Private Bury the Past

[Kagami Miro]

“Decisions, decisions, decisions....”

Countless thoughts plagued her mind day in and day out. Thoughts of recovering her past or abandoning who she truly was kept Mirō on the brink of insanity constantly. Slowly eroding the floorboards beneath her feet as she paced back and forth a coiled index finger rested underneath her lips. If Mirō were to truly abandon her past what would become of her present and future self? Would the kiln in her heart still bellow like a wild fire or fizzle out like a campfire on a rainy day? Will the trauma disappear if she were to repress the memory of her parents all together? Angrily her teeth grinded together, her fist balled into a tight fist. Breathing in and slowly exhaling Mirō gained control of her emotions.

“No. I-I.. I won’t ever forget them.”

Gold hues regained their focus, her body turned to look at the young girl in the mirror who had pulled through even the worst of trauma. Long elegant black tresses rested on her shoulders, golden hues that were crafted by sweet honey bees and a smile that eased the weight of the world. The only imperfection she was truly ashamed of… was the vast scar that covered her face. Eyes traced that ugly mark, emotions beginning to swell and dissipate over and over. Mulling over the idea one final time a defeated sigh escaped her lips. Mirō would never forgive herself if she abandoned her parents.

“They’d want me to live on in their memories. I’ll do just that.”

Forcing herself away from the toxic gaze of self-hatred in the mirror marked hands clutched a small backpack of supplies. Strapping it to her back silent footstep found themselves perched on her window sill. Looking back at the soon-to-be vacant academy room Mirō looked back towards the dimly lit dawn sky. Mind set on venturing to the outer plains of Kumogakure towards the Rolling Hills, in hopes to trace back to the remnants of her old home.

-To Be Continued
[WC:334]

 

[Kagami Miro]

The mountains were no place for the weak willed. Steep inclines with brush thick enough to pick away at your clothing. Rocky uneven land riddled the pathways, ‘How would a wagon even traverse through here…’ Stepping over potholes and more uneven terrain the land seemed overrun with grasses and weeds. The difficulty in scaling it may have deterred common folk and merchants from passing through. Black tresses swayed side to side, disagreeing with her own thoughts.‘When there’s a will, there’s a way.' Thinking back on all the rare items and veteran merchants in Cronopolis that would’ve had made their way up and down these rolling plains time and time again for easy pickings of lost artifacts.

Continuing on her journey through the Rolling Hills, the weight of the world lingered overhead. Propping itself haphazardly on her shoulders Mirō felt the butterflies of anxiety flutter in her stomach. In through her nose and out through her mouth deep breaths eased her worried mind. It had been many years since her parents murder from those loathsome bandits. She could recall every last detail. From the haunting screams to the terrifying sight of blood splattering on the walls and painting her own face. A gloved hand curled into a tight fist, shaking with anger. How come her childhood was stolen from her at such an impressionable age. Families that smiled and laughed until their final gentle passing in the stories Mirō had read that line the shelves of the library. Academy students who willingly came to the academy with their family left behind all healthy and well. It made her sick to her stomach. Branded with that scar on her face and whip lashings across her body. “It gives me conniptions…” Growling at her thoughts Mirō shook her head side to side as if to shake off treacherous thinking. Footsteps quickened, wanting to get to her destination in a timely manner. Maybe then her mind would be at ease. Pulling her black hood over her head Mirō cleared her mind to focus on breathing. Rainfall had begun, soaking her cloak it remained durable and together while traversing through thick brush. The sound of rainfall faded out the easily distinguishable sound of the river. It was the ticket to finding her old home within the hills. Refusing to give up Mirō focused chakra to the soles of her feet. Scaling a tall tree she began a mad dash through the treetops. There weren’t many branches to bound in the Rolling Hills however it wouldn’t be long until Mirō entered into the heavier forest. At the left of a giant boulder a few kilometers down it would take another chunk of time to make it to her old home. She had hoped. The memories of where she used to live were faint. Remembering the large boulder that protruded out of the ground had a tiny yellow painted flower on it. Something she herself had drawn when she walked through the forest with her mother. It was a matter of time before the darkened remnants of her life were uncovered once more.

