[Log] It's too far to reach beyond the dusk [Takanobu and Hizashiko]
Takes place during the gala. And yes. Hizashiko.
The day, really, was quite beautiful. It was mild and warm as spring came upon the fire country, plants finally breaking free from the ground. All in all, close to the Great Fire Temple, it seemed like a very peaceful and quiet area, birds singing and all that.
The oddly cloaked figure lurking about kind of ruined the serenity, however.
The clothes, if they could be called that, were tattered, torn, and ruined; it was doubtful that they had ever been washed. The figure underneath it was even worse shape. Dirty bandages covered a host of wounds, and the body was far too thin, emaciated practically. The black hair that had been pulled back was dirty and matted... and the eyes couldn't be seen. The 'cloak' had been carefully pulled down to conceal the figure's eyes, and for good reason. Hyuuga Hizashiko didn't want anyone knowing she was a Hyuuga.
Since her escape... however long ago (she didn't know anymore) she'd managed to stay hidden and secret. Every day had been spent moving, every waking moment spent alert, and only now and then did she dare to grab snatches of food. Hizashiko didn't dare get caught stealing because she had no doubt she would end up back in custody- if not killed for her eyes to begin with. But right in front of her now was a garden, laden with ripe vegetables and Hizashiko's stomach let her know, rather painfully, it wanted food. After being starved for years on end,she could go long periods without eating. But it was starting to have an even more negative effect on her. And this food was right in front of her, perfect for the taking and the Hyuuga couldn't help it.
Like a sickly wraith, she ghosted out and snatched a tomato, the closest thing to her, and then slid back into the trees. Her heart pounded in her chest, waiting for someone to come attack her, and only slowly did she calm when no one came. Hungrily, she lifted the ripe tomato to her mouth- and then paused. The temple rising in the distant suddenly came into sharp focus, and she hesitated. Despite the hunger that gnawed at her, her conscious did not want her to steal from monks. And yet if she put off eating any longer, it was possible she would run out of strength to continue.
Torn, she continued to stand in the shadow of the trees, holding the food in her hands.
The monk called Takanobu rose with his brothers for the early morning prayers and stood in Chiriku-sama's place for the day-greeting ceremonies. Candles were lit and chants sung to fill the temple corridors with sound for hours. And once those important matters were complete, it was time to change into clothing more suited for the day's work in the gardens. Both he and Chiriku-sama had been plenty pleased with the season's yield. During the time she had been in Konoha, they had discussed via letter how to increase how much was grown without sapping too many nutrients from the earth. The temple already employed crop rotation, and now they were adding in a bit of variety as well.
He felt some pity for her; between the extended visit to Konoha, the gala being held that required her presence at the capital, and her upcoming tour, she was denied the simpler pleasures of a monk's life. After Asuka, he was possibly Chiriku-sama's best friend and certainly her confidant. Certainly, while not a father-figure to the young woman (that honor was reserved for Joumaru-sama, God bless his soul), he liked to think he was something of an uncle. He knew she hated being away more than she absolutely had to be, and he also knew how much joy she took from working. The gardens especially she loved: doting on the plants, plunging her hands into the earth to either plant seeds or meticulously pluck weeds, and inspecting leaves for signs of insect pests and disease.
The work was restful for her, and sadly she couldn't spend as much time in the gardens as she would like. Her administrative duties as the head of the faith combined with the game of catch-up that had started in October had continued on and blended into the preparations for her departure for the Capital in June. Asuka, Chiriku-sama had told him, would not be her partner this year as the shinobi was still recovering from the wounds received fighting the criminal Sasoriza. The houshi-sama did not look pleased with being partnered with someone new, but that could also be because of the anger still felt that Asuka had gone off like she had.
Even as they had talked, monk-to-monk with no one else privy, he could see she was holding back the full scope of her feelings in regards to the whole mess. Which was why he regretted the lack of time she could spend in the gardens. She could work out her frustrations, her anxieties in a beneficial way and return to the temple relieved and in lighter spirits. With no real clue as to what would or could happen at the gala (despite Chiriku-sama's oft and quietly repeated threats to beat some sense into her friend), he still felt she needed a return to normalcy. So even as he lead the procession down to the gardens he was already ticking off items on the list of things to do to try and funnel as much of the paperwork as possible to others who could handle it, reserving only the most important matters for her. That meant more work for himself, but unlike others he was better at cat-napping during meditations.
After all, he had yet to be caught.
Hoe in hand, straw hat on his head, and a basket strapped to his back filled with other tools and a small corked gourd of water, he glanced at the midmorning sun and smiled at all the beauty of God's earth. And beneath it was another twinge of sadness that Chiriku-sama couldn't be here. A light shake of the head to dismiss the thoughts before he started directing the brothers to their work. Not that they needed direction, but habit was nice. The other monks went to their areas and set down their identical gardening kits, digging through for what they needed before getting to work.
Takanobu's focus was on the tomato plants. Chiriku-sama enjoyed tomatos quite a bit. Along with garlic and mushrooms. Put the three together and she was a very happy monk. Almost as happy as when on her monthly chocolate binge, he reflected with a quiet smile. Humming a few bars of the morning's chant, he set the hoe down before beginning his own inspection of the plants.
And froze when he saw how a stem was torn.
Frowning a little, he studied it closely, noting the shape to realize the stem was the fruit-holding kind but there was no fruit. None of the other plants were damaged, he quickly determined, which increased the oddity. These gardens were for the monastery's own sustenance and not for others except as offerings and handouts to those who needed it.
He straightened, dark eyes scanning the treeline surrounding the gardens with intent. He could fight if necessary but hoped he didn't have to, but he was not so naive as to believe someone desperate enough to steal wouldn't resort to violence. "Hello?" he called, then waved a hand dismissively at the curious monks who had glanced over.
The noise the monks made was loud to Hizashiko's hypersensitive senses and she quickly faded back into the trees and then stilled, hand holding the tomato perhaps a bit too tight. Her heart strained in her chest, pounding against her ribcage but the emaciated woman barely breathed. Muffling the pain at putting more stress on her body, and activated the Byakugan and grimaced at the what entered her gaze. There were a lot of monks, a LOT of them, confirming her theory that she had stolen from monks. Her conscious scolded her while he body threw a fit over the fact that she hadn't yet eaten that juicy, delicious, to-
... so he'd noticed it.
Hizashiko flinched behind her tree as the male monk leaned down and inspected the torn plant; how had she missed that she had torn it? Granted, she knew WHY but... it still grated on her nerves. She was a shinobi, even a broken one, and she had left her mark so carelessly, after being so careful...
But it was the hunger that was driving her now, her body weak and pathetic. Even after all her time free, she still hadn't been able to gain back much weight from her years of starvation. However... she simply could not steal from the monastery, from the monks, from... from whomever who needed it more. Hyuuga Hizashiko was a shinobi, and even more than that, she was still a Hyuuga and she had her pride. Stealing scraps was one thing; stealing like this was another.
Forcing her rigid body to move, and weak limbs to walk, she cautiously stepped out from behind the tree and inched to the tree line. Her head remained bowed, even as she watched the monk carefully, and one arm slowly stretched out, still holding the now slightly bruised tomato.
Body poised to flee if she was suddenly grabbed or attack, Hizashiko spoke, her voice gravely and weak from disuse and hunger. "... sorry."
Takanobu blanched at the sight of the emaciated woman, not from fright or disgust but from concern. Exhaling a silent prayer he approached her slowly as he had noted the tense way she held herself. She looked horrible. "No, no, it's all right," he said quickly but not in a rush. She needed more than food; she needed a bath and definitely needed medical attention. Happily, that area was something he was quite well-versed in.
Something about how she stood reminded him of Joumaru-sama, so he went out on a limb. "You look like you could use more, in fact, shinobi-san. Would you, would you come back to the temple? It's no bother to us."
Could it be a trap...?
Hizashiko watched the other warily, not that he could tell, Byakugan still activated. Monks didn't lie though- unless he wasn't really a monk, and it was a trap. But there are other monks around and she'd seen them all come from the temple. And his body language, while it spoke of many things, didn't speak of dishonesty; worry, maybe some fear, and a tinge of respect, but no dishonesty. Her vision took in the other monks around, most who were carefully avoiding the conversation and not looking. It showed a measure of respect and she wavered momentarily. It had been forever since she had slept somewhere and didn't feel death around a corner. And if she didn't stop soon and rest and eat, all her effort to escape would be for nothing, and that really just kind of pissed her off.
After a moment, she slowly pulled the tomato back and held it close to her, almost as if she feared it would be taken away. Several long moments after that, she nodded just faintly to Takanobu. "... all right."
He nodded in return before turning and whistling a command. Instantly, a pair of shaved-headed youngsters in novices' robes rushed over. "Ikki, get to the kitchens and tell the cooks to prepare a fasting meal, then go find my kit," he said to the boy on the left before turning to the right. "Tanyu, get a lukewarm bath drawn and bed prepared for our guest." The boys nodded and sprinted off, their bare feet kicking up clods of dust and dirt.
One of the other monks took that as a signal to approach, and gave a respectful bow before speaking. "Takanobu-san?"
"We have a guest, Brother Hisato," Takanobu replied. "If you would inform the others and have Sozen and Mokichi head up in about, oh, ten minutes, I would greatly appreciate it." The two men he named were also highly medically trained, and if he needed their help he would have them nearby. For now, he suspected their guest would be more comfortable dealing with one person at a time. Hisato nodded and walked towards to where the other monks were focused on not watching this interaction, but still had ears and peripheral vision quite intent on the goings-on.
Takanobu turned back to the woman who was studiously staring at the uneaten tomato in her hand. "It's all right," he said gently. "You can eat it if you like."
Hizashiko felt her body tense and her mind start to race at breakneck speed. Too many people, too many around her, and too many who were being informed of the fact that she was around. Nervously, her head twisted to check her blindspot, but no one was there and the strain of keeping the Byakugan up was too much; she let it drop and almost seemed to huddle where she was. These were just monks, and they weren't going to hurt her, they were going to help her. She would get food, and a bath.
...a bath sounded so nice.
Her head jerked up slightly as she was addressed, and if she'd had the energy, she may have blushed. Instead, she simply nodded faintly to the other and lifted up the tomato, biting into it, almost clumsily. Teeth were used to hard bread and sickly water, not well tended to and succulent tomatoes. But it did taste heavenly, and though she hastily wiped off the mess on her chin, she let herself enjoy the first good food she'd had in forever. It was amazing how, after being deprived of it, the simplest things seemed like the most wondrous. After a moment of enjoy it, she took another, smaller bite and the hood turned towards Takanobu, eyes still covered. ".... thank you."
