to compose herself. She couldn't help Hoshino if she was too distracted by her own failings.
It was decidedly confusing. On the one hand, it made Hoshino want to freeze up completely, to push everything back down inside and say goodbye and head home to stare sullenly at her wall again. On the other hand, it made her want to sit down on the bed, curl in on herself, and just talk about how terrifying and isolating it was to have this sort of thing happen. On yet another hand, it made her want to pet the older woman on the head and tell her everything was going to be fine.
None of the options made any sense in this situation. Well, the first one was what she thought logical to do, given her mood. The second was a slightly less clinical version of what Kureno-sensei would probably have told her to do, given her need to de-stress if she wanted to be anything like useful. The third was the sort of thing that probably only worked on Kiba and Naruko and probably Hinaji.
...on some other hand, though, having hair ruffled had seemed like it would probably help. Maybe the third option was the way to go. Underneath her skin, the kikaichuu changed their pitch. A small party swarmed almost silently to Hoshino's hand as she reached out, slipping over her outstretched fingers to splay out peacefully over the monk's shoulders.
The monk blinked when she heard a faint buzzing, and realized it came from the spots of kikaichuu speckling her shoulders. She smiled faintly at the tiny insects, watching them run around on the bright orange fabric. Lifting a hand she touched her shoulder, the smile becoming more sure when a few of the specks swirled onto her fingers and hand. "Thank you, Hoshino-san," she said softly.
Shrugging slightly, the girl let her hand drop, fairly confident that the chakra-eating insects would be happy exploring Chiriku for a while. Part of her mind wandered off into speculation on whether the kikai would miss the older woman, or if they'd only experience a reflection of her own emotions. The rest of her brain guided her to sit lightly on the space cleared on the bed. "...couldn't leave you sad," Hoshino explained, her usual deadpan slightly softened by the exhaustion of not being a child the first 18 years of your life. "I wanted advice. On being happy."
Chiriku sat beside the girl on the bed. "I appreciate the gesture, truly." She watched the kikai a bit longer, then lifted her head at Hoshino's request. The girl didn't ask for much now, now did she. Chiriku considered this, her expression becoming less worn and stressed and more thoughtful. Advising someone on being happy? Not easily done. Most people tended to at least have an idea of what makes themselves happy, but most people weren't Aburame. She had learned quite a bit about that clan during the past year, mostly by being around when Shoin explained the various clans and families in the village to Ieyoshi. The Aburame clan were reserved to the point of cold apathy but that was more because of their lifestyle. Very few weren't disgusted by the fact that those born to the clan housed colonies of insects inside their skin, and that coldness was a defense mechanism from being hurt.
Which made Hoshino's obvious-by-comparison emotions odd. If she was showing even these glimpses, then... "I will do my best to do what I can to advise, Hoshino-san. Though I expect that so long as Kureno-san is incarcerated and Asuka is in the hospital--" Don't think about that now. "--finding a significant measure of happiness right now could prove difficult." Chiriku was a firm believer in honesty though normally she took better care to blunt it to something more acceptable without detracting from the truth. With Hoshino, Chiriku expected the girl would rather have it straight up. "But that doesn't mean we can't explore avenues could be helpful for after his released."
"Is someone taking care of the cat?"
It bubbled up. Hoshino hated it when things bubbled up. That was just the way things had been happening lately, she guessed. Emotions, words, moderately incoherent thoughts and opinions; her mother was getting worried about her, frankly, holding her daughter's wrist at the table while they sat in silence over cold tea. The worst thing of all was when they knelt side by side, checking through the garden methodically for the little ones they were studying, and Hoshino felt the impulse to reach over and latch on like a little girl. She didn't even want to cry. She just wanted to be immature and tired.
Frankly, she couldn't even remember if the cat were still around. It had been her connecting point with Asuka-sensei, odd and half-formed as the brief alliance had been, but it stuck with her. Asuka-sensei was a strong woman in a wholly different way than Aburame Hoshibi was. On top of that, she was ten times easier to talk about at this point than Kureno-sensei. It also served moderately as a 'something to say' in the conversation. There was something very intimidating and mind-shutting-down about the older woman's concluding sentiment.
