Temporal Things

Sumire was only aware of the ceiling above her head. The small ceiling fan that had been installed in her apartment six years ago still managed to whirl around the her bedroom, making the hot summer heat of Konoha bearable. Sumire wondered why a ceiling fan and a heater had been installed in her apartment years ago: it been the year that she had tried to use Nue to destroy Konoha, and after her imprisonment had ended, the violet-haired girl had been stunned to find that not only had a much-needed heater and fan had been put inside, but the leaks that came inside the poor roofing when it rained were gone. Somehow Sumire had a suspicion that it was Shino-sensei that had paid for her adjustments to the apartment that she had lived in such the tender age of five. When Sumire, fresh with remorse and not understanding why Konoha did not banish her, had found out that her Academy sensei had repaired the damages in the place she lived, the six year old girl had fallen to her knees and wept.

To even this day, the violet-haired girl, who was now wearing the headband of the village that had scorned her and her family, and that she hated once with a darkness, didn't believe she truly deserved the fate that she had been given. Back then, when she had fought Mitsuki and Boruto had tried to stop her from destroying the bonds she had made, the façade of the dark hate Sumire had disappeared…but all that remained was emptiness.

Sumire was a fraud. She didn't deserve the friends that she had made. She didn't deserve the memories that were even more vivid and clear than the memories of her beloved mother. The child with dark violet eyes belonged to the same place as her father. It hadn't mattered to her then that she would drag down the monster with her. But then, Boruto-kun reminded her of the bond Nue had with her, willing to sacrifice his existence for her own, loving her as his parent. How could I throw him away when I saw how much he cared for me? Tears had fallen from Sumire's cheeks, hot and painful as she remembered the white-hot painful kicks to the stomach and grueling training sessions from her father. Shigaraki Tanuki hadn't asked his daughter if she wanted to become a shinobi. Nor did he ask her if she wanted to continue his curse of hatred against Konoha and nurture this creature said to be evil. He was a crazed man, caring nothing for a precious person he should have loved above all else.

Sumire didn't know how she felt the day her father died. Unlike with her mother, who had died from a prolonged illness and had died in excruciating pain, Sumire had simply awoken on the day of the Seventh Hokage's inauguration to find her father dead. He looked as frightening as he did when he was alive. But Sumire didn't feel relief. Instead, it seemed that upon death, her father's hatred had been passed down to her. Her father's body remained with her in the bed her mother had died in for two days. Because everyone in the village was celebrating the new era the Seventh Hokage was to bring, the entire village was shut down and celebrating for the entire day. For the second day, very few people were functional enough to do their jobs. Sumire's father had been buried away from the honorable graves of shinobi and kunoichi that had died in battle and the war. They didn't have enough money for a grave, so her father's body had simply been cremated and she had been given the ashes and the bones that had been left.

There had been no honorable burial for Shigaraki Tanuki. Sumire had ignored the pitying or staring looks of the shinobi three days after the inauguration of the Seventh Hokage at the young child carrying an urn that was much bigger than her. Sumire hadn't stopped to look up to see the sky. What was the point?

Whatever life, and the bittersweet goodness of the forgotten memories of her mother, was gone. Sumire, when reaching the small house that her family had shared, had almost dropped the urn that she was carrying at an unbidden memory. Her father had been more involved in his research since the illness of Sumire's mother, and became a demon of rage at the sight of Sumire's tears when she had no desire for training the day her mother died. The stale taste of blood in her mouth when he had slapped her was an echo of loneliness.

Sumire had simply put away the urn in the same worn cupboard that her mother's urn was in. It was such a small, lonely place. It was days before the child would enter the Academy. It didn't surprise her that the landlord came one day, and was disinterested in the hardships of a six year old orphan. Due to her parents' deaths, there was no income at all to pay for the rent. The Konoha orphanage was too far away. Sumire didn't know why the landlord that had scorned her mother and sneered at her hated father had told her about an apartment that was cheap in rent, and said under his breath that the Seventh Hokage would probably take away hard-earned money from hard-working people just so this snot-nosed brat could get fed.

The girl didn't know why such words didn't affect her. Perhaps it was because her father had often treated her only like a tool, her memories of her mother had faded, and that there was only nothing but revenge in her future. She had nothing.

She was nothing.

Sumire was now twelve years old. Her crimes had been forgiven. Boruto-kun…especially Boruto-kun, acknowledged her as a friend. "You showed me that I could become friends with everyone!" Sumire didn't trust herself to tell the truth to her new teammates, but they had accepted her. It moved Sumire more than she would admit. Become friends with everyone… she thought. The kunoichi knew that she didn't want to take the Chunin Exams. If she did, then there was a chance that she showed her true strength that she wouldn't see the comrades that she allowed herself to have.

She wanted to stay with everyone as long as wanted to. As long as Sumire had her friends, there was nothing else she needed in this world.

Unlike the majority of her friends, Sumire had seen the darkness of shinobi. The darkness was etched in the roots of the bright trees, in her own family, and until very recently, a part of herself. She did not want to experience darkness again. Until it was no longer possible, Sumire wanted to stay…by everyone's sides.

Especially… she thought about the person that she admired more than anyone else. His hair shaped like a leaf, soaking the sun so that everyone could have access to the light. Boruto-kun.