"You are most welcome," he replied with the sincerity of truth. Inwardly, he wondered why she kept her eyes covered so, but for now it wasn't his place to inquire. Instead he would tend to the most basic physical needs of food, water, cleanliness and shelter, and then maybe talk with her if she felt up to it. The poor woman looked so nervous despite her stature. She would need to relax before she might speak of whatever had travailed upon her.
He watched the other monks as he waited patiently for her to finish eating. Only then did he ask again if she would like to come to the temple. She knew what awaited her there now, but it still had to be her decision.
Slowly but sure, Hizashiko finished the tomato, licking her lips. It felt like lead in her stomach (and she was pretty sure it was swollen now too) but every single bite had been worth it. And now that it hadn't been taken away, and she had been left alone for the, she felt much calmer. Or as calm as a tortured escapee could be, given the circumstances. Resisting the urge to lick her fingers, she wiped them absently on her stained clothes, and watched the monk- Takanobu- studiously not watch her until he asked his question. After a moment, she nodded and turned her body towards him, trusting almost. "Please."
The monk nodded and after a few hesitant steps, Hizashiko fell behind him, following him. The road they took was overly exposed and she felt that paranoia creep up on her again, no matter how hard she tried to push it back down. And only belatedly did she realize they were going uphill, higher in elevation with each step they took. Before she realized it, she was sucking in air nosily, her lungs having trouble adjusting. Doggedly she kept pace though, refusing to fall behind anymore or slow down. She was a damn shinobi, and a damn Hyuuga, and she was NOT going to let some stupid little hill be the end of her or something.
... she was still fervently glad when they reached the temple.
Once they reached the temple, Takanobu murmured another message to the boy Ikki, who nodded and bounded off again. Takanobu shook his head mentally at the youth's exuberance; that still needed to be channeled better before the boy could think of getting his official robes, some time in the future. Returning his attention to the woman, he guided her to a small room that was private without being claustrophobic. He had picked up on her distress on the way up the path, and how she had relaxed only slightly when trees blocked an imaginary onlooker's view. The notion that the less people interacting with her, the better, was reaffirmed.
The room was simple, and actually a guest room of sorts. Sarutobi Asuka had stayed there for her visit years ago, and a pallet for sleeping and a table with a single chair remained yet. The windows were high to provide air and some light. The oil lamp would provide more, when lit.
"This is for you," he said, indicating the tidy space with a nod of his head. "We'll have some food for you shortly. After you've eaten, you can either sleep, or avail yourself for a bath." He spoke kindly, never pushing or demanding. He wanted to impress most of all that on the woman that she was here freely, and could come and go as she wished. (After they managed to do a physical on her. She was suffering from more than starvation, he would gamble.) "Aa, forgive my late introduction. My name is Takanobu, shinobi-san. And it is a pleasure to be of any help you would like us to provide."
Hizashiko stood in the doorway after Takanobu entered, body sideways so she could see both in and out. The space seemed small at first, but there were windows, ones she could leap out of she needed. The pallet would be nice, the chair could be used as a weapon... After a few seconds, she carefully inched inside. It was her way of showing trust and respect to the monk who had, in her mind, gone out of his way. Hizashiko was smart enough to realize that this was only the tip of the iceberg, and that she would probably only get more difficult as time went on, even if she tried hard not to.
Glancing around the room, and carefully nudging the pallet with her foot, she glanced back to Takanobu, nodding slightly at his name. Swallowing to help ease her talking, Hizashiko quietly answered back. "... it's fine. It... it probably be best, for you and for your home, that you just kept calling me shinobi-san." That way, if anyone asked for her by her name, they wouldn't be forced to lie- or more awfully, tell the truth against their will.
Silently, she contemplated a bath before his other words sunk in, and she hesitated. After a moment, she lifted her hands, half mimicking like she was tying something around her forehead. "Do... do you have just... just a strip of cloth, I could tie?"
It would easily cover both her seal, and her eyes. If these monks were going to go out of their way to help her, then she was going to do her damndest to make sure that she didn't somehow accidentally put them in harm's way.
"Certainly," Takanobu answered, and with a polite bow he swept from the room, his robes not quite dusting the floor. He saw Ikki approaching with a tray of watery vegetable broth, lemon water, and thin unleavened bread. "Thank you, Ikki."
"I also brought your medicine kit," the boy said, indicating the strap of the bag that hung from his shoulder.
"Excellent." Takanobu took the tray. "Fetch out the large bandage role, and the cutting knife. Now put them on the tray." Ikki did as told, and Takanobu nodded again. "Now, leave the bag outside, and make sure we're not disturbed unless it's an emergency. Otherwise, have as much as you can deferred to Brother Hisato, and tell him no that no one's to approach our guest absent my permission or presence."
Ikki bobbed a bow. "Understood, sir." He placed the bag near the doorway, then held the door open for Takanobu and closed it once the senior monk was inside.
Takanobu walked to the table and set the tray down. "Use as much as you need," he said as he motioned to the white cloth roll and the small knife. And then he stepped back to both give her space as well as observe.
Hizashiko watched as Takanobu left the room, and the faintest of smiles lifted her lips at his orders. In just a short while, he had picked up on several of her triggers, which did speak a lot; most people missed them, especially civilians. Not only did she appreciate that on a hospitality level, but it simply made her much calmer to know there wouldn't be several people surrounding her at once; the Hyuuga also didn't have to worry that she would accidentally injure someone who, with the best intentions, could come up behind her. But more importantly, one of the best words she had heard since arriving, was 'medicine kit'. For some time now, she'd been forced to leave wounds unattended and it was... well, she tried not think about it. Having them cleaned and properly bandaged would be another welcome respite.
Her body stiffened at the door suddenly shutting and the knife on the tray and before she could help herself, she recoiled from the monk and took a step back, nearly stumbling over the mat on the floor. A choked noise rose up in her throat and warily Hizashiko watched as he set the tray with its contents down. After a moment, her muscles slowly relaxed, but it left her trembling and weak. Continuing to watch the other warily, she crept forward until she was at the table, and she couldn't help but snatch the knife and the the white cloth, before backing away again.
Keeping Takanobu in her peripheral vision (and trying hard to calm down again, he would not hurt her) she unrolled a long strip and then cut it, placing the knife back on the tray. Licking her lips, she slowly turned so her back was facing him; it took more willpower then she was willing to admit. Letting the hood fall back, to reveal that matted mess of black hair, she wound the strip first around her forehead (to cover the seal) and then let a small bit hang down, to cover her eyes. It hampered her vision, but only slightly, and kept her white eyes hidden.
Slowly she turned back to the monk, face gaunt, but still holding faint traces of a proud shinobi. "... thank you."
"You're welcome," he replied, working to keep tone and expression pleasant. But it didn't much help the concern and grief in his eyes at what he saw. 'Ill-used' was the paltry term to come to mind. Lord Above, what had happened to her? He had seen the tattered clothes and cloak, he had heard the labored breathing on the path up to the temple, and he had seen the way she had tensed and near-stumbled out of skittishness. But it felt like it had all become more real once he could see the gauntness of her face, as well as the scars that marked the pale skin and the hands that had clenched the knife. Even without the admission of her social class (shinobi), she couldn't have been anything but a fighter of significant training.
He wished Chiriku-sama was here. Her mentor had been a retired jounin, and her best friend was a current one. She best understood the shinobi mentality, and could probably help the woman before him more than he. He would still do his best to offer all the aid he could give. And his healer's heart ached to be able to do more. Slowly, he reminded himself. He would need to be slow around her, and gentle, and better earn her trust before he could do much more. Unless she asked. Please ask. In the meantime, he remained close to the door, steady and patient.
"Do you require more, shinobi-san?"
Hizashiko stared at him slightly and then looked slightly to the side. "The... the younger monk said that... he had brought your medicine bag. If it wouldn't be much trouble..."
It was the closest Hizashiko could come to asking without outright asking. They had done so much already, had given so much already and though, logically, she knew that it was given without repayment needed, she still felt as if she had asked too much.
He succeeded in reining in the sigh of relief but not the expression. "No trouble at all," he assured her, ducking out of the room only long enough to retrieve the bag and return. "Ikki is a good lad," he continued, closing the door. He gave the name freely so she might draw a measure of comfort at knowing who was who. Shinobi liked to know these things, he had learned from Joumaru-sama. "He's a novice, but he's quite interested in medicine. He's got a talent I hope to cultivate." He studied her thoughtfully. The scars were old, and the clothing revealed nothing as yet that he could notice. "Where does it hurt?" He would nicely badger her later about eating; right now he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to give her medical care.
For several seconds, Hizashiko stared very blankly at the monk. His question made sense, really, but she couldn't figure out how to answer it. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she struggled through the issue, and her look became shuttered and troubled. A hand ran over her mouth and after several long more moments of confused struggling, she answered helplessly. "... I don't know. Everything has hurt everywhere for so long I... I don't know."
Just because the torture would stop, didn't mean that the pain would stop, most of the time. Broken bones would be left broken, wounds left open to fester, deep cuts that left her alive but didn't want to heal... Her body had been battered and malnourished for so long that a dull ache had simply settled into her bones and never left her. Some things flared and hurt more then others but usually... usually it was just her whole body.
He hesitated, thinking hard. Another wish for Chiriku-sama to be here instead of at the gala, as she was a woman as well as a monk. A woman would be more comfortable with another woman, just as men were more comfortable with men. If nothing else, since Chiriku-sama lacked the full training, her presence might help to better ease the woman's undoubted anxiety. "With your permission, I would like to examine you, but if you prefer I can send for a nun. Sister Miya is about as skilled as I," he offered.
"No," Hizashiko answered quickly, attempting to not stiffen. "No. You're... please."
Takanobu had hit something, had made her easily trust him. He was an anchoring presence currently, in a bizarre way, and she didn't want to deal with someone else, to start all over again. She couldn't bare her body to someone she didn't have trust in.