Chiriku smiled. "Yes; Asuka's niece Konohako's taking care of Mister." She knew that, at least; Asuka mentioned in passing when talking about Mister how at least one good thing about Konohako living with her was that when she had to go on missions, Konohako was still around to feed and water the cat and clear out the litter box. Though Chiriku could've kicked herself all the way back to the temple for not considering the kitten Asuka had adopted before now. Stupid of her!
Mentally she sighed. She was only as human as the rest of them, and even she could get caught up in the storm of emotions that surged when a loved one was hurt. Especially when the suspicion that Asuka had deliberately set things up that way just added to the fury of concern.
Chiriku was able to use a sudden, unexpected moment of clarity to 'step aside' from her own emotions to really look at Hoshino. And what she saw pulled hard. She saw a child worried sick about the people she cared greatly about and distraught enough that her usual second-nature composure was pretty much shattered, and the emotions coming forth did not help at all. Understanding and compassion filled the monk, and without warning she slowly drew the girl into a hug, keeping her arms loose so as not to be threatening and to also allow Hoshino the chance to pull away if she wanted.
It was the sort of thing that made shinobi completely twitchy. The vast majority of people did this sort of thing, hugged and petted and generally touched each other without warning. Although the action was clearly deferential to those instincts, appropriately submissive as an action so as not to be overwhelming or completely startling. There were additional mental blocks for an Aburame to get over, in addition to suppressing the 'it touched me without warning it must die before it kills me' instinct. Hoshino understood hugs, mechanically and theoretically. In practice, it was pulling your arms around someone else and holding them in a safe, warm place (unless you were just being obnoxious and attempting to get dog hair on your teammate's clean jacket, in which case there was some degree of violence involved as well). In theory, doing this would calm someone down, let someone know he or she was not alone, give someone a quiet sanctuary for a moment or two while he or she got his or her head on straight again.
How inquiring after a kitten had earned her a hug was something of a mystery.
After the initial freeze, Hoshino curled in on herself again slightly, not quite leaning into the embrace but certainly not pushing it away. Her voice flitted back to its usual monotone, trying to keep the conversation as detached from the hug as much as possible. There would be time to explore the emotionality of it later, once she'd gotten control of herself again. "...Konohako-san is... taking it well?"
"She's worried," Chiriku replied. "But I think she is taking it well. I... haven't really much looked to how the others were taking it." The last part, the confession, came out in a whisper. She hadn't looked to the welfare of others. She'd been incredibly selfish, thinking of only herself, and worrying about Rin-san and Kureno-san because they were the ones she had asked to go after Asuka, and the last time she had seen Rin-san he looked like the walking dead while Kureno-san, splashed liberally with blood, had been arrested for treason. She didn't know why he had been arrested for that and the absurdity appalled.
However, she was a civilian, and as Hyuuga-sama so politely reminded her without directly stating, the matter did not concern her. Even though it did, seeing as Chiriku was the one to tell Kureno-san and Rin-san, and then tell the ANBU they had gone.
She just held Hoshino loosely, taking as much comfort from the girl's presence as she hoped Hoshino took from Chiriku's.
It was strange, sitting this way with someone who wasn't Kiba or Hinaji. Not quite disconcerting, but decidedly strange. She had to tilt her head a little to get a proper glace at the other woman's face, so instead she simply listened quietly to the soft hum of her kikaichuu. They were picking up something subdued that didn't really have much to do with chakra flares or... well, really anything useful at all, from what she could tell. After all, it was apparent enough that the monk was experiencing some intense and deep-rooted emotions. Perhaps, some day, she'd train them to identify emotional responses, talk to a doctor about how the human body gave off signals so that she wouldn't have to stop and think and decide what the person she was talking with was feeling. Her own emotions were difficult enough, without having to understand someone else's as well.
