Edited by jiemae

Shadow of a Tiny Flame

In a momentary silence, scattered in the darkness, turned out to be countless words lost to the wind and without a destination.

promises to keep

"Back straight!" Hayami shouted, whacking at Miho's poor form and she had to hold back a loud yelp. Tears collected at the edges of her eyes, and though she had to suck in a shaky breath, Miho obeyed the orders she could follow. In the end, she gazed down at yet another heartbreaking failure. "That is not much better. How can even something like the seiza position be impossible to you?"

She couldn't speak up, in fear that the truth of the matter would spout out of her terribly loose lips. After all, she had been told by Mito, of all people, to keep her twisted ankle a secret. All because they wanted their parents kept in the dark about their time running around with the orphans. After the last time they'd snuck off, they'd been grounded for it and her sister feared that their father would grow suspicious and ban them from having any fun for the foreseeable future. She couldn't have that—her free time with her friends had been the only things keeping her sane.

Miho hadn't been faring so well since the departure of the main members of the Senju clan. Instead, she found herself missing them, her heart sore in a way that begged only questions but gave no answers.

Then again, Miho hadn't been expecting that her koto lessons would start that afternoon. She didn't know why she was surprised. As of late, it seemed her father was getting more insistent with her studies. One might have thought that it would be something to be happy about, to appreciate that her busy father still thought of her often. She tried to see it that way, but she just couldn't.

Instead, she knew what it actually meant; he'd given up on her learning how to fight. He'd given up on her ever having merit within the Uzumaki clan. It was never so clear as it was then. He wanted her to marry outside of the family like everyone was always saying. After all, he'd already exempted her from taijutsu classes. There was only so many ways he could spell it.

Just accept it, she told herself, don't make a big deal out of nothing!

She tried to have hope.

It was clear and obvious to see that he was actually primping her to be the wife of a lord, or maybe even one of those pretty girls at the houses with makeup caked upon their soft flesh. She didn't really know much about that sort of girl though.

Miho would have sabotaged the plan in a heartbeat, had it not been her love for music. In fact, it had even taken her by surprise. She'd always loved listening to her mother sing her to sleep, or the choruses of the festivals but she had never laid her eyes on anything so perfect.

Staring down at the strings of the wooden instrument, she had not expected the shivers or the rush of excitement that cascaded down her pale skin. Already in her head, the sounds of the plucked strings hummed in her head like a ghost from the past. It gave her a moment of thought, trying to think of the first time she'd ever heard music played.

It was as if the very voice of a god had spoken to her, telling her that this was the life she was destined to live.

It had to be why nothing else was working, this was fate.

Then her chest began to ache, having begun to grasp the identity of her savior from ineptitude. Music, no matter where it took her, would become her path in life.

Or so she had thought.

Quickly after what had been a life altering meeting, she had become acquainted with a woman even meaner than Chigusa—on a bad day. Hayami Takemura was what Miho had only dreamt of in nightmares. Somehow, she had both the look of a strict man and the regal bearing of a lady in the higher ranks. Her thin black eyebrows tilted up dangerously as she assessed the meek, quiet mouse-like Miho, and it was those cold ice blue eyes that struck the young eight-year-old with fear.

To add to it, Hayami carried a leather whip around like it was nothing, and did not hesitant when using it.

Her nerves were alight with anxiety and terror as she struggled to pay attention to the directives.

This had become her existence in the short fifteen minutes since her life had altered so drastically.

"Is that all your will amounts to?" Hayami asked, piercing through Miho's thoughts when she realized her back had sagged without her realizing.

She nibbled delicately on her bottom lip before sucking on it and, determined, shook her head. Even so, the tears dribbled down her chin, and she resisted the urge to wipe them away with the sleeve of her furisode. Instead, she huffed out a breath from her nose and corrected her face the best way she could, with it still being covered in salty tears.

She had to become stronger, if she were to become worthy of what destiny she could see in front of her.

Miho would have only to fight against the pain and follow instructions. She knew she could do it; she had to do it.

She sucked in a breath and looked to Hayami for more information as her teacher scowled down at her with something akin to disgust. But she couldn't look away, as all she could do to protect her future was watch her newest challenge look kunai into her tiny form.