Takanobu nodded in understand, and asked her to undress so he could better examine her. And he couldn't keep the wince from his face when he saw how badly off she truly was. Bruised and scarred and skin stretched painfully, painfully tight over bone. Burn scars, stabbing scars, scars from being bound... there were so many, it was impossible to categorize them. Her back looked like it had been whipped repeatedly, over and over and over again. Her wrists were still scabbed from manacles and... well, overall, it was pretty bad. Ragged chest bindings and underwear, and equally ragged haphazard bandages, stained with old blood. And above all else was the sheer filth that looked practically sewn to her body and filled every seam of skin, few as they were. He wondered how he hadn't smelled it before now.
Thoughts for later.
"I will tend to you, shinobi-san, but first it might be better if you had a bath. And before that, I want you to eat something." He took off his own outer robe, the same one he had been intending to do garden work in, and handed it to her so she had something cleaner against her skin, and so she wouldn't feel even more exposed.
Hizashiko had been staring at a wall, and startled suddenly at the orange robe being handed to her. She looked up to Takanobu, surprised, and then gingerly took the robe, fingers running over it briefly. It felt like silk, practically, and she didn't hesitated to slide it over her head, draping it over her emaciated form. That was the second time today that something so simple felt so wonderful, and she let herself enjoy it for a moment, eyes closing just briefly. After a moment, she opened them again with a soft sigh and refocused on Takanobu.
"... I can't," Hizashiko started, and then added in, explaining. "The... the tomato, was enough, for now. I... I don't even know if I can keep that down. But... but I will bathe."
And oh, did she want a bath.
"The bread at least," he insisted, in a tone that while gentle still brooked no argument. As a monk he asked, but as a healer he however sweetly nevertheless commanded. "Slowly and in small pieces. It will help to absorb the tomato's acid and help calm your stomach." He smiled kindly. "We have experience in this sort of matter, when a Brother goes for a long fast and comes back famished. Eat just a little bit, and I can take you to the bath."
Hizashiko debated arguing with the monk, eying him slightly (or as best she could through the cloth). But she could see that he wasn't going to budge and she desperately wanted a bath. And she also had to admit that he DID know more about this than her. A soft almost sigh slipped past her lips and she headed over to the bread on the table, shaking fingers tearing it to pieces. Even though she could tell it was fresh baked, she was still surprised when she put the piece in her mouth and it was soft, not the hard crust that she was used to.
After a few bites, she cast the other a shrewd look, something that could almost be amusement touching her face. "... Good enough?"
His amusement was more visible, though clearly he was still flooded with concern. "It will suffice for now," he answered.
He lead her to where Tanyu had prepared the bath and noted with approval that he had, in fact, prepared two. One was warm without being hot, and the other still steamed. No doubt so that Shinobi-san could simply soak and rest for however long it took the other bath to cool enough so she could actually get clean.
"I shall be right outside if you need me, shinobi-san, so please do not hesitate to call out."
...okay, THIS was the best sight she had seen in YEARS.
Hizashiko absently nodded to the monk, more distracted by the bath in front of her. Besides the two baths, one steaming still, there were towels, and soap, and a scrub brush and extra robes and.... oh, this was going to be wonderful. Takanobu must have seen how she was distracted and simply slipped out quietly, because when Hizashiko looked around again, he was gone. But that wasn't important. What WAS important was that there was a BATH in front of her.
After a moment (still a bit awestruck), she hastily peeled out of the robes, and then out of her dirty underthings and bindings. There was only a pause when she got to the water, when she could see how terrible she really looked.... but then she was slipping into the cooler bath, resisting the urge to groan happily. For a VERY long time, she simply sat there, before she roused herself to grab the scrub brush and the soap and actually get to work on the years of grime, dirt, and dried blood.
Once done with that bath, Hizashiko grimaced when she realized she had turned the water brackish and very quickly slipped out. Not bothering to check how hot the other was, she slipped into that as quickly as the first and slid until she was almost all the way under, just her eyes above the water level. Coming up only to breathe, she stayed like that the longest, possibly falling asleep briefly. Slowly sitting up (eventually), she tried to run a hand back through her hair when she realized that a) the cloth was still on her face and b) her hair was a disgustingly matted mess.
Attempting to use the soap cleaned it up slightly but in the end, she realized that she was going to have to just cut it and sighed very softly. Slowly she levered herself up from the tub and crawled over to put on a robe and tie the cloth back over her eyes. Yawning slightly, she half opened the door, voice oddly quiet. "... Takanobu-san? Do you... have something I could cut my hair with?"
After leaving her to attend to her own cleaning but always keeping a sharp ear tuned for any sounds of distress, Takanobu had settled himself to standing near the door while he entered a light state of meditation. He had no idea who she was, and given the request that he continue to refer to her as 'shinobi-san' indicated any answers would be hard-won. And then her injuries, and the way she refused to allow him any look at her eyes... She moved too confidently for him to think that there could be something wrong with her vision. Unless she had been living with any diminishment for some time. Humans were versatile creatures and could adapt to almost anything.
But more worrying than her eyes was the rest of her body. If he had to answer a question as to her condition, he would have to say it looked like she had been tortured. The marks upon marks and scars upon scars, the faint scent of fear (that, he had been able to detect) that bloomed at every sudden movement and noise, her posture... He lived a sheltered life, he knew. Never would he be able to imagine the horrors she had undergone and frankly he hoped to be forever denied that knowledge.
The injuries themselves did not daunt him. The Brothers were widely renowned for their healing skills even if they didn't have the benefit of chakra-healing that medical shinobi learned, and therefore were called upon time and again to attend to those in need of help. But just to see that much pain and misery and keen desire to hurt inflicted upon her skin, upon her soul by another human... He would have wept openly if he had less control. Instead he focused on what he would do to help her and how he would begin.
The flow of thought paused when he heard the wooden door creak on its hinges and his name spoken. His smile, as ever, was friendly and open. "I'm sure we can scrounge something up, shinobi-san. Hair-clipping is another talent of ours. But don't worry," he added with a twinkle in his eye, "we won't shave it all off."
Hizashiko, before she could stop it, felt herself smile a little bit in return. "I don't know. It might all be a lost cause by now. But appreciated."
Slowly she let the door open, hands absently folding themselves in the robes to hide the sickliness. The older woman looked over herself, critically, as someone went to fetch something to clip her hair with, and then sighed. "I do believe I'm a mess."
"For the moment, I'm afraid I would have to agree," he spoke genially. "Small steps, surely, but I'm sure you won't be a mess for long." The novice monk arrived with a folded leather booklet that contained shears of several sizes and handed it to Takanobu before dipping a bow and hurrying away without a word. Takanobu said to Shinobi-san, "We should do this here, that way the clean-up would be easier." By which he meant the bathing room could be easily swept as the used water was dumped, instead of having to have her sleeping room swept clean.
Hizashiko felt a trickle of unease snake down her spine at how Takanobu said 'we'. He intended to be the one to cut her hair which, while it was a fair assumption, wasn't something she could let happen. Her eyes slipped to the rather... sharp... shears and that small snake of unease turned a lot worse. She couldn't let someone that close to her head, her neck, her spine, with all those sharp instruments, even if she did feel trust in the monk.
Forcing a smile that she knew was razor thin, she reached out with one thin hand. "I can get it. Thank you."
Takanobu eased the wallet out of her reach, that glint of velvet-coated steel appearing for a moment in his eyes. He was not unfriendly, but in his duties as her self-appointed caretaker he would not allow another chance of harm to come to her. "I do not doubt your will, shinobi-san," he said, acknowledging her and the respect afforded, "but I doubt your current ability. You are starved," he continued forwardly. "You are weakened, and I would be highly remiss to allow you a chance where you might accidentally hurt yourself, whatever your intentions.
"You've trusted me this far," he said quietly. "Please to trust me a little more. Once you came here, you allowed yourself to be cloaked in our protection. That will stand for as long as you are here. You are safe here, shinobi-san. No one will enter these walls who will wish you harm, nor shall harm come from those already therein."
Hizashiko took in a deep breath, surprised to find frustration welling up in her. It was probably good that she was beginning to feel again. but it could not have come at a worse time. After slowly releasing the breath, she carefully put her hand down and regarded Takanobu steadily. This was going to be difficult to explain to him, but she was going to have to try to get him to hand over those shears.
"... I know," she finally answered, voice oddly steady and firm. "I know that no one here, especially you, will harm me, I know this logically. But I cannot control my reactions, I cannot control how my body and heart react, even when my mind tells me otherwise. As I'm sure even you have realized, it has literally been beaten into me. I trust you, very much. I bared those..." her face twisted at the thought of the scars and she continued as if she had never hesitated. "... I trust you. But believe me, that there is more of a chance I will get hurt with you cutting my hair then I will cutting my own. I will concede to you being close, to being ready to intervene, to telling me no, stop, but I can't... I literally can't let you do it. Please."
He couldn't smile. As pleased as he was to see a bit of fire return to her, he couldn't smile.
"I've heard it said shinobi are a stubborn breed," he said conversationally. "I've had a chance to see see it in action as well. So I do not doubt you." And now he did smile. Years of having debates both with Joumaru-sama as well as his protege had learned him in the art of dealing with the stubborn-minded. "If you will concede to me telling you 'no, stop', then concede now. For right now, I say 'no, stop' at the prospect of you cutting your own hair. I would risk injury to my person more gladly than I could suffer to just stand by and watch you. I say 'please', shinobi-san. Please."
... that was not fair.
Hizashiko was forced to look away, look almost surly, but it was hiding the nervousness that was seizing hold of her body. Part of her wanted to start pacing, and it took a lot of willpower to not do it. Her hands were shoved in her sleeves and she was very upset to realize that he was probably right. Her hands were shaking and that just made her all the more upset. It didn't help that he had been reasonable and she could hear the deep plea in his please.
The older shinobi looked at him briefly and then looked the other way again. Her voice was a nervous mumble when she spoke, "... I need to see you, when you do it."
"That's fair." Another wave of relief that she had agreed. Finding mirrors wouldn't be a problem, for after all the monks had to shave their heads every other day to get rid of unwanted hair.
And so mirrors were found and arranged in the bathing room, and a chair brought in as well so she could have something to sit on. Normally novices knelt on the floor to be shaved, but she wasn't a novice and this wasn't normal. He stood behind her, the wallet in hand but unopened. "Can you see me?"
Hizashiko curled her hand into fists in her sleeves, allowing herself to pace slightly as they set things up. It would work, sure, but her body was still tense and frightened by the thought of someone with shears behind her head. She continued to pace a little more after the chair had been set, but finally made herself move over and sit. It took everything to not squirm and twist around, and she eyed the mirrors. But when Takanobu moved behind her, she could see him, VERY clearly. It soothed her somewhat, but... not completely.
