Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Status: Incomplete.

Summary: "Why is it so dark in here?" She frowned. "If you are dying - don't you want to die in the open air? Beneath the stars and the light and everything good in the world?" [Feudal-Era SI/OC]

The night was a time of men.

This had been drilled into her like the stomping of grapes to make a fine, deliciously, bitter wine. The time of night was for men, of men, only men. But still, Hitomi walked. She marched and strode and swung her hips to and fro, her mouth resolute, her eyes burning, the fire in her breast spurring her forward.

(She could not be afraid. Not now - not when Hatsue hung there, in the silent gold heaven that smelled of sulfur, sickly-sweet rot and trickery - no…not now…and…perhaps maybe ever. )

She did not, could not, look at the village-men that graced her lithe form with their peering, curious eyes. She did not look, for she knew if she did, she might crumble, stumbling like a frail little fearful thing that could not be trusted to hold up its own legs. The tail of the cat still itched on her cheek, its foul breath still alight in the air, her dreams hauntingly present. Her feet ached, having lost the sandals she'd slipped on, and for once, she was wholly aware that she was bare-footed, with frozen toes, and bleeding heels. Rocks edged themselves into her skin, skittering cuts and bruises into her pace, and an out pour of whimpers and grunts from her lips. Her fingernails dug deep half-crescent moons into her palms, and the slick sweat under her arms made her heart beat only faster.

The night was vivid - and not hers. Vivid, terrible, and reminding her that she was not to be there; apart, separate, kept away, like a shameful existence to be admired in the sobering light of day, or to be ripped to pieces in the shadows of the moon. Her every breath, her every step, the very stirrings of her heart were there, brilliantly, clearly, there. And for a moment, she was fearful. Vividly fearful…for she had never been so aware of herself in this life than in this very moment; her inconspicuous machinations…the rolling mass of tangled hair, a fluttering wave of flowering chaos, the golden-brown of her skin, warmed from the sun, now catching a deadly chill; as she walked down the main road… they watched her. The villagers hooked their eyes deep into her, pinning her with curiously loathing gazes, and mouths that twitched down into furious scowls, with yellowing teeth bared into mockeries of the lions and tigers she'd seen Before, and arms bulging into violent actions of rage, veins stiffly rising to match their vitriol.

The dreams, the slow panic that had edged its way under her skin like an oozing poison, they'd dragged her attentions from the boy, her father, her mother and siblings, and lured her to this very moment, to these very actions.

It was like a trance within herself that she moved - utterly aware of every single second she sliced through the tension of those terrifying, male gazes - and yet, unable to discern to where she walked, or what she was looking for.

Come, the earth urged, come sang the gurgling creek, come chirped the crickets sitting in the high trees, away from the brightness of the high-noon sun, and basking in the shade of all the earth's dark, looming creatures.

And so, Hitomi walked, and she came, with fear and desperation clouding every footstep she made. Her fingers twitched and trembled by her sides as she heard the male jeers, and just as she was to slip out into the fields, and make her way to the forests, she jolted still, unmoving, at the sight of the familiar burning fire hovering over the barley.

Come.

Come to us, now.

As she made to take a step forward, she stumbled. A thick, sharp pain ricocheted through her head, and a wince came to fill her face. A clump of flowers fell from her tangles, a caricature of what they'd once been, and she pulled away her searching fingers to find the dull gleaming of her red blood.

A shocked kind of silence rose around her, gripping her shoulders and slipping into the cracks of those unaware.

"A rock," she mumbled to herself. Her words broke the silence like a bucket of cold water on an early morning. The offender sat in the palm of her hand, weighty and cold and all-too simple looking, like the dread that flooded her stomach now. She fumbled with it, turning it, and it stained her skin bloody, a blatant mockery of the pain she now felt thrumming thinly under the film of her skin.

And then -

"Don't bring anyone back, witch." A rough, terrible voice filled the ominous raging silence. It angled itself deep into her sides, her heart, her soul. She was no witch. No terror. "Or you'll be bringing our deaths with you."

And yours, was what he didn't say.