Miho would later question how she was able to accomplish that on her own. But she supposed she was just merely sick and tired of being weak all the time.

It was time to impress Mito for a change.

"I suppose that position is acceptable for now, but I do want you to sit only in that form from this moment on until I tell you otherwise."

"Yes, sensei!"

"Now," Hayami began, procuring a pouch of something beneath her ocean blue obi, "it's time to find the tsume that fits for your tiny fingers. Give me your hand and tell me if the squeeze is too painful, or if it's too loose. I'll get a more properly sized set for our next lesson, once I've measured for the length and size."

"Yes, sensei," Miho responded, eyes setting on smooth looking objects that fell with clinks from the bag. On closer inspection, she found that they looked to be made of ivory, and had been smoothed, buffered, and shaved so well into squared, cubic forms that it was nearly as beautiful to Miho as the koto itself.

"You will wear three of these; one for the thumb and two for the first two fingers. The left edge of this," Hayami directed, pointing with her sharply pristine forefinger, "is what you will be using to pluck with the thumb. The right edge will be used for the other tsume. Understood?"

Miho instantly caught on, nodding in quick fascination to the contents of the lesson.

"Good, there may yet still be hope for you, student." Hayami released a tentative grunted of approval before snatching Miho's hand. She wasted no time in beginning the fitting for the tsume. Nonchalant, she murmured, "The best way to sit is the seiza position, as it allows the forty-five degree angle that is optimal for creating the best sound possible with the koto instrument. Now, this is an actual universal, undebatable law, my dear child, as no student of mine will do anything but their best. I can guarantee that to you."

"Yes, sensei," came her soft response as she watched her teacher stuff and snatch away the ivory pieces before finding the one that fit her slim fingers best.

"A size one…not surprised, considering how petite you are." Hayami frowned, "Bigger hands would have been better, but these should do." The older woman squinted at her as if it were all her own fault that she didn't turn out to be bigger in size. Dryly, she continued, "Be sure to drink your milk."

"Yes, sensei."

"Next, I'll teach you how to tune…"

promises to keep

"I'll punch her for you, if ya want me to," Mito suggested in all seriousness as she patted the wet cloth that laid over her twin sister's eyes.

"No, it's fine, 'ttekisa. I'll be fine, 'ttekisa."

"I don't know what fine means in your book, but it sounds to me like it's a wrong definition."

Miho sighed, tugging the wet cloth down from her puffy eyes as she gave Mito a look. They stared at each other then and left their argument to thought.

She didn't know why, but they did this a lot; gazing at each other, wordless, yet still communicating something somehow.

Mito huffed out a breath from her nose, tilting her chin up as she became annoyed with what Miho was implying.

"I know you want me to back off now that you have this new dream or something, but you can't just drop that on me so quickly and expect me to back off. I have thoughts and feelings of my own, 'ttebasa!" The redhead brought herself up from her stomach to kneel as she loomed with her shadow over Miho, "Tou-san is taking you away from me with all these lessons, so I haven't been able to do it lately but it's my job! My job, 'ttebasa! I need to protect you, dummy!"

"Oh."

She had no idea whether to be flattered that Mito loved her so much, or annoyed with the fact that she thought of her as such a weak thing. The truth was a hard thing to accept, in most cases. Unable to decide, she decided to let it go altogether.

In the end, Miho somehow found herself laughing.

Mito sat back, arms coming to cross over her chest as she regarded her twin sister with eyes that looked to be as sharp as shuriken, "What're you laughing at?"

"I don't know, but I'm starting to get hungry, so can we talk about this later and go see how long dinner is going to be?"

Mito grinned at the suggestion, "Of course! Food always comes first, even above you."

Miho rolled her eyes in response as she set her cloth away into the water basin beside her futon. Afterwards, she took to standing up. Thankfully, she had to hiss only slightly when applying pressure to her ankle. Strengthened by a revived mood, she set off towards the door.

Usually, she found it was easier to handle pain when thinking of something else.

Food, of course, begged for the attention.

"Hey," Mito said, coming to a full stop right before they entered into the dining quarters. She turned to stare at Miho with heated fervor, "I heard that Izumi-san's dog gave birth, so why don't we head over there after dinner? Should still be light out by then, I think."