"Yes," Hizashiko answered, unable to keep her voice from being clipped and tight. "Please. Quickly?"
"I'll do my best," he promised.
The big shears came out first. He moved slowly and carefully so as to not alarm her. Carefully taking the mass in one hand, he lifted it a little and with extreme care and precision began cutting through the thick tangle. He had to force himself to not apologize whenever she flinched however minutely, and to ignore the pounding of his own heart. Weak though she may be, he knew she could also easily kill him given the right motivations. After only minutes but what felt like hours, the hair that went from the nape down fell to the floor. He wiped his hand on his robe to dislodge clinging strands, then exchanged the large shears for a smaller pair. All the while still moving slowly and deliberately.
The rest of her hair was still a tangled mess, but in the way were the bandages she had wound over head and eyes. "Shinobi-san," he said carefully, "if I'm to get the rest of this off, I would ask you to remove the bandages from your head."
... dammit.
Hizashiko closed her eyes and curled her hands even tighter into fists, swallowing thickly. Her nerves were already shot with the soft snipping of the shears behind her head, and now... now the cloth... but it had to come off. And really, honestly she doubted that she could keep this secret from Takanobu; from the rest of the monastery, perhaps, but not from him. Trying to ignore how her breathing had increased with her fear, she reached back to dislodge the cloth. "I beg of you. For your safety, for my safety, and the safety of this monastery, you cannot tell a soul what you are about to see. I know you trust them, but I do not and... and it's for the best if you don't. I will explain why afterwards, later, after... the cutting."
She twisted in her chair to look at him, hands still poised on the cloth. "... can you promise that?"
Confused as all get-out, he nevertheless agreed without reservation. Something of import, obviously, she was taking great pains to keep covered. He didn't expect her to explain but felt glad of the offer.
For several moments longer, Hizashiko stared at the monk until she was certain that the other really meant it. Trying not to have a melt down right there and then, she turned back forward and pulled away the cloth, holding it tightly in her hand. Hizashiko was almost surprised to see her own white eyes staring back at her, but not surprised at the green seal that had always been who she was. Her gaze flicked up to the monk behind her, watching his expression, ready to bolt and run depending on how he reacted.
He glanced at her reflection in the mirror, and wondered at her all-white eyes a few moments before shifting attention to the green mark on her forehead. "An omote manji," he said quietly. He had seen the symbol rarely, but still knew it and its meaning. "'Love and mercy for eternity'." An interesting design, truth be told, and he didn't understand what hidden meaning could prompt her to hide it like a shameful secret. But it was not his business. It was hers and hers alone.
Then he returned his attention to her hair and cropped it as close as he dared. She looked almost a boy with it so short, but at least now it had the chance to grow out cleanly. "I do apologize if it looks bad, but I confess I'm not used to leaving any hair at all," he said, cheerfully teasing his own ineptness in the matters of hair-grooming.
Hizashiko's face curled into something bitter at the 'love and mercy' part, but she said nothing. Thankfully that managed to distract her enough that she didn't even realize the cutting was going on, until Takanobu spoke, indicating she was done. The older Hyuuga couldn't help the slight flinch at seeing her shorn hair, gingerly touching the ends of it. Never, ever had her hair been short and some how this hurt, physically, almost as much as all her other wounds. But it couldn't have stayed how it was, and hair did grow back. She'd just have to tell that to herself over and over and over again.
Repeatedly.
"It's fine," Hizashiko answered, voice hushed as she quickly tied the cloth back on, standing up. "Thanks."
Peering at him through the gauze, she reflexively brushed off her neck and head, trying to force down the heebie jeebies she had running down her spine. No, there were no injuries, and she had managed not to freak out and break the monk's face or something. That had to count, right?
"You're welcome, shinobi-san," he said as he put the shears away. He hadn't missed her bitterness. "And I apologize if I have offended you in some way."
"S'long story," Hizashiko said, still moving a little nervously, fingers brushing her neck. "S'okay."
Finally she stopped fidgeting so much, taking in a deep breath and trying to center. Glancing around, she looked over to Takanobu again. "... medicine?"
It wasn't just that she wanted her wounds properly dressed; it was also that she didn't want to talk in an open place. Her 'room' would be where she explained everything.
"Yes."
The walk back was silent, and into the room was silent. Hizashiko quietly stripped again, so he could go over her emaciated form, and she watched him quietly. He chose to focus on a wound on her leg first, most likely so she could get used to how he felt while still seeing him. The woman watched silently for a long time and she spoke without warning, voice pitched low and only changing occasionally if what he was doing hurt.
"... my eyes, and... the seal you saw are both markings of my clan, a clan in Konoha. My eyes are coveted. People would soon as kill me for them as they would blink.. The seal... is there to stop them. When I die, it destroys my eyes. If my eyes are injured, in any way, it kills me. That is the simplified version. It is because of those eyes that I was held and tortured and starved and left to die for almost a decade."
Hizashi paused, and then shook her head. "... I think it was a decade. Time was skewed."
He paused at this revelation, clearly shaken, but pushed forward mentally as he continued to see to her leg. There was an old wound, clumsily stitched, and his brow furrowed at it. Pity it was too old to reopen and stitch properly. So he focused instead on making sure it was healed as well as it could be.
There was little he could do at this point, besides apply poultices to the relatively fresher wounds. It frustrated him immensely. He also knew he would be doing quite a bit of working and praying later, to get rid of the anger he felt towards the woman's tormentors. Anger was poisonous and he wanted it away from him as soon as he might be able.
The information of the manji---the seal, he corrected himself, he stored. He would not tell anyone as he had promised, but when Chiriku-sama found out about the woman and her mark, he knew the two of them would talk. He could also tell through the tone in the woman's voice it was not a subject she wished to discuss at length, so he accepted her explanations without questions. "I thought you might be of Konoha. You've got a trace of the dialect from that region. When Chiriku-sama returns, I'm sure she'll be delighted to meet you. She's good friends with one of the jounin there."
"Never could quite get rid of it- didn't leave on missions enough," Hizashiko nodded, oddly conversational. It was surreal almost to be talking to someone, and not screaming at them or pretending you couldn't hear them mocking and tormenting you. She had never been much of a conversationalist when she was younger, but now that she could talk to someone again, it welled forth and she felt compelled to almost, like the chance would be taken away. "Who's Chiriku-sama? And what jounin?"
White eyes rolled to the ceiling as she tipped her head back, grimacing slightly at the cool poultice over the wound; as gentle as he was, that wound was just a bitch. She had tried forever to get it to close, and she hoped that Takanobu would. Her voice was slightly strained when she spoke again, but she still had to speak, had to talk, had to get words out. "Then again. S'been awhile. Might not have been a jounin then."
He worked a little faster without making it appear he was rushing. She needed sleep, he judged, so he best finish quickly. "Chiriku-sama is a monk and the head of our Order, despite being a woman," he said with a slight smile. "She came here as a young girl and absolutely refused to go to the nunnery, insisting instead she would be a monk. Even then, she showed such spirit, and the previous houshi-sama took quite a parental liking to her. We've had the past twenty years or so to get used to her, and she to us. Interesting times.
"The jounin friend I speak of is a woman named Sarutobi Asuka. They met seven years ago, and have managed to become fast friends."
"Heh," Hizashiko kind of coughed, still looking up at the ceiling. "... good for her. Sometimes.... Fate has a different destiny in store for us then we thought."
Too bad she's often such a bitch about it.
White eyes closed and she grunted softly. "Sarutobi Asuka..." Oh yes, she remembered her. The Sandaime's daughter. But Hizashiko kept that to herself for now and after a moment, figured she should probably explain that one to Takanobu as well.
"...I don't tell you a lot because I fear they're still after me. I escaped... some years ago, but I always worry they'll find me. And the last thing I wish to do is to endanger you or anyone else here by saying too much."
"I understand," he told her. And he did.
Not to long after he finished his examinations, and redressed her wounds before allowing her to dress again. "I'm afraid there is little more I can do than what I have already done, shinobi-san," he said ruefully. He replaced the items in his bag carefully, making sure it was all arranged just so. "Most of your injuries are too old, and we civilians can't use chakra like your medicals in Konoha. I advise you to rest, and to eat." He nodded to the tray still on her table. The food was still good, if cold. "We'll bring in a new plate in a few hours, or when you would call and ask. I'll have a novice outside your door, so if you need anything he can fetch me."
"You've done much," Hizashiko said in a quiet voice, carefully wrapping herself back up in the robe. "Thank you."
For a moment she debated telling him not to have a novice outside her door, it would only make her nervous but... she had a feeling that, for his peace of mind, the novice needed to be there. And for all she knew, she would end up needing Takanobu. So after watching him for a moment, she simply nodded "... understood."
A tinge of sadness touched the smile he gave. "Would that I could do more, shinobi-san. I'll leave you to rest," he continued as he shrugged the bag's strap onto his shoulder. "Your recovery will be slow, but it will happen. And if you can, remember you are safe here."
Hizashiko just made a faint noise to his comment about being safe, watching the monk leave and shut the door softly behind him. Slowly, she moved from where she was to collapse on the pallet, finding herself suddenly and horribly exhausted, even though it was only midday. The bread and tomato from earlier still sat heavily in her stomach, but she hadn't thrown it up yet, so that was probably a good thing. And even though her body was exhausted, her mind was racing around and around in circles so fast that Hyuuga couldn't quite figure it all out or put all together.
Takanobu felt as if he hadn't done enough; but Hizashi doubted he knew exactly all that he had done. It had only been meager care in his eyes, perhaps, but it had been so long since she had care at all. He had been careful around her, respectful without intruding, caring without cloying. He had given her free range and yet orders for no one to bother her so she could recover.
You recovery will be slow, but it will happen.
Could she really ever recover? Perhaps he had only meant physically, but mentally could she. Scars on the skin were easy to spot and treat, but it was the hidden scars that caused the most trouble. She was a skittish, frightened animal who only trusted one person right now, and it was a wary trust that; some part of her still expected him to burst in with Cloud on his heals.
... but she trusted him. It had to be a start.
Staring at one of the windows, Hizashiko watched the clouds move slowly, and then closed her eyes. Maybe she could stay here, and gain back some strength. Maybe... maybe after that, she could finally go home, and see her husband. And her daughter. And maybe even her neesan.