She stood for a moment longer, the rock tucked tightly between her fingers, memories of shame and terror and fear robbing her blind of the bravery she'd garnered herself with in leaving the house.

As she blinked, tilting her head back to watch the cloudy sky, the light of the moon flickering over her like a tender caress, she spotted the blazing light once more, hovering, buzzing.

come to us, the fields, the animals, the ground and sky crooned.

The whole world shook for her…the universe filled her very soul to the brim with the urge to move.

And Hitomi walked.

(I cannot go home…the thought sat within her chest, encased in a couch of denial and fear and loss…I cannot come back…

And yet… the earth hungered, and raged, and…and she could not let that be…)

She did not look back for their bellows of rage, or wails of betrayal.

(She couldn't)

It took her a moment to realise she was in the forest. The fields of barley, stalks illuminated in the flickering light of the onibi, ran past her. Time fled from her steps, and her eyes could only swallow the billowing fires of blue-green light - curling, smoking hovering things, hungering and slaughtering the closeness of the shadows.

The forest was deathly still. For a moment, she could not move. Her legs trembled, knees weak. The onibi hovered, thrumming and buzzing at her stillness. Her hands shook. Her nightgown had slipped from her shoulder and even the darkness of her skin looked pale in the moonlight.

She exhaled. The leaves barely moved around her, the branches of their stretching trees still reaching towards her. Her hair hung around her, but her head was sticky and sore, and her vision thumped. Thick warmth trickled down her neck. A flower fell to the forest floor, landing with a quiet noise.

She had gone out Before at night…but it wasn't like this, it wasn't anything like this. Her moving city, her winding cobblestone roads, and laughing pubs and restaurants and bars and malls had warmth. Her city, her home, breathed of life and a terribly intimate closeness. Her night was familiar, like a lover's laugh around the corner - thrilling, and all too terrifying. You knew what you'd find - only not in the place you thought.

But this night, this world, was cold now. The earth cooled beneath her feet, her skin becoming pimpled to the touch. There was only the sound of her heart, her breath, the faint, dainty light of the moon-mother, and the moving light of the onibi. The shadows bobbed and weaved around that flickering blue fire, soundlessly stretching around her, a dance of frivolous obscurity, ever-changing.

And then, when her vision blurred further, and her heart grew louder, knees ever-weaker, the sound of the wind wound itself around the trees, lifting their branches off the ground, away from her, moaning and groaning, wrapping around her body, enveloping her, until all she could feel, all she could focus on, were its whispers dancing across her skin.

Child, it crooned prettily, and if she thought hard enough she could imagine a set of sharp teeth in a stranger's mouth, glinting sharply. You must hurry. We wait. We wait.

Hitomi shuddered. Blinked, slowly. A noiseless protest threatened to slip from her mouth, but she froze -

She could hear them, chattering, not long off.

She didn't know how she hadn't heard them before. The sound of her blood had covered it, but now, standing in the stillness of the night, with the wind picking, all she could hear was them.

The ghosts, the spirits. She thought all of a sudden, a dawning kind of realization washing her with fear. I can hear them. I can hear them all.

The thing inside of her - that warm, fluttering thing she'd tried to iron from her mind - gave a dangerous flip.

Whispering, buzzing, tinny voices, at the edge of her hearing. The onibi's flashing fires, and childish giggling and scampering delight. The sound of hushed, terrorizing delight, growing ever nearer.

For a single, half-moment, she thought of the sound of her brother's laughter, however scarce, and how his eyes would crease, and his white-blonde hair would shine in the sun, mouth curling into a beautiful picture. It almost sounded like Yasuo, except this laughter…

This laughter -

This laughter was cruel; this mocking, taunting, carnivorousness laughter; the kind that made you question whether they were laughing among themselves, or if it was directed at you.

She could feel it, that laughter, trickling underneath her skin like a poison, building inside her like a dam, creaking in her bones, until she could no longer breathe with the shame, the embarrassment, the fear.

And she took a single step -

The onibi winked out all at once.

They were upon her.

It's been a while.

Enjoy,

Isedy.