"Okay," she agreed, a flush finding its way to her cheeks as she imagined playing with the cute baby pups and its mama. Although, that probably wouldn't happen for a few more weeks. Last time she had been around for the birth of dogs, it had taken nearly an entire two months for her to be able to even go close enough to hold them. She hoped it wouldn't take so long this time.

"Awesome! Let's eat quickly, 'ttebasa!" Mito jumped in the air as she slid the door open and hopped into the room.

Lucky for them, a simple meal had already been laid out on the dinner table.

Their parents had already beaten them there, along with whoever they had invited to join them. It was usually like this on the short days before their father left to lead the clan into clashes with whoever they were fighting with that week. Situations changed so often, Miho didn't even make a point to try and remember the details.

Not that she would ever be asked about it anyway.

Her father often complained about how the system worked, but she still didn't understand it very well. As simple as she could explain it; people wanted the missions that rich people wanted done and there was a competition for whoever would get the payment first. At least that was how she thought it worked.

She could very well be wrong.

There was more to it than that, of course. Like, if a clan had a hereditary advantage—or if the clan had a special social standing—it would be the difference between life and death. The lower clans, Miho had learned, often went into hiding or died out, due to the bigger families slaughtering them or just by the mere effect of being poor and starving.

Miho couldn't say for sure, but she was pretty sure that the Uzumaki clan was one of the strongest around—but that could've also be the sense of pride that floated around their island like an illness.

She did know that factually, the Senju clan was one of the top clans—next to the Uchiha, of course. Her father liked talk about it, about how his new best friend was a leader that could even convince him to follow. Which was an impressive feat if her mother's talks about his teenage years was anything to take into consideration.

"Have a seat, dears," their mother told them, waving at the free spots on the left of the already crowded table. It took Miho a second to realize who they were to be entertaining that night; convoys for the Daimyos and three of them at that. They must have been there for seals.

Adjusting her obi and raking her hair back behind her ear, she kept her gaze low before bowing and passing the threshold of the room. Mito reluctantly went along with her actions and seconds later, they found themselves sitting thigh to thigh at the table.

Unconsciously, she settled herself into the oh so painful seiza position, very nearly forgetting the fact that her ankle had swollen up. It was a bitter reminder but she did her best to bear it without expression. The most she allowed herself was a tiny grunt of pain and it escaped past her lips without her control. Miho shook herself from it and instead faced her father, who watched her closely.

He didn't seem to notice it.

He nodded towards her, looking proud of them before he boomed out cheerfully, "Now that my beautiful girls have appeared, let's enjoy this great food. No sense in waiting for the miso to freeze."

The convoys chuckled amongst themselves readily as they all echoed the usual words spoken before eating, before they snapped their wooden chopsticks apart.

Miho mirrored them, picking apart her grilled fish and kept silent as she waited for the dinner conversation to pick up.

"How did your koto lessons go?" Miyoko, their mother asked, smiling at any prospective news. How she hadn't ever doubted Miho was a marvel of sorts, but then again she was also fairly vacant in the head—a usual trait for the bearer of seals on the skin. Sometimes people took too much upon themselves, all for the preservation of the Uzumaki fuinjutsu, and her mother was of no exception.

"They went okay," Miho replied with, eager to please.

"I see that your posture has improved," her mother gushed, eyeing the way her every limb was kept. "Have you started practicing any songs yet?"

"Yes, but I'm still really new to it. Remembering the thirteen strings and their sounds is only the first step, after all. Takemura-sensei says that I'll need to get better at multitasking, and that I need to drink more milk."

In response, her father beamed with pride, "See, I just knew that you would do well with this. You're always singing, my sweet flower."

Miho blushed and soared inwardly at the unusually high praise she was receiving. She really hadn't been expecting it to happen—a sharp contrast in comparison to the gazes of disappointment that lingered around her every action. It sure was a nice change of pace.

"Train up well, okay, dear? Soon you will be a great help to our clan, I'm sure," her mother murmured.

She wasn't exactly sure how that would work out—playing music wasn't exactly the greatest importance in terms of training to become a ninja. Either way, she was just appeased with the words they had already given her.