... it was a start.
The day, really, was quite beautiful. It was mild and warm as spring came upon the fire country, plants finally breaking free from the ground. All in all, close to the Great Fire Temple, it seemed like a very peaceful and quiet area, birds singing and all that.
The oddly cloaked figure lurking about kind of ruined the serenity, however.
The clothes, if they could be called that, were tattered, torn, and ruined; it was doubtful that they had ever been washed. The figure underneath it was even worse shape. Dirty bandages covered a host of wounds, and the body was far too thin, emaciated practically. The black hair that had been pulled back was dirty and matted... and the eyes couldn't be seen. The 'cloak' had been carefully pulled down to conceal the figure's eyes, and for good reason. Hyuuga Hizashiko didn't want anyone knowing she was a Hyuuga.
Since her escape... however long ago (she didn't know anymore) she'd managed to stay hidden and secret. Every day had been spent moving, every waking moment spent alert, and only now and then did she dare to grab snatches of food. Hizashiko didn't dare get caught stealing because she had no doubt she would end up back in custody- if not killed for her eyes to begin with. But right in front of her now was a garden, laden with ripe vegetables and Hizashiko's stomach let her know, rather painfully, it wanted food. After being starved for years on end,she could go long periods without eating. But it was starting to have an even more negative effect on her. And this food was right in front of her, perfect for the taking and the Hyuuga couldn't help it.
Like a sickly wraith, she ghosted out and snatched a tomato, the closest thing to her, and then slid back into the trees. Her heart pounded in her chest, waiting for someone to come attack her, and only slowly did she calm when no one came. Hungrily, she lifted the ripe tomato to her mouth- and then paused. The temple rising in the distant suddenly came into sharp focus, and she hesitated. Despite the hunger that gnawed at her, her conscious did not want her to steal from monks. And yet if she put off eating any longer, it was possible she would run out of strength to continue.
Torn, she continued to stand in the shadow of the trees, holding the food in her hands.
The monk called Takanobu rose with his brothers for the early morning prayers and stood in Chiriku-sama's place for the day-greeting ceremonies. Candles were lit and chants sung to fill the temple corridors with sound for hours. And once those important matters were complete, it was time to change into clothing more suited for the day's work in the gardens. Both he and Chiriku-sama had been plenty pleased with the season's yield. During the time she had been in Konoha, they had discussed via letter how to increase how much was grown without sapping too many nutrients from the earth. The temple already employed crop rotation, and now they were adding in a bit of variety as well.
He felt some pity for her; between the extended visit to Konoha, the gala being held that required her presence at the capital, and her upcoming tour, she was denied the simpler pleasures of a monk's life. After Asuka, he was possibly Chiriku-sama's best friend and certainly her confidant. Certainly, while not a father-figure to the young woman (that honor was reserved for Joumaru-sama, God bless his soul), he liked to think he was something of an uncle. He knew she hated being away more than she absolutely had to be, and he also knew how much joy she took from working. The gardens especially she loved: doting on the plants, plunging her hands into the earth to either plant seeds or meticulously pluck weeds, and inspecting leaves for signs of insect pests and disease.
The work was restful for her, and sadly she couldn't spend as much time in the gardens as she would like. Her administrative duties as the head of the faith combined with the game of catch-up that had started in October had continued on and blended into the preparations for her departure for the Capital in June. Asuka, Chiriku-sama had told him, would not be her partner this year as the shinobi was still recovering from the wounds received fighting the criminal Sasoriza. The houshi-sama did not look pleased with being partnered with someone new, but that could also be because of the anger still felt that Asuka had gone off like she had.
Even as they had talked, monk-to-monk with no one else privy, he could see she was holding back the full scope of her feelings in regards to the whole mess. Which was why he regretted the lack of time she could spend in the gardens. She could work out her frustrations, her anxieties in a beneficial way and return to the temple relieved and in lighter spirits. With no real clue as to what would or could happen at the gala (despite Chiriku-sama's oft and quietly repeated threats to beat some sense into her friend), he still felt she needed a return to normalcy. So even as he lead the procession down to the gardens he was already ticking off items on the list of things to do to try and funnel as much of the paperwork as possible to others who could handle it, reserving only the most important matters for her. That meant more work for himself, but unlike others he was better at cat-napping during meditations.
After all, he had yet to be caught.
Hoe in hand, straw hat on his head, and a basket strapped to his back filled with other tools and a small corked gourd of water, he glanced at the midmorning sun and smiled at all the beauty of God's earth. And beneath it was another twinge of sadness that Chiriku-sama couldn't be here. A light shake of the head to dismiss the thoughts before he started directing the brothers to their work. Not that they needed direction, but habit was nice. The other monks went to their areas and set down their identical gardening kits, digging through for what they needed before getting to work.
Takanobu's focus was on the tomato plants. Chiriku-sama enjoyed tomatos quite a bit. Along with garlic and mushrooms. Put the three together and she was a very happy monk. Almost as happy as when on her monthly chocolate binge, he reflected with a quiet smile. Humming a few bars of the morning's chant, he set the hoe down before beginning his own inspection of the plants.
And froze when he saw how a stem was torn.
Frowning a little, he studied it closely, noting the shape to realize the stem was the fruit-holding kind but there was no fruit. None of the other plants were damaged, he quickly determined, which increased the oddity. These gardens were for the monastery's own sustenance and not for others except as offerings and handouts to those who needed it.
He straightened, dark eyes scanning the treeline surrounding the gardens with intent. He could fight if necessary but hoped he didn't have to, but he was not so naive as to believe someone desperate enough to steal wouldn't resort to violence. "Hello?" he called, then waved a hand dismissively at the curious monks who had glanced over.
The noise the monks made was loud to Hizashiko's hypersensitive senses and she quickly faded back into the trees and then stilled, hand holding the tomato perhaps a bit too tight. Her heart strained in her chest, pounding against her ribcage but the emaciated woman barely breathed. Muffling the pain at putting more stress on her body, and activated the Byakugan and grimaced at the what entered her gaze. There were a lot of monks, a LOT of them, confirming her theory that she had stolen from monks. Her conscious scolded her while he body threw a fit over the fact that she hadn't yet eaten that juicy, delicious, to-
... so he'd noticed it.
Hizashiko flinched behind her tree as the male monk leaned down and inspected the torn plant; how had she missed that she had torn it? Granted, she knew WHY but... it still grated on her nerves. She was a shinobi, even a broken one, and she had left her mark so carelessly, after being so careful...
But it was the hunger that was driving her now, her body weak and pathetic. Even after all her time free, she still hadn't been able to gain back much weight from her years of starvation. However... she simply could not steal from the monastery, from the monks, from... from whomever who needed it more. Hyuuga Hizashiko was a shinobi, and even more than that, she was still a Hyuuga and she had her pride. Stealing scraps was one thing; stealing like this was another.
Forcing her rigid body to move, and weak limbs to walk, she cautiously stepped out from behind the tree and inched to the tree line. Her head remained bowed, even as she watched the monk carefully, and one arm slowly stretched out, still holding the now slightly bruised tomato.
Body poised to flee if she was suddenly grabbed or attack, Hizashiko spoke, her voice gravely and weak from disuse and hunger. "... sorry."
Takanobu blanched at the sight of the emaciated woman, not from fright or disgust but from concern. Exhaling a silent prayer he approached her slowly as he had noted the tense way she held herself. She looked horrible. "No, no, it's all right," he said quickly but not in a rush. She needed more than food; she needed a bath and definitely needed medical attention. Happily, that area was something he was quite well-versed in.
Something about how she stood reminded him of Joumaru-sama, so he went out on a limb. "You look like you could use more, in fact, shinobi-san. Would you, would you come back to the temple? It's no bother to us."
Could it be a trap...?
Hizashiko watched the other warily, not that he could tell, Byakugan still activated. Monks didn't lie though- unless he wasn't really a monk, and it was a trap. But there are other monks around and she'd seen them all come from the temple. And his body language, while it spoke of many things, didn't speak of dishonesty; worry, maybe some fear, and a tinge of respect, but no dishonesty. Her vision took in the other monks around, most who were carefully avoiding the conversation and not looking. It showed a measure of respect and she wavered momentarily. It had been forever since she had slept somewhere and didn't feel death around a corner. And if she didn't stop soon and rest and eat, all her effort to escape would be for nothing, and that really just kind of pissed her off.
After a moment, she slowly pulled the tomato back and held it close to her, almost as if she feared it would be taken away. Several long moments after that, she nodded just faintly to Takanobu. "... all right."
He nodded in return before turning and whistling a command. Instantly, a pair of shaved-headed youngsters in novices' robes rushed over. "Ikki, get to the kitchens and tell the cooks to prepare a fasting meal, then go find my kit," he said to the boy on the left before turning to the right. "Tanyu, get a lukewarm bath drawn and bed prepared for our guest." The boys nodded and sprinted off, their bare feet kicking up clods of dust and dirt.
One of the other monks took that as a signal to approach, and gave a respectful bow before speaking. "Takanobu-san?"
"We have a guest, Brother Hisato," Takanobu replied. "If you would inform the others and have Sozen and Mokichi head up in about, oh, ten minutes, I would greatly appreciate it." The two men he named were also highly medically trained, and if he needed their help he would have them nearby. For now, he suspected their guest would be more comfortable dealing with one person at a time. Hisato nodded and walked towards to where the other monks were focused on not watching this interaction, but still had ears and peripheral vision quite intent on the goings-on.
Takanobu turned back to the woman who was studiously staring at the uneaten tomato in her hand. "It's all right," he said gently. "You can eat it if you like."
Hizashiko felt her body tense and her mind start to race at breakneck speed. Too many people, too many around her, and too many who were being informed of the fact that she was around. Nervously, her head twisted to check her blindspot, but no one was there and the strain of keeping the Byakugan up was too much; she let it drop and almost seemed to huddle where she was. These were just monks, and they weren't going to hurt her, they were going to help her. She would get food, and a bath.
...a bath sounded so nice.
Her head jerked up slightly as she was addressed, and if she'd had the energy, she may have blushed. Instead, she simply nodded faintly to the other and lifted up the tomato, biting into it, almost clumsily. Teeth were used to hard bread and sickly water, not well tended to and succulent tomatoes. But it did taste heavenly, and though she hastily wiped off the mess on her chin, she let herself enjoy the first good food she'd had in forever. It was amazing how, after being deprived of it, the simplest things seemed like the most wondrous. After a moment of enjoy it, she took another, smaller bite and the hood turned towards Takanobu, eyes still covered. ".... thank you."
