Post by Hiko on Sept 3, 2011 16:24:18 GMT -5
((I figured I'd work on backstory to get me back into the mindset of the characters [and writing in general]. Inailicious, if you want to write a bit with Reisui, feel free to throw 'im in here whenever. Otherwise, I'll probably just keep doing oneshot posts spanning the years between the other backstory and current time.))
Death was slow and wet.
Or was it?
Though she'd expected the needles of her sister's assault to destroy her in completion, she remained alive.
As streams of thin, watery blood drifter up to the surface, Kotone watched with a blank expression. Takako waited above, watching for air to bubble up at her feet. Kotone wouldn't give her sister that. No, better to feign death. She stilled her lungs' burning cry for air, focusing the last reserves of her chakra to support her time underwater.
Eventually, Takako left.
Kotone, throat on fire, swam to the shore with blood still trailing behind. Once on damp ground, Kotone coughed and sputtered. Her mouth tasted of copper and salt, and she doubted the flavor would ever leave. Back laid out against muddy earth, her breathing labored. Had she spent too long beneath the surface of the water, surviving the swim only to die of exhaustion on solid ground? No, she wouldn't die. She couldn't – not if she was to take her daughter back. Better – she would take the compound. All would know of Takako's betrayal of her, her theft, her lies! Kotone gagged on her own bile and spat. The spittle landed on her thigh, but the woman didn't even have the energy to grunt dissatisfaction.
Over the course of the remainder of the day and the night that followed suit, Kotone breathed. Breathing was the first step to not dying, though every breath reminded her of the cuts and pierces the needles had given her hours before. The water had cleansed, but she would be left with scarring – assuming she didn't just bleed out the rest of her life onto the soil.
Breathe.
Breathe deep.
Breathe, and don't give up.
Her mantra kept her strong despite the pain, but it was her rage that would keep her alive.
War was on the horizon, she knew that much from the village talk. If war was coming, she would have a hand in it.
But first, she'd have to get up.
Death was slow and wet.
Or was it?
Though she'd expected the needles of her sister's assault to destroy her in completion, she remained alive.
As streams of thin, watery blood drifter up to the surface, Kotone watched with a blank expression. Takako waited above, watching for air to bubble up at her feet. Kotone wouldn't give her sister that. No, better to feign death. She stilled her lungs' burning cry for air, focusing the last reserves of her chakra to support her time underwater.
Eventually, Takako left.
Kotone, throat on fire, swam to the shore with blood still trailing behind. Once on damp ground, Kotone coughed and sputtered. Her mouth tasted of copper and salt, and she doubted the flavor would ever leave. Back laid out against muddy earth, her breathing labored. Had she spent too long beneath the surface of the water, surviving the swim only to die of exhaustion on solid ground? No, she wouldn't die. She couldn't – not if she was to take her daughter back. Better – she would take the compound. All would know of Takako's betrayal of her, her theft, her lies! Kotone gagged on her own bile and spat. The spittle landed on her thigh, but the woman didn't even have the energy to grunt dissatisfaction.
Over the course of the remainder of the day and the night that followed suit, Kotone breathed. Breathing was the first step to not dying, though every breath reminded her of the cuts and pierces the needles had given her hours before. The water had cleansed, but she would be left with scarring – assuming she didn't just bleed out the rest of her life onto the soil.
Breathe.
Breathe deep.
Breathe, and don't give up.
Her mantra kept her strong despite the pain, but it was her rage that would keep her alive.
War was on the horizon, she knew that much from the village talk. If war was coming, she would have a hand in it.
But first, she'd have to get up.