"...you've been worried," the kunoichi responded at length, looking down at her lap and not caring that it made her glasses slide a little. The room was dark enough for it not to matter. What really mattered, after all, was the self being worried. And what was really scary, after all, was that it didn't look like Chiriku had figured out how to fix that entirely either. So much for coming to the shrine for enlightenment.
Chiriku didn't reply immediately. "Very. She's my best friend, Hoshino-san, and... there's nothing I could do, or can do, to help her." And that was all she would say on the matter. Hoshino had come to her for comfort; it wasn't fair for her to still be so needing it herself. She drew her arms back back, not realizing it when a hand reached out to push the girl's hood back enough to briefly ruffle the short dark hair hidden beneath. "My apologies, Hoshino-san, I shouldn't be bothering you with this," she murmured before she let her hands drop into her lap.
That was it.
The transition was beautiful. Even as she fell into it, Hoshino could appreciate how perfect the interaction had been. First, expose a weakness: Chiriku's emotions had flared almost visibly around her, showing someone soft and fragile and human and therefore perfect for understanding the Aburame's own soft, fragile, human emotions. Second, the physical transition: moving from a slightly awkward hug to the physical interaction Hoshino liked best, a simple ruffling of hair and close proximity. Coupled with the simple spoken invitation, the obvious 'it's your turn now, dear,' the total effect was overwhelming. A wave of upset, injured words bubbled up in Hoshino's throat, ready to spill out and gut themselves all over the conversation.
One shaky inhale later, the Aburame was in control of herself. True, she did reach up to pull her hood off the rest of the way, threading her fingers compulsively through her hair to push it back into place, and the kikaichuu did lift off of Chiriku's shoulder to hover around their host's head with something like concern. It was still a step up from feeling her shell about to crack.
"It's hard for you as well. You... shouldn't be apologizing."
As much as Chiriku wanted to brush it off, to reinforce the fact she was a monk, she was still an intelligent woman and therefore she knew to do so would be simply stupid. She watched the kikai float around Hoshino like black snow and went into a light meditative state to calm herself down. Nothing to make her unaware, but enough of a detachment that she didn't feel so foolishly female.
She just nodded in reply to Hoshino, not trusting herself to speak at present. Tomorrow before she left she would try to see Asuka, ICU or no ICU. She couldn't just leave without saying goodbye. She wasn't sure how else she could help Hoshino right now. But she could try?
"...is it bad," Hoshino asked rather suddenly, lifting her head and tilting it to watch Chiriku through her sunglasses, "that it makes things feel better to... know other people are suffering as well?" It certainly didn't seem like a good thing. For example, it bothered the hell out of her that Kiba and Hinaji were upset. She hated it when her mother or Kureno-sensei were frustrated or hurting about something. So it didn't make any sense that coming here and seeing how the recent events in Konoha had been disturbing to Chiriku should make her feel... calmer.
Like maybe things weren't as scary as she'd first thought.
That prompted a half-smile. "No," Chiriku replied. "Sometimes it helps to know others are as worried and upset as you, and for the same reasons. 'Misery loves company' isn't just a saying. Grief can... provide a bridge, and let you know you're not alone. That's the worst thing in the world, to feel like you're alone, that you're cut of and isolated from others, that there's no one who's reaching out back to you. Humans are social creatures. To live totally alone, with no interaction, period, is maddening.
"So no, Hoshino-san, it's not a bad thing. If it helps, then that's what is important, yes?"
That took a few minutes to process. It was easy enough to understand a colony's dynamics when observing from the outside, but understanding the sociability of humanity... Hoshino glanced toward the far wall for a moment, contemplating. Other people instinctively understood this, sought each other purposefully, created communities and helped each other with this sort of shared pain. In a way, she was doing that as well. Seeking out her sensei when something was troubling her, 'bumping into' Asuka-sensei when her own sensei was troubling her, spending time with her team simply because it felt nice to be around them. Even waving back when Naruko or Leigh shouted greetings on their way to somewhere else. Funny, how socialization could sneak up on a person.