"You are most welcome," he replied with the sincerity of truth. Inwardly, he wondered why she kept her eyes covered so, but for now it wasn't his place to inquire. Instead he would tend to the most basic physical needs of food, water, cleanliness and shelter, and then maybe talk with her if she felt up to it. The poor woman looked so nervous despite her stature. She would need to relax before she might speak of whatever had travailed upon her.
He watched the other monks as he waited patiently for her to finish eating. Only then did he ask again if she would like to come to the temple. She knew what awaited her there now, but it still had to be her decision.
Slowly but sure, Hizashiko finished the tomato, licking her lips. It felt like lead in her stomach (and she was pretty sure it was swollen now too) but every single bite had been worth it. And now that it hadn't been taken away, and she had been left alone for the, she felt much calmer. Or as calm as a tortured escapee could be, given the circumstances. Resisting the urge to lick her fingers, she wiped them absently on her stained clothes, and watched the monk- Takanobu- studiously not watch her until he asked his question. After a moment, she nodded and turned her body towards him, trusting almost. "Please."
The monk nodded and after a few hesitant steps, Hizashiko fell behind him, following him. The road they took was overly exposed and she felt that paranoia creep up on her again, no matter how hard she tried to push it back down. And only belatedly did she realize they were going uphill, higher in elevation with each step they took. Before she realized it, she was sucking in air nosily, her lungs having trouble adjusting. Doggedly she kept pace though, refusing to fall behind anymore or slow down. She was a damn shinobi, and a damn Hyuuga, and she was NOT going to let some stupid little hill be the end of her or something.
... she was still fervently glad when they reached the temple.
Once they reached the temple, Takanobu murmured another message to the boy Ikki, who nodded and bounded off again. Takanobu shook his head mentally at the youth's exuberance; that still needed to be channeled better before the boy could think of getting his official robes, some time in the future. Returning his attention to the woman, he guided her to a small room that was private without being claustrophobic. He had picked up on her distress on the way up the path, and how she had relaxed only slightly when trees blocked an imaginary onlooker's view. The notion that the less people interacting with her, the better, was reaffirmed.
The room was simple, and actually a guest room of sorts. Sarutobi Asuka had stayed there for her visit years ago, and a pallet for sleeping and a table with a single chair remained yet. The windows were high to provide air and some light. The oil lamp would provide more, when lit.
"This is for you," he said, indicating the tidy space with a nod of his head. "We'll have some food for you shortly. After you've eaten, you can either sleep, or avail yourself for a bath." He spoke kindly, never pushing or demanding. He wanted to impress most of all that on the woman that she was here freely, and could come and go as she wished. (After they managed to do a physical on her. She was suffering from more than starvation, he would gamble.) "Aa, forgive my late introduction. My name is Takanobu, shinobi-san. And it is a pleasure to be of any help you would like us to provide."
Hizashiko stood in the doorway after Takanobu entered, body sideways so she could see both in and out. The space seemed small at first, but there were windows, ones she could leap out of she needed. The pallet would be nice, the chair could be used as a weapon... After a few seconds, she carefully inched inside. It was her way of showing trust and respect to the monk who had, in her mind, gone out of his way. Hizashiko was smart enough to realize that this was only the tip of the iceberg, and that she would probably only get more difficult as time went on, even if she tried hard not to.
Glancing around the room, and carefully nudging the pallet with her foot, she glanced back to Takanobu, nodding slightly at his name. Swallowing to help ease her talking, Hizashiko quietly answered back. "... it's fine. It... it probably be best, for you and for your home, that you just kept calling me shinobi-san." That way, if anyone asked for her by her name, they wouldn't be forced to lie- or more awfully, tell the truth against their will.
Silently, she contemplated a bath before his other words sunk in, and she hesitated. After a moment, she lifted her hands, half mimicking like she was tying something around her forehead. "Do... do you have just... just a strip of cloth, I could tie?"
It would easily cover both her seal, and her eyes. If these monks were going to go out of their way to help her, then she was going to do her damndest to make sure that she didn't somehow accidentally put them in harm's way.
"Certainly," Takanobu answered, and with a polite bow he swept from the room, his robes not quite dusting the floor. He saw Ikki approaching with a tray of watery vegetable broth, lemon water, and thin unleavened bread. "Thank you, Ikki."
"I also brought your medicine kit," the boy said, indicating the strap of the bag that hung from his shoulder.
"Excellent." Takanobu took the tray. "Fetch out the large bandage role, and the cutting knife. Now put them on the tray." Ikki did as told, and Takanobu nodded again. "Now, leave the bag outside, and make sure we're not disturbed unless it's an emergency. Otherwise, have as much as you can deferred to Brother Hisato, and tell him no that no one's to approach our guest absent my permission or presence."
Ikki bobbed a bow. "Understood, sir." He placed the bag near the doorway, then held the door open for Takanobu and closed it once the senior monk was inside.
Takanobu walked to the table and set the tray down. "Use as much as you need," he said as he motioned to the white cloth roll and the small knife. And then he stepped back to both give her space as well as observe.
Hizashiko watched as Takanobu left the room, and the faintest of smiles lifted her lips at his orders. In just a short while, he had picked up on several of her triggers, which did speak a lot; most people missed them, especially civilians. Not only did she appreciate that on a hospitality level, but it simply made her much calmer to know there wouldn't be several people surrounding her at once; the Hyuuga also didn't have to worry that she would accidentally injure someone who, with the best intentions, could come up behind her. But more importantly, one of the best words she had heard since arriving, was 'medicine kit'. For some time now, she'd been forced to leave wounds unattended and it was... well, she tried not think about it. Having them cleaned and properly bandaged would be another welcome respite.
Her body stiffened at the door suddenly shutting and the knife on the tray and before she could help herself, she recoiled from the monk and took a step back, nearly stumbling over the mat on the floor. A choked noise rose up in her throat and warily Hizashiko watched as he set the tray with its contents down. After a moment, her muscles slowly relaxed, but it left her trembling and weak. Continuing to watch the other warily, she crept forward until she was at the table, and she couldn't help but snatch the knife and the the white cloth, before backing away again.
Keeping Takanobu in her peripheral vision (and trying hard to calm down again, he would not hurt her) she unrolled a long strip and then cut it, placing the knife back on the tray. Licking her lips, she slowly turned so her back was facing him; it took more willpower then she was willing to admit. Letting the hood fall back, to reveal that matted mess of black hair, she wound the strip first around her forehead (to cover the seal) and then let a small bit hang down, to cover her eyes. It hampered her vision, but only slightly, and kept her white eyes hidden.
Slowly she turned back to the monk, face gaunt, but still holding faint traces of a proud shinobi. "... thank you."
"You're welcome," he replied, working to keep tone and expression pleasant. But it didn't much help the concern and grief in his eyes at what he saw. 'Ill-used' was the paltry term to come to mind. Lord Above, what had happened to her? He had seen the tattered clothes and cloak, he had heard the labored breathing on the path up to the temple, and he had seen the way she had tensed and near-stumbled out of skittishness. But it felt like it had all become more real once he could see the gauntness of her face, as well as the scars that marked the pale skin and the hands that had clenched the knife. Even without the admission of her social class (shinobi), she couldn't have been anything but a fighter of significant training.
He wished Chiriku-sama was here. Her mentor had been a retired jounin, and her best friend was a current one. She best understood the shinobi mentality, and could probably help the woman before him more than he. He would still do his best to offer all the aid he could give. And his healer's heart ached to be able to do more. Slowly, he reminded himself. He would need to be slow around her, and gentle, and better earn her trust before he could do much more. Unless she asked. Please ask. In the meantime, he remained close to the door, steady and patient.
"Do you require more, shinobi-san?"
Hizashiko stared at him slightly and then looked slightly to the side. "The... the younger monk said that... he had brought your medicine bag. If it wouldn't be much trouble..."
It was the closest Hizashiko could come to asking without outright asking. They had done so much already, had given so much already and though, logically, she knew that it was given without repayment needed, she still felt as if she had asked too much.
He succeeded in reining in the sigh of relief but not the expression. "No trouble at all," he assured her, ducking out of the room only long enough to retrieve the bag and return. "Ikki is a good lad," he continued, closing the door. He gave the name freely so she might draw a measure of comfort at knowing who was who. Shinobi liked to know these things, he had learned from Joumaru-sama. "He's a novice, but he's quite interested in medicine. He's got a talent I hope to cultivate." He studied her thoughtfully. The scars were old, and the clothing revealed nothing as yet that he could notice. "Where does it hurt?" He would nicely badger her later about eating; right now he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to give her medical care.
For several seconds, Hizashiko stared very blankly at the monk. His question made sense, really, but she couldn't figure out how to answer it. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she struggled through the issue, and her look became shuttered and troubled. A hand ran over her mouth and after several long more moments of confused struggling, she answered helplessly. "... I don't know. Everything has hurt everywhere for so long I... I don't know."
Just because the torture would stop, didn't mean that the pain would stop, most of the time. Broken bones would be left broken, wounds left open to fester, deep cuts that left her alive but didn't want to heal... Her body had been battered and malnourished for so long that a dull ache had simply settled into her bones and never left her. Some things flared and hurt more then others but usually... usually it was just her whole body.
He hesitated, thinking hard. Another wish for Chiriku-sama to be here instead of at the gala, as she was a woman as well as a monk. A woman would be more comfortable with another woman, just as men were more comfortable with men. If nothing else, since Chiriku-sama lacked the full training, her presence might help to better ease the woman's undoubted anxiety. "With your permission, I would like to examine you, but if you prefer I can send for a nun. Sister Miya is about as skilled as I," he offered.
"No," Hizashiko answered quickly, attempting to not stiffen. "No. You're... please."
Takanobu had hit something, had made her easily trust him. He was an anchoring presence currently, in a bizarre way, and she didn't want to deal with someone else, to start all over again. She couldn't bare her body to someone she didn't have trust in.