-To Be Continuted
WC: 516

 

[Kagami Miro]

The ruffling of leaves echoed throughout the Rolling Hills. Vegetation engulfed the wide spread area, noticing that her most recent path she had taken had grown fuller by the leap. Gravel roads used to travel towards the mainland and small villages had overgrown with weeds and branches. Signs of human life had vanished years ago. Was her family the only ones to venture this far out from civilization? Why such seclusion? An irritated look glazed over her naturally soft features. Something ominous tugged at the back of her mind. Anxiety festered within her heart refraining from delving deeper into negative thinking. Gliding from tree top to the next the trees slowly began to spread out into a small clearing Mirō had been looking for. Like the gravel pathways she saw the very tiny complex had been shrouded with heavy foliage. Many years truly had not gone by since she was sent into slavery. The vegetation still revealed itself to entangle the broken cottage in vines. Staying alert the surrounding area was at ease. Allowing the safe entrance of sandals landing upon grass before her old home.

The stillness of her broken home paralyzed Mirō where she stood. Old memories flooded back into her mind. Watching herself enter her home with her father. The times of cheerful merriment with her mother. The horrendous screams of terror. Shackled and escorted out of her own home after her parents death. Mirō let her head fall dejectedly. Pained eyes gazed over at the entangled hobble haunted by her recurring thoughts the sound of brush rustling caught her attention. Lightning instincts reflexively released a kunai in the direction. A hush fell over momentarily before a lone rabbit hopped out from the bush. With fur shaved off its head the rabbit scurried away with haste. Stress built on her shoulders forcing her to be paranoid of the empty forests surrounding her. Controlling her emotions through conviction and determination Mirō readjusted herself.

Steadily Mirō moved closer towards the broken brown door to her home. Hands pressed against the cold wood of the door. Creeeeeeak… THUD! The door collapsed off its hinges to crash onto the floor. Sunlight, though faint, fought back the shadows the hid the mysteries inside her home. The second floor had collapsed and took the stairs with it. Leaving the dining room and bed room open. Disturbing to her, the living area was clean of any kind of incident that occurred. A table lay on its side. Riddled with holes it was used as cover from projectiles. Investigating further her heart began to thud loudly. Creeping over towards the bedroom Mirō couldn’t believe her eyes.

The room Mirō entered had been torn asunder. Obvious signs of a struggle and fighting were displayed throughout the room. The bed had been destroyed, old blood stains tainted the tattered cloth blinds. A dresser had been shredded and clawed at and alongside the mirror had broken above it. A lump formed in the back of her throat. Cautiously she peered over towards a larger bloodstain in the corner of the room. Horrific flashbacks cursed her mind yet Mirō saw something bewildering. Mirō could swear up and down that this had been the murder scene. One thing truly stood out. No remains. “What the… then where?” Confusion was her arch nemesis. There were no signs of bodies anywhere. Her world began to cycle back into her investigative state of mind. Taken at the age of five and in slavery till she was ten till now… “My Mother and Father’s bones couldn’t have disappeared that quickly… Could they?” With no real extensive knowledge in the medical arts Mirō had been stumped. Raising a finger to her chin each different thought began to boil her blood. “Tch.” Sucking her teeth a kunai bolted into the center of the mirror on the desk. Shattering it to nothing deadly red eyes caught a glimpse of chakra barely radiating out from a crevasse on the side of the mirror. Tucked away was an origami rose that had a faint glint of chakra around it.