"Oh, before I forget, you're starting fuinjutsu classes tomorrow, okay, girls?" their dad informed them, inciting a cry of excitement from Mito and a look of raw concern from Miho.

She prayed that she would do well, clenching her fingers into fists to calm the sudden butterflies that appeared in her stomach.

The dinner went on pleasantly from there, the convoys speaking up every now and then about the taste of the food, words being said that would be sure to put a glow on Orino's face if she had heard.

The end of the dinner hour couldn't come fast enough, excited at the prospect of getting to see the puppies.

As soon as they were allowed out of sight—their father excusing them so that he would be able to discuss business—they darted out of the front entrance and ran down the stone path to get to the outermost part of the village, quick in the search of Izumi's house.

It was easy to find after all the times they had been there in the past for miscellaneous things, the home being a larger one in comparison to the smaller, outlying abodes. It was even in a more privatized section of the island, the one that had been nary touched by a hand other than the clearing of a few trees here and there. Although, they didn't play there very often—Izumi joined them at the orphanage more often than not—and for it, she knew very little else about the place other than the location.

Slowly nearing the place of her thoughts, it was as if the very thought of her friend summoned her, the slight, waifish girl standing at the front of the house, hopping down the stepping stones one at time before taking note of the twins upright in her path.

"Yo," Mito greeted carelessly, grinning, "how are the puppies? Anything we can do?"

Izumi titled her heart shaped face before bobbing her head, "Sure, 'ttekari! There's still tons to do, like Kaa-san told me. But first, I'm heading out to the markets to the find more blankets. Wanna come with, 'ttekari?"

Miho wasn't so sure, eyeing the long, deserted road that lead into the main part of the village. There were a lot of trees in their way after all, and that meant danger. Besides, walking any further would just irritate her ankle more.

But before she could say anything, Mito chimed in with a cheerful, "We'd love to, 'ttebasa!"

She bit back a sigh as the three went back down the slope before jarring off to the east in their quest for blankets. They had to be careful though, with the way it was getting dark. It'd be easy to fall down the sloping cliff in that lack of lighting and who knew what kind of animals were out there?

Miho was stressed the entire time, feeling as if she were walking on pins and needles while at the same time battling against the pain in her ankle.

She honestly had no intentions to make her situation any worse but she should have known something awful would happen.

It honestly hadn't been her fault, at least not when it happened. To be clear, it was actually very easily just pinned on Mito for liability of the incident. She was, after all, the person who stumbled first, before shoving Miho down the hill in an attempt to reign in her balance.

Too fast, she tipped over and though she flailed for something to grab onto, she hit dirt.

Rolling through bramble, greenery, and anything else nature had to offer, Miho crashed down quickly through the hill. Nicking herself on nearly every piece of rock that found her, she marveled in her dizzying daze of disorientation about the irony of Mito's earlier words about being a protector.

Seemed more like she was trying to get her killed.

The end came quickly after as she slammed right into a tree, knocking her head against it before she stumbled in trying to understand what had just occurred. Her vision turned hazy as she struggled to kneel in place, her entire body throbbing in pain—agony.

"No, please," she heard herself whisper as she gave up on moving and instead collapsed to the ground, panting while struggling to regain her breath. "C-can't…breathe…"

It took several minutes that felt like hours to regain any sense of motion in her body but the most she could do was shift onto her stomach and look around where she laid.

It was enough.

In the time it took for her vision to clear up enough to see it, she was frozen—both in shock and confusion.

Right there, before her very eyes, stood a fox with hair as fiercely colored as her very own.

Miho turned silent, holding in her breath so much that her lungs began to burn.

There was just something commanding about the fox's presence, and the ethereal quality of the mild lighting mingling with the sun-kissed fur left Miho near immovable. She blinked furiously when she noted the way it watched her back before tipping its head back, almost like it was laughing.

At a lost for word or reason, she found herself unconsciously moving closer to the wild beast. She wasn't sure why but compelled to, she reached out—a loud, trilling yelp sounded somewhere above her and then something—or someone crashed into her.

"Ah! I found ya!" It was Mito's unmistakable voice and Miho watched, with disappointment heavy in her gaze, as the fox quickly hopped out of sight.