Takanobu nodded in understand, and asked her to undress so he could better examine her. And he couldn't keep the wince from his face when he saw how badly off she truly was. Bruised and scarred and skin stretched painfully, painfully tight over bone. Burn scars, stabbing scars, scars from being bound... there were so many, it was impossible to categorize them. Her back looked like it had been whipped repeatedly, over and over and over again. Her wrists were still scabbed from manacles and... well, overall, it was pretty bad. Ragged chest bindings and underwear, and equally ragged haphazard bandages, stained with old blood. And above all else was the sheer filth that looked practically sewn to her body and filled every seam of skin, few as they were. He wondered how he hadn't smelled it before now.
Thoughts for later.
"I will tend to you, shinobi-san, but first it might be better if you had a bath. And before that, I want you to eat something." He took off his own outer robe, the same one he had been intending to do garden work in, and handed it to her so she had something cleaner against her skin, and so she wouldn't feel even more exposed.
Hizashiko had been staring at a wall, and startled suddenly at the orange robe being handed to her. She looked up to Takanobu, surprised, and then gingerly took the robe, fingers running over it briefly. It felt like silk, practically, and she didn't hesitated to slide it over her head, draping it over her emaciated form. That was the second time today that something so simple felt so wonderful, and she let herself enjoy it for a moment, eyes closing just briefly. After a moment, she opened them again with a soft sigh and refocused on Takanobu.
"... I can't," Hizashiko started, and then added in, explaining. "The... the tomato, was enough, for now. I... I don't even know if I can keep that down. But... but I will bathe."
And oh, did she want a bath.
"The bread at least," he insisted, in a tone that while gentle still brooked no argument. As a monk he asked, but as a healer he however sweetly nevertheless commanded. "Slowly and in small pieces. It will help to absorb the tomato's acid and help calm your stomach." He smiled kindly. "We have experience in this sort of matter, when a Brother goes for a long fast and comes back famished. Eat just a little bit, and I can take you to the bath."
Hizashiko debated arguing with the monk, eying him slightly (or as best she could through the cloth). But she could see that he wasn't going to budge and she desperately wanted a bath. And she also had to admit that he DID know more about this than her. A soft almost sigh slipped past her lips and she headed over to the bread on the table, shaking fingers tearing it to pieces. Even though she could tell it was fresh baked, she was still surprised when she put the piece in her mouth and it was soft, not the hard crust that she was used to.
After a few bites, she cast the other a shrewd look, something that could almost be amusement touching her face. "... Good enough?"
His amusement was more visible, though clearly he was still flooded with concern. "It will suffice for now," he answered.
He lead her to where Tanyu had prepared the bath and noted with approval that he had, in fact, prepared two. One was warm without being hot, and the other still steamed. No doubt so that Shinobi-san could simply soak and rest for however long it took the other bath to cool enough so she could actually get clean.
"I shall be right outside if you need me, shinobi-san, so please do not hesitate to call out."
...okay, THIS was the best sight she had seen in YEARS.
Hizashiko absently nodded to the monk, more distracted by the bath in front of her. Besides the two baths, one steaming still, there were towels, and soap, and a scrub brush and extra robes and.... oh, this was going to be wonderful. Takanobu must have seen how she was distracted and simply slipped out quietly, because when Hizashiko looked around again, he was gone. But that wasn't important. What WAS important was that there was a BATH in front of her.
After a moment (still a bit awestruck), she hastily peeled out of the robes, and then out of her dirty underthings and bindings. There was only a pause when she got to the water, when she could see how terrible she really looked.... but then she was slipping into the cooler bath, resisting the urge to groan happily. For a VERY long time, she simply sat there, before she roused herself to grab the scrub brush and the soap and actually get to work on the years of grime, dirt, and dried blood.
Once done with that bath, Hizashiko grimaced when she realized she had turned the water brackish and very quickly slipped out. Not bothering to check how hot the other was, she slipped into that as quickly as the first and slid until she was almost all the way under, just her eyes above the water level. Coming up only to breathe, she stayed like that the longest, possibly falling asleep briefly. Slowly sitting up (eventually), she tried to run a hand back through her hair when she realized that a) the cloth was still on her face and b) her hair was a disgustingly matted mess.
Attempting to use the soap cleaned it up slightly but in the end, she realized that she was going to have to just cut it and sighed very softly. Slowly she levered herself up from the tub and crawled over to put on a robe and tie the cloth back over her eyes. Yawning slightly, she half opened the door, voice oddly quiet. "... Takanobu-san? Do you... have something I could cut my hair with?"
After leaving her to attend to her own cleaning but always keeping a sharp ear tuned for any sounds of distress, Takanobu had settled himself to standing near the door while he entered a light state of meditation. He had no idea who she was, and given the request that he continue to refer to her as 'shinobi-san' indicated any answers would be hard-won. And then her injuries, and the way she refused to allow him any look at her eyes... She moved too confidently for him to think that there could be something wrong with her vision. Unless she had been living with any diminishment for some time. Humans were versatile creatures and could adapt to almost anything.
But more worrying than her eyes was the rest of her body. If he had to answer a question as to her condition, he would have to say it looked like she had been tortured. The marks upon marks and scars upon scars, the faint scent of fear (that, he had been able to detect) that bloomed at every sudden movement and noise, her posture... He lived a sheltered life, he knew. Never would he be able to imagine the horrors she had undergone and frankly he hoped to be forever denied that knowledge.
The injuries themselves did not daunt him. The Brothers were widely renowned for their healing skills even if they didn't have the benefit of chakra-healing that medical shinobi learned, and therefore were called upon time and again to attend to those in need of help. But just to see that much pain and misery and keen desire to hurt inflicted upon her skin, upon her soul by another human... He would have wept openly if he had less control. Instead he focused on what he would do to help her and how he would begin.
The flow of thought paused when he heard the wooden door creak on its hinges and his name spoken. His smile, as ever, was friendly and open. "I'm sure we can scrounge something up, shinobi-san. Hair-clipping is another talent of ours. But don't worry," he added with a twinkle in his eye, "we won't shave it all off."
Hizashiko, before she could stop it, felt herself smile a little bit in return. "I don't know. It might all be a lost cause by now. But appreciated."
Slowly she let the door open, hands absently folding themselves in the robes to hide the sickliness. The older woman looked over herself, critically, as someone went to fetch something to clip her hair with, and then sighed. "I do believe I'm a mess."
"For the moment, I'm afraid I would have to agree," he spoke genially. "Small steps, surely, but I'm sure you won't be a mess for long." The novice monk arrived with a folded leather booklet that contained shears of several sizes and handed it to Takanobu before dipping a bow and hurrying away without a word. Takanobu said to Shinobi-san, "We should do this here, that way the clean-up would be easier." By which he meant the bathing room could be easily swept as the used water was dumped, instead of having to have her sleeping room swept clean.
Hizashiko felt a trickle of unease snake down her spine at how Takanobu said 'we'. He intended to be the one to cut her hair which, while it was a fair assumption, wasn't something she could let happen. Her eyes slipped to the rather... sharp... shears and that small snake of unease turned a lot worse. She couldn't let someone that close to her head, her neck, her spine, with all those sharp instruments, even if she did feel trust in the monk.
Forcing a smile that she knew was razor thin, she reached out with one thin hand. "I can get it. Thank you."
Takanobu eased the wallet out of her reach, that glint of velvet-coated steel appearing for a moment in his eyes. He was not unfriendly, but in his duties as her self-appointed caretaker he would not allow another chance of harm to come to her. "I do not doubt your will, shinobi-san," he said, acknowledging her and the respect afforded, "but I doubt your current ability. You are starved," he continued forwardly. "You are weakened, and I would be highly remiss to allow you a chance where you might accidentally hurt yourself, whatever your intentions.
"You've trusted me this far," he said quietly. "Please to trust me a little more. Once you came here, you allowed yourself to be cloaked in our protection. That will stand for as long as you are here. You are safe here, shinobi-san. No one will enter these walls who will wish you harm, nor shall harm come from those already therein."
Hizashiko took in a deep breath, surprised to find frustration welling up in her. It was probably good that she was beginning to feel again. but it could not have come at a worse time. After slowly releasing the breath, she carefully put her hand down and regarded Takanobu steadily. This was going to be difficult to explain to him, but she was going to have to try to get him to hand over those shears.
"... I know," she finally answered, voice oddly steady and firm. "I know that no one here, especially you, will harm me, I know this logically. But I cannot control my reactions, I cannot control how my body and heart react, even when my mind tells me otherwise. As I'm sure even you have realized, it has literally been beaten into me. I trust you, very much. I bared those..." her face twisted at the thought of the scars and she continued as if she had never hesitated. "... I trust you. But believe me, that there is more of a chance I will get hurt with you cutting my hair then I will cutting my own. I will concede to you being close, to being ready to intervene, to telling me no, stop, but I can't... I literally can't let you do it. Please."
He couldn't smile. As pleased as he was to see a bit of fire return to her, he couldn't smile.
"I've heard it said shinobi are a stubborn breed," he said conversationally. "I've had a chance to see see it in action as well. So I do not doubt you." And now he did smile. Years of having debates both with Joumaru-sama as well as his protege had learned him in the art of dealing with the stubborn-minded. "If you will concede to me telling you 'no, stop', then concede now. For right now, I say 'no, stop' at the prospect of you cutting your own hair. I would risk injury to my person more gladly than I could suffer to just stand by and watch you. I say 'please', shinobi-san. Please."
... that was not fair.
Hizashiko was forced to look away, look almost surly, but it was hiding the nervousness that was seizing hold of her body. Part of her wanted to start pacing, and it took a lot of willpower to not do it. Her hands were shoved in her sleeves and she was very upset to realize that he was probably right. Her hands were shaking and that just made her all the more upset. It didn't help that he had been reasonable and she could hear the deep plea in his please.
The older shinobi looked at him briefly and then looked the other way again. Her voice was a nervous mumble when she spoke, "... I need to see you, when you do it."
"That's fair." Another wave of relief that she had agreed. Finding mirrors wouldn't be a problem, for after all the monks had to shave their heads every other day to get rid of unwanted hair.
And so mirrors were found and arranged in the bathing room, and a chair brought in as well so she could have something to sit on. Normally novices knelt on the floor to be shaved, but she wasn't a novice and this wasn't normal. He stood behind her, the wallet in hand but unopened. "Can you see me?"
Hizashiko curled her hand into fists in her sleeves, allowing herself to pace slightly as they set things up. It would work, sure, but her body was still tense and frightened by the thought of someone with shears behind her head. She continued to pace a little more after the chair had been set, but finally made herself move over and sit. It took everything to not squirm and twist around, and she eyed the mirrors. But when Takanobu moved behind her, she could see him, VERY clearly. It soothed her somewhat, but... not completely.