At the same time, it was nearly impossible to understand. As a child, these things hadn't been explained to her. What most toddlers got every day, Hoshino hadn't really been a part of until joining the academy and (more accurately) her genin cell. It required special consideration, therefore, that this logic might actually be sensible. After all, hadn't that been the beginning of her life? Alone? Isolated from the people who made that odd face when an Aburame walked by? Complicated creatures, humans. Much easier to explain why a termite sought the houses nearest the river.
"And it won't... just make everyone else feel worse?"
"For a while, maybe. But the bond is there, and we can't be miserable forever. When we're happier, that bond means you can share the feeling with the one you were miserable with, and feel it reflected back to magnify your own good feeling. It doesn't make sense," Chiriku admitted, "but it works." Her faint smile grew into a grin. "Asuka didn't understand it when we first met, and I know she doesn't understand it now, but she at least accepts it. And we've both grown stronger, I would say, from it."
That, perhaps, made sense. Much as she was sure that she and her teammates still didn't really understand each other, they accepted each other. They'd certainly grown stronger from knowing each other. Apply that connection to grief, and...? Hoshino scrunched up her nose for a second, head tilting slightly to the right as she worked the pieces together. It would probably be easier to understand when they were all happy again. If that ever happened.
When that happened. The Village had survived a hell of a lot already; it would keep on surviving, even though the world gave off the distinct impression of being about to end. Turning almost sharply to look at the monk, Hoshino said deliberately, "We're going to miss you."
"And I'll miss you, too," the monk replied. "I don't expect I'll be able to leave the temple for a long time but you're always welcome to write me. Or even visit if you feel so inclined." Excepting next year's tour of duty with the Daimyo. Oh, that would be fun. She had a year to get ready for another year-long absense, and unlike the time in Konoha she would have absolutely no constructive contact with the Temple while she guarded the Daimyo. Actually, not even a year. They would be starting in July. Ten-and-a-half-months maybe.
Time to get reacquainted with coffee. The caffiene headaches would hurt, but she would probably need to subsist on as little actual sleep as possible for the next half-year. Sigh.
Write. Write letters, one assumed. About what? It wasn't as if the two of them had fallen into an intensely personal relationship which would require a good deal of maintenance while they were apart. It also wasn't as though she, somehow, was the best person to ask for general updates on Konoha. Quite an odd relationship, now that she sat and thought about it, scanning over the room and the items remaining to be packed. Obviously it was a comforting and comfortable relationship (or else she wouldn't be here), and yet sitting there on the edge of the bed, Hoshino couldn't make herself open up fully. The slowly accumulated trust which had taken those closest to the Aburame years to cultivate wasn't there. Something else was, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
Maybe this was just something true about holy people. Instinct wanted you to trust them and find solace in their company. Biting the inside of her cheek absently, Hoshino tried to think of what came next. That's when the walls came up again. Now that she was here, it was infinitely apparent that she was supposed to be here, that this had been the right course of action. "...I should... let you pack?"
"Have you found what you were looking for?" Chiriku asked as a reply. If there was something she could still do to help the kunoichi, she would. The packing could and would wait.
"What I was looking for...?" Repeating the question back didn't help, nor did staring blankly at the monk. Hoshino opened her mouth, then closed it again, hoping it hadn't been noticed behind her collar. What had she been looking for? Well, really, if you got right down to it, she'd been looking for a place to be. Not really for any particular comfort, or for the anger at having Kureno-sensei taken away to be gone, or for a quick fix to the hurt she felt at the moment whenever she let her thoughts drift from a direct objective. Hoshino couldn't describe her aim in coming, of course. Not out loud. Maybe her sensei could have looked at her just then and half-smiled and explained what it was she wanted to express to Chiriku. Given that he wasn't there, she made her best attempt. "...I was looking for you, houshi-sama."
Chiriku smiled and reached out to ruffle the girl's hair again. "You found me, Hoshino-san. And you can stay here as long as you like." Moving her hand again to help in re-straightening out her Hoshino's hair again, Chiriku stood and smoothed her robes. "If you don't mind me packing. Tomorrow's the latest I can stay."