Seeing such a beautiful creature leave before she even had the chance to look at it properly, paired with the blazing pain that covered her toe to the tip of her scalp, left her a state of disheveled misery. She was past thinking as exhaustion set in.

She began to heave out sobs instead.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, 'ttebasa! Dattebasa, I'm sorry!" Mito cried out, assuredly panicked. "I'll get you home, okay, 'ttebasa? I'm sorry, dattebasa!"

promises to keep

"Huh."

"W-What?" Miho's delicate head bobbed up, slightly alarmed and disgruntled alike as she turned to gaze up at her new teacher. It hurt to move, as it had turned out that she'd dislocated her right arm, broken her left pinky-toe somehow, and had sprained both of her ankles. As such, she was sorely behind in her studies as most of her teachers had taken one look at her before sending her back home. Not very many of them cared to be around the sopping mess she would become once the pain became too much to bear.

But her newest teacher had been different; he'd even offered to dress her wounds before they carried on with instructions.

"I was told, quite honestly, that you might be the worst at this," the man said, eyeing her carefully.

She swallowed and looked down at the seal work she had just managed to do, and noted how soft it looked compared to the example piece she had learned from. The lines were too delicate, and the curves lackluster in comparison. Kiyoshi, her teacher, surely noted all this and was just as disappointed in her that she had come to expect.

"For a first timer," he began, his gaze on her heavy in weight as he squinted at her face, "you are shaping up to be quite the sealer. I haven't seen such talent in a long while, Miho-chan. Be sure to nurture it."

His parting words were simple as he stood up from his crouch, turning his back to the girl whose face reddened in both shock and joy. Miho tried to call out, in order to properly thank him, but her throat constricted with heavy emotions and she bowed her face behind her long sleeves in fear of being found out.

Tears quickly found their way in coating the lashes of her eyes and she blinked the blinding wetness away.

It was right at that very second that she overheard someone yelping in pain. She quickly turned to look and was nearly blindsided by the vision of Genta cramming his hands—folded in the tora sign—right up Yuusei's rear end.

Her eyes widened, her jaw going slack.

"Don't talk about her like that!" Genta cried out, face red with anger before he burst out into snickers at the realization of his actions. The others around him reacted similarly while looking on.

Kiyoshi released a long drawn out sigh, "Boy, what did I tell ya 'bout that? No more ass-pokin'!"

"But he was saying mean things!" the redheaded child readily defended himself.

Their shared teacher gave him another long drawn out sigh, matched with an unrelenting stare, "And what about?"

Genta jumped in surprise at the sudden question, eyes sliding to look over at Miho before looking to his feet, "Nothin', Sensei."

Miho promptly blinked, brows furrowing as her thoughts formed a conclusion. For whatever reason, she could see that Yuusei had been talking bad about her again, and that Genta was only trying to stick up for her. On the other hand, she had no clue why he would be withholding such information if it were truthful.

Did he wish to spare her ill feelings?

Her heart warmed at the thought and she turned her head away from the scene in front of her as she looked back down at her seal work.

She smiled.

promises to keep

"How dare you touch Yuusei when you're only an orphan!?" Kyuu demanded to know, outraged by what Genta had done.

Yama stepped forward, scowling with a hand placed roughly to her hip, "What gives you the right to talk to my boy that way, huh!?"

Mito growled besides her in agreement, glaring daggers at the side of village kids on Yuusei's side of the argument.

"What's it to you two?" Yuusei grumbled out. "Let us at him! He's only getting what he deserves, after all. I was only speaking the truth when I said that Miho was useless."

Her eyes twitched, but she looked to Genta, whose eyes widened in meeting her gaze before he looked nervously away. Her suspicions had been confirmed and it left Miho bewildered more than she thought she'd be. Worse was the seconds passing in tense silence and her thoughts, memories, the voices that echoed from the past.

She'd heard all of it already and knew the truth of it.

Through her head ran what felt like millions of insults that had been tossed about around her like slaps to the face or wrist. The idea of all the people in her life that had defended her against the truth of what those vile words had been, left her feeling hollow.