Slowly Mirō approached the rose piece, cupping it within her hands. “Who… left this?” Her breathing had stopped while stress balled up in her gut. Studying the piece Mirō folded it neatly so it could present itself in her palm. Focusing her own masterful technique into the paper it began to unfold. Opening the piece to her surprise was japanese kanji for ‘Release’ (放) scribed onto it. “A-a seal?” Bewilderment rolled over her mind. ‘What could a pressed origami rose that actually a seal be doing behind the mirror?’ Uneasy about her situation her gut decided for her. “Kai!” Mirō growled. Her head twitched to her left, noticing the wall next to the bed began to fade to dust. The seal faded from the paper leaving her to her own devices. Mirō swallowed her fear and pressed forward into the secret room.

Within the confined space laid a wooden chest with a dusty brass lock on it. The room was the size of a small closet and the chest laid snug up against all three walls. The lock stood no chance against her might. Crushing the lock itself with her gravity jutsu it eroded into nothing, allowing the dusty chest to slowly creep open. Pushing the top aside crimson hues gazed down at a multitude of scrolls. Some crumbled and dusty, others in pristine condition and a variety of colors. A scroll with her last name on it caught her eye. Gripping the scroll Mirō unraveled it to reveal a passage of text. ‘The History of the Kagami Clan’, reading further Mirō learned that her mastery in paper ninjutsu and projectile accuracy wasn’t solely based on hard work. Reading that her clan possessed the ability of Fūinjutsu and Shurikenjutsu techniques. Unfortunately the clan began to fade from existence over time, alongside the techniques they had learned. Up until this moment. Within her hands and inside the chest was her families past and jutsu.Branding her as the new heir to sealing and shuriken techniques deep down Mirō knew how powerful they had been. Sealing away animated objects, spirits even demons the Kagami spirit knew no boundaries when it came to efficient sealing techniques. Topped with mastery of paper ninjutsu even Mirō herself could opt to become a master in her clans ancient art.

Stumbling upon this find was strange but it did not fill the empty pit in her chest. Gritting her teeth in anger Mirō gathered as many scrolls as she could. Storing them in her backpack and extra pouches a moment of respite cast over her. A heavy question pressed against the back of her mind, “Who sealed the chest here…” Creeping over the thoughts that her parents could still be alive and hidden. Did they actually send her away? Has her past been a lie this entire time? Digging through the chest hands touched on a foreign object outside of the usual scroll. Picking it out the object revealed to be another dusty old heirloom… or was it? Further inspection saw that it was a broken pendant. The string loosely held the broken red pendant together. Making out an odd shape the pendant had what looked like a sculpted insignia towards the top. Broken at the bottom the pendant faintly radiated chakra. Befuddled, Mirō stashed the odd ornament into her pouch. Stepping out of the secret room Mirō weaved a set of complex hand seals. Firmly she placed her palms on the ground in front of the room. Earth rose from the floor and sealed the doorway, mimicking the surrounding stone walls. She would have to come back at a later time to get the rest of her family heirlooms. Rubbing her temples Mirō slowly left her old home. This confusing experience began to drill a hole in her brain.

The soft ambience of the forests whispers filled her with ease. Red hues glanced into the forest in front of her. Tossing a dangerous look behind her shoulder a heavy sigh escaped her chest. Dropping her shoulders and her head the events from her home plagued her. The mass of scrolls, the broken pendant, missing bodies… All factors the young teen had to take in to account. “Maybe… Kitsune could decipher the pendant at least…” Letting a hand rest on the pendant within the pouch it was up to her to decide whether or not to vocalize her findings. “Especially these sealing scrolls…” Sucking her teeth Mirō dreaded having to return back to the library to do more digging. Gold hues darted over her right shoulder. The lingering presence of eyes on her back made its appearance again. ‘Just like when I awakened my sharingan.’ The ominous feels faded away slowly. Questioning if a wild beast had caught her scent or if… ‘I doubt it.’ With her pockets full and her head throbbing it was a true sign to venture back to the village. Agitating the gravel Mirō hastily made her way back to Kumogakure. Only time would tell about the mysteries of the Kagami Clan and the wicked pendant.

[WC: 1522
Total WC: 2375
Topic Left]