"Yes," Hizashiko answered, unable to keep her voice from being clipped and tight. "Please. Quickly?"
"I'll do my best," he promised.
The big shears came out first. He moved slowly and carefully so as to not alarm her. Carefully taking the mass in one hand, he lifted it a little and with extreme care and precision began cutting through the thick tangle. He had to force himself to not apologize whenever she flinched however minutely, and to ignore the pounding of his own heart. Weak though she may be, he knew she could also easily kill him given the right motivations. After only minutes but what felt like hours, the hair that went from the nape down fell to the floor. He wiped his hand on his robe to dislodge clinging strands, then exchanged the large shears for a smaller pair. All the while still moving slowly and deliberately.
The rest of her hair was still a tangled mess, but in the way were the bandages she had wound over head and eyes. "Shinobi-san," he said carefully, "if I'm to get the rest of this off, I would ask you to remove the bandages from your head."
... dammit.
Hizashiko closed her eyes and curled her hands even tighter into fists, swallowing thickly. Her nerves were already shot with the soft snipping of the shears behind her head, and now... now the cloth... but it had to come off. And really, honestly she doubted that she could keep this secret from Takanobu; from the rest of the monastery, perhaps, but not from him. Trying to ignore how her breathing had increased with her fear, she reached back to dislodge the cloth. "I beg of you. For your safety, for my safety, and the safety of this monastery, you cannot tell a soul what you are about to see. I know you trust them, but I do not and... and it's for the best if you don't. I will explain why afterwards, later, after... the cutting."
She twisted in her chair to look at him, hands still poised on the cloth. "... can you promise that?"
Confused as all get-out, he nevertheless agreed without reservation. Something of import, obviously, she was taking great pains to keep covered. He didn't expect her to explain but felt glad of the offer.
For several moments longer, Hizashiko stared at the monk until she was certain that the other really meant it. Trying not to have a melt down right there and then, she turned back forward and pulled away the cloth, holding it tightly in her hand. Hizashiko was almost surprised to see her own white eyes staring back at her, but not surprised at the green seal that had always been who she was. Her gaze flicked up to the monk behind her, watching his expression, ready to bolt and run depending on how he reacted.
He glanced at her reflection in the mirror, and wondered at her all-white eyes a few moments before shifting attention to the green mark on her forehead. "An omote manji," he said quietly. He had seen the symbol rarely, but still knew it and its meaning. "'Love and mercy for eternity'." An interesting design, truth be told, and he didn't understand what hidden meaning could prompt her to hide it like a shameful secret. But it was not his business. It was hers and hers alone.
Then he returned his attention to her hair and cropped it as close as he dared. She looked almost a boy with it so short, but at least now it had the chance to grow out cleanly. "I do apologize if it looks bad, but I confess I'm not used to leaving any hair at all," he said, cheerfully teasing his own ineptness in the matters of hair-grooming.
Hizashiko's face curled into something bitter at the 'love and mercy' part, but she said nothing. Thankfully that managed to distract her enough that she didn't even realize the cutting was going on, until Takanobu spoke, indicating she was done. The older Hyuuga couldn't help the slight flinch at seeing her shorn hair, gingerly touching the ends of it. Never, ever had her hair been short and some how this hurt, physically, almost as much as all her other wounds. But it couldn't have stayed how it was, and hair did grow back. She'd just have to tell that to herself over and over and over again.
Repeatedly.
"It's fine," Hizashiko answered, voice hushed as she quickly tied the cloth back on, standing up. "Thanks."
Peering at him through the gauze, she reflexively brushed off her neck and head, trying to force down the heebie jeebies she had running down her spine. No, there were no injuries, and she had managed not to freak out and break the monk's face or something. That had to count, right?
"You're welcome, shinobi-san," he said as he put the shears away. He hadn't missed her bitterness. "And I apologize if I have offended you in some way."
"S'long story," Hizashiko said, still moving a little nervously, fingers brushing her neck. "S'okay."
Finally she stopped fidgeting so much, taking in a deep breath and trying to center. Glancing around, she looked over to Takanobu again. "... medicine?"
It wasn't just that she wanted her wounds properly dressed; it was also that she didn't want to talk in an open place. Her 'room' would be where she explained everything.
"Yes."
The walk back was silent, and into the room was silent. Hizashiko quietly stripped again, so he could go over her emaciated form, and she watched him quietly. He chose to focus on a wound on her leg first, most likely so she could get used to how he felt while still seeing him. The woman watched silently for a long time and she spoke without warning, voice pitched low and only changing occasionally if what he was doing hurt.
"... my eyes, and... the seal you saw are both markings of my clan, a clan in Konoha. My eyes are coveted. People would soon as kill me for them as they would blink.. The seal... is there to stop them. When I die, it destroys my eyes. If my eyes are injured, in any way, it kills me. That is the simplified version. It is because of those eyes that I was held and tortured and starved and left to die for almost a decade."
Hizashi paused, and then shook her head. "... I think it was a decade. Time was skewed."
He paused at this revelation, clearly shaken, but pushed forward mentally as he continued to see to her leg. There was an old wound, clumsily stitched, and his brow furrowed at it. Pity it was too old to reopen and stitch properly. So he focused instead on making sure it was healed as well as it could be.
There was little he could do at this point, besides apply poultices to the relatively fresher wounds. It frustrated him immensely. He also knew he would be doing quite a bit of working and praying later, to get rid of the anger he felt towards the woman's tormentors. Anger was poisonous and he wanted it away from him as soon as he might be able.
The information of the manji---the seal, he corrected himself, he stored. He would not tell anyone as he had promised, but when Chiriku-sama found out about the woman and her mark, he knew the two of them would talk. He could also tell through the tone in the woman's voice it was not a subject she wished to discuss at length, so he accepted her explanations without questions. "I thought you might be of Konoha. You've got a trace of the dialect from that region. When Chiriku-sama returns, I'm sure she'll be delighted to meet you. She's good friends with one of the jounin there."
"Never could quite get rid of it- didn't leave on missions enough," Hizashiko nodded, oddly conversational. It was surreal almost to be talking to someone, and not screaming at them or pretending you couldn't hear them mocking and tormenting you. She had never been much of a conversationalist when she was younger, but now that she could talk to someone again, it welled forth and she felt compelled to almost, like the chance would be taken away. "Who's Chiriku-sama? And what jounin?"
White eyes rolled to the ceiling as she tipped her head back, grimacing slightly at the cool poultice over the wound; as gentle as he was, that wound was just a bitch. She had tried forever to get it to close, and she hoped that Takanobu would. Her voice was slightly strained when she spoke again, but she still had to speak, had to talk, had to get words out. "Then again. S'been awhile. Might not have been a jounin then."
He worked a little faster without making it appear he was rushing. She needed sleep, he judged, so he best finish quickly. "Chiriku-sama is a monk and the head of our Order, despite being a woman," he said with a slight smile. "She came here as a young girl and absolutely refused to go to the nunnery, insisting instead she would be a monk. Even then, she showed such spirit, and the previous houshi-sama took quite a parental liking to her. We've had the past twenty years or so to get used to her, and she to us. Interesting times.
"The jounin friend I speak of is a woman named Sarutobi Asuka. They met seven years ago, and have managed to become fast friends."
"Heh," Hizashiko kind of coughed, still looking up at the ceiling. "... good for her. Sometimes.... Fate has a different destiny in store for us then we thought."
Too bad she's often such a bitch about it.
White eyes closed and she grunted softly. "Sarutobi Asuka..." Oh yes, she remembered her. The Sandaime's daughter. But Hizashiko kept that to herself for now and after a moment, figured she should probably explain that one to Takanobu as well.
"...I don't tell you a lot because I fear they're still after me. I escaped... some years ago, but I always worry they'll find me. And the last thing I wish to do is to endanger you or anyone else here by saying too much."
"I understand," he told her. And he did.
Not to long after he finished his examinations, and redressed her wounds before allowing her to dress again. "I'm afraid there is little more I can do than what I have already done, shinobi-san," he said ruefully. He replaced the items in his bag carefully, making sure it was all arranged just so. "Most of your injuries are too old, and we civilians can't use chakra like your medicals in Konoha. I advise you to rest, and to eat." He nodded to the tray still on her table. The food was still good, if cold. "We'll bring in a new plate in a few hours, or when you would call and ask. I'll have a novice outside your door, so if you need anything he can fetch me."
"You've done much," Hizashiko said in a quiet voice, carefully wrapping herself back up in the robe. "Thank you."
For a moment she debated telling him not to have a novice outside her door, it would only make her nervous but... she had a feeling that, for his peace of mind, the novice needed to be there. And for all she knew, she would end up needing Takanobu. So after watching him for a moment, she simply nodded "... understood."
A tinge of sadness touched the smile he gave. "Would that I could do more, shinobi-san. I'll leave you to rest," he continued as he shrugged the bag's strap onto his shoulder. "Your recovery will be slow, but it will happen. And if you can, remember you are safe here."
Hizashiko just made a faint noise to his comment about being safe, watching the monk leave and shut the door softly behind him. Slowly, she moved from where she was to collapse on the pallet, finding herself suddenly and horribly exhausted, even though it was only midday. The bread and tomato from earlier still sat heavily in her stomach, but she hadn't thrown it up yet, so that was probably a good thing. And even though her body was exhausted, her mind was racing around and around in circles so fast that Hyuuga couldn't quite figure it all out or put all together.
Takanobu felt as if he hadn't done enough; but Hizashi doubted he knew exactly all that he had done. It had only been meager care in his eyes, perhaps, but it had been so long since she had care at all. He had been careful around her, respectful without intruding, caring without cloying. He had given her free range and yet orders for no one to bother her so she could recover.
You recovery will be slow, but it will happen.
Could she really ever recover? Perhaps he had only meant physically, but mentally could she. Scars on the skin were easy to spot and treat, but it was the hidden scars that caused the most trouble. She was a skittish, frightened animal who only trusted one person right now, and it was a wary trust that; some part of her still expected him to burst in with Cloud on his heals.
... but she trusted him. It had to be a start.
Staring at one of the windows, Hizashiko watched the clouds move slowly, and then closed her eyes. Maybe she could stay here, and gain back some strength. Maybe... maybe after that, she could finally go home, and see her husband. And her daughter. And maybe even her neesan.
... it was a start.