Instead of learning from them, instead of changing like she had promised Hashirama, she had been hiding only behind excuses and the support group that had somehow stuck around throughout the years. Instead of feeling grateful, she felt ashamed and instead of feeling mere anger, she felt in her being the fury of having been wronged and having wronged someone else.

What a pathetic person she had grown to be!

Lazy, useless, and waste of air, Miho wasn't the person she had envisioned herself becoming.

She was tired, in pain, and flustered beyond belief as she watched her friends and sister battle with the other kids in the village.

She was the cause of this.

In her body was a soul tired beyond belief of all the violence, all of the tears, and all of the stress.

She'd had enough.

It was time to change before something bad happened—for good.

In her eyesight, she watched as Yuusei lunged at Genta, but before anything could befall her benefactor, Miho launched herself at her cousin.

Grappling for control, she ignored all other pain in her body as she bit him violently in god only knows where. The metallic smell of blood filled the air and the taste of it coated her tongue as she released a high pitched shriek in absolute fury at the sort of person that had made her violent.

It was only after the damage was done that it sank in; the recognition that she was no better than him.

Miho tried not to cry, releasing her hold on him as she looked down on the boy who had been her tormentor since a very small age. She felt only regret and sadness for what she had done. Miho shouldn't have blamed it on him—her misdemeanors.

She just didn't want it, the ability to be an angry person. She wanted it out of her.

It was so very exhausting and it was in acknowledging that and the self hate that she felt the final nail in the coffin to her hopes of a shinobi finally sink in. Miho simply couldn't do it, unlike what her family wanted of her. She could not become the violent, and blood seeking ninja she had thought she was meant to be.

Truth had a face and it was two-sided, like all others.

Exhausted, she sighed, and fought off the grimace at tasting the blood still in her mouth. The only relief was when her vision cleared of haziness and she was able to see much better. For the first time in a long while, she saw with a crystal clear gaze.

"I'm sorry," she said softly and meant it with all of her soul.

Yuusei looked like a mess, and it was then that she felt dawning comprehension of what she was actually seeing. It was a heavy moment to realize she was stronger than she had originally thought, as she looked closely at the deep, still bleeding lacerations on the meatier part of his forearm. Tears sprang up in his eyes before he released a violent sob, his chest heaving beneath her legs.

Miho panicked, "I'm sorry, 'ttekisa! I'll take you to the healers, 'ttekisa!"

"Woah," someone exhaled behind her and she looked to see Yama grinning. Nodding at her approvingly, the older girl gave an affirming sigh, "That settles it. You'll be the oni in the game of Kagome, Kagome from now on. Everyone will be scared of you for weeks!"

She was helpless as the others around her began to laugh.

But then…that was only just the start.

promises to keep – end

So this chapter still needs to go through another round of edits, for fair warning! Enbi has been focusing a lot of her time on finishing something really special (be excited) and hasn't had much time to get around to helping edit this. Enbi is far better at noticing my mistakes than I am, but the edits should be coming soon and updating will go back to proceeding as normally.

Song for this chapter; Gentou Yuukaku by Seifuumeigetsu

(the voice is actually how I picture Miho's singing to be like)

References Explained:

Seiza Position – formal way of sitting, sitting with buttocks on the back of the heels that sit in a 'v' shape.

Tsume – the picks the play/strum a koto, this translates into nail. There are two types of tsume; ikuta and yamada. I went with the former, in this case, as it's the most traditional form of tsume.

Furisode – is a style of kimono that is easily distinguishable by its long sleeves, which range in length from 85 cm (33.4 in) for a kofurisode (小振袖/little swinging sleeves) to 114 cm (44.9 in) for an ōfurisode (大振袖/big swinging sleeves).

Hakama – cloth that is tied at the waist and falls approximately to the ankles, typically worn over a kimono. Two types; divided (umanori) and undivided (andon bakama).

Kagome, Kagome – a Japanese children's game that is popular in horror stories and creepypasta. In the game, one player is chosen as the oni and sits with their eyes covered. The other children join hands and walk in circles around the oni while chanting the song for the game. When the song stops, the oni tries to name the person standing directly behind them. There's a lot of meaning in the name of the game itself, such as "bird in the cage" or "circle you".