It took will power and effort, but Hoshino successfully avoided smiling or generally looking pleased about the affectionate gesture. Years of not showing anything paid off in these sorts of situations. As Chiriku stood again, the girl shrugged slightly. It took a single deft movement to lift herself on the bed, folding her legs under herself and settling in again to pick at some lint on her sleeve as if she hadn't really moved at all. It was peaceful here. It wasn't as good a place to be as any, after all; it was the right place to be. The right time to leave would come when it did.
"You'll... go see Asuka-sensei tomorrow before you go?"
"If I can," Chiriku answered quietly. "She's still in intensive care, and with the trouble swirling around... I'll try and see her. If nothing else, I will try." She refused to entertain the thought that she wouldn't succeed. Asuka was her best friend; Chiriku would see her before she left. She would do whatever she had to in order to make that happen, though she fervently wished the path to get there would be an easy one. "You'll see Kureno-san for me, when you can?"
"...after I see him for myself."
It was intensely important, after all, for the three of them. Team 8 needed to see the Yuuhi, to make eye contact with him and hear his voice and (hopefully) feel him clinging and then pushing them away in annoyance when the collective possessive pouncing occurred. Of course regards could be passed on from Chiriku; that was important as well. The team came first, however. Just like it always did.
"It's..." Hoshino's voice trailed off for a moment. Talking was still such a bitch, even all these years after she'd been introduced to verbal communication. "...it's hard. In a different way. Different than how it's hard about Asuka-sensei, or when Kiba wasn't well."
Chiriku nodded in understanding. The bonds that formed between the students of a genin cell and teacher was a strong one. Sensei had occasionally reminisced of his sensei and his cell-mates and the genin he took on. She liked to think that she and he had had something similiar, for all that he had practically raised her.
"He's your sensei," she said, she said as she folded the extra robes she had brought. "That bond is something stronger than most others you have had or will have. He isn't your father, and never will be, but in the ways that matter, he is. He is the teacher who guides you on the path you have chosen for yourself. He was the one who turned those book-lessons into practical knowledge, and the one you sometimes feel more comfortable going to with your problems and your joys than your own parents. Because while your parents love you, they're more observers whereas your sensei is right there in the thick of it with you until the day you must stand tall and walk on your own. To have him taken away, through no rational reason that you can understand... It's akin to a deathblow that doesn't kill, and you don't feel right until you can see him again." She didn't know who she was really talking to, by the end. Hoshino, or herself, when she had to struggle with the grief and loss of losing Sensei to old age. The only joy she could find at that time, besides knowing she had Asuka to lean on, was that he had passed peacefully in his sleep, surrounded by those he loved, and secure in the knowledge that those he left behind would be well-prepared. For a shinobi it was the absolute best death he could have had, and she would never begrudge him that.
She still missed him.
For a moment, Hoshino removed herself clinically from the situation to examine the words. It was the sort of thing she usually did to rework a plan in the middle of a mission, most often because Kiba was hissing distractingly into her ear or Hinaji was giving her a look and nothing would click until she shut out everything but the few choice pieces of information she needed to focus on. In this case, she sectioned off the emotions stirring in her own chest and ignored the slight hint of personal loss in the monk's voice, instead looking at the cold, hard facts of the words being spoken.
It would have been different if Kureno-sensei had been a woman. It... wouldn't have worked. He was like a father, after all. There had been a gap she hadn't known existed, growing up predominantly with only her mother, and he'd slipped into it perfectly. He wasn't a parent, but he was part of the family dynamic. Kiba wasn't a sister, either, and Hinaji certainly wasn't a brother. They were part of the dynamic too. There were so many broken biological families in the village; someone's mother had been killed That Day, someone's younger brother didn't make it back from a mission. Maybe this was the secret to staying sane. Maybe shinobi had to make their own families, to connect with people on the same level as a blood relation to fill in holes before the tears became overwhelming and the fabric was ripped to pieces.
"...it will hurt more when he dies."
Aburames didn't do listless very well. Hoshino was close. A little too present in the situation, removed from the emotions but puzzled by it, working it over in her mind with too much intensity to really be completely gone. It was true, of course. This horrible pain deep in her chest would be much, much worse when Kureno-sensei was gone forever. Now, at least, there was comfort in the knowledge that he was still breathing somewhere and they'd have him back again.
She refused to admit to herself that it was more along the lines of 'they'd probably have him back again.'
"It will. But he's still alive. You will see him again." Chiriku said this with a certainty too strong to allow for any doubt. "It may take some time, but you will see him. And it won't hurt anymore." She considered the ceremonial robes. Should she fold them to carry in her bag, or should she just have them shipped back to the temple? Shipping sounded better; she didn't believe she would be accosted but the less items of monetary value she carried on her, the better. At least if she shipped them she could get insurance. She began folding them down into as small and neat a square as she could so she could set them aside in the 'ship me' pile.
"Promise?"
It was a childish reaction, but it fit into the mood of the moment (as far as Hoshino could read any moment, let alone this one). It sounded right when Chiriku said it. That didn't make Hoshino any less the person who acted as the foil to people like Kiba. It was so easy to believe that everything was going to work out somehow or other, when a person sat back and considered the people involved and the motivations they had to make things work out for the best. What wasn't easy was holding things in persepcetive, not allowing them to slip and smooth over hard details. There were some things which were simply impossible. This shouldn't be one of them. But if it was...
...well, a certain young entomologist figured she had a better chance being prepared for the worst than being disappointed cruelly later. Not the most optimistic outlook on life, perhaps, but it got her from day to day.
"I promise." The words came immediately; no hesitation, no deliberation. Chiriku was looking at Hoshino, too, when she spoke, and her deep dark eyes held only truth as she seemed to look into Hoshino's own despite the sunglasses.
Hoshino wasn't the sort of person who smiled to reassure people that she was happy or comfortable or simply paying attention to the situation. Smiles were reserved, treated with respect and not tossed around casually. In fact, facial expressions in general were sanctioned off, used only if there was intense need. As it was, the girl lifted both eyebrows very slightly, face blank, and gave something like a nod. In the end, it amounted to the same confirmation as a smile would have, didn't it?
"If you say so, houshi-sama." Her attention fell back to her hands, still fiddling with a loose string on her coat sleeve. She'd snip and stitch it back into place when she got home. Until then, it was a good way to use the nervous energy she'd yet to define.
Chiriku hummed softly as she returned to her packing. She had limited space in her bag, and she had originally only planned on being here two weeks, but the longer she had been here, the more things she accumulated. It was with no small amount of irony that the majority of stuff she was shipping to the temple had originally come from there. Maybe she could just pretend they were presents when they finally arrived. Heck, for all she knew they would beat her home. Not that she was about to race the packages home. She would make her own pace. Not hurrying, but not needlessly dawdling either.
There was a moment or two of simple quiet peace. The silence in this room, punctuated by Chiriku's soft humming, had a different quality than the silence back home. Home was silent silence. Every rustle of wings had to be heard distinctly and instantly understood, giving the silence what had been described as an 'eerie un-human hum.' Hoshino had to agree, after pointing out rather crossly that 'un-human' wasn't a real word. It was what she was used to, the silence of insects and absence of humanity, and it set her at ease. This intensely human silence, however, made her comfortable. Strange. Good information nonetheless.
Eventually Hoshino shook herself out of the vaguely meditation-like daze she'd fallen into watching the older woman pack. Without words, she slipped to her feet again, body unfolding with a quick cat-like stretch before she flipped her hood back up. She'd come here to say goodbye, after all, hadn't she? It was simply a matter of sliding across the floor and slinking her arms quietly around Chiriku's waist. After all, she owed the monk a hug, didn't she?
And hugs did make things feel better. No need to admit it out loud, but fine to acknowledge now.
(It wasn't like Chiriku would have the time or state of mind to find Kiba and confirm the Inuzuka's suspicion that Hoshino did, in fact, enjoy being hugged and cuddled.)