{"id":1102,"date":"2014-09-12T21:14:57","date_gmt":"2014-09-13T01:14:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/swirlingpetals.com\/?p=1102"},"modified":"2020-05-15T10:20:03","modified_gmt":"2020-05-15T14:20:03","slug":"preview-chapter-39","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/swirlingpetals.com\/?p=1102","title":{"rendered":"Chapter 39 Preview"},"content":{"rendered":"

Author’s note:<\/strong> Sorry it’s been so long! Happy to be back on schedule posting again though! Here’s a preview of the upcoming chapter. Big things to come!! \ud83d\ude09<\/em><\/p>\n

39 \u2014 Transformation<\/b><\/p>\n

Author\u2019s note: In the earlier chapters I did not name the members of Katsuro\u2019s team, particularly the ones who gave him such trouble on the way up to the temple, after they\u2019d ambushed Sakura. I have since named them \u2014 Raiden and Fumio \u2014 as they make an appearance here.<\/i><\/p>\n

Katsuro moved stealthily through the dark camp. Soft fires glowed and voices threaded around tents, but he was alert as to them as if he were moving through enemy encampment.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It had been three days since his return and the waiting was getting under his skin, making him jumpy and irritable. Itachi had left to confer with the Akatsuki leader and he had forbidden Katsuro from leaving, fighting, discussing anything that had happened, and especially letting even a shred of the demon\u2019s chakra escape. He said it was central to his plan. His <\/span>new<\/i> plan.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro growled under his breath and turned away from a cluster of men walking between the tent rows.<\/span><\/p>\n

All that was left to do was wait. And the longer he waited the harder it was to control his temper.<\/span><\/p>\n

The loss of his team was barely noticed in the camp. Some men were too new to have known them. Others cast Katsuro looks of quiet pity. Both rubbed him the wrong way. It all felt wrong, and he didn\u2019t want either.<\/p>\n

But what really stoked his smoldering anger was the return of some familiar faces to the camp. Raiden, Fumio and the band of thugs that had accompanied him to the mountaintop temple with Sakura years before. He had gone out of his way to avoid them. And it had worked\u2026so far\u2026.<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro turned away from the main camp toward the treeline where his tent sat alone. But instead of dark woods, a low fire glowed ominously beyond the line of trees. Deep laughter carried up the footpath.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro swore. <\/span>This<\/i> was the result of Itachi\u2019s waiting. Having to tangle with these fools.<\/span><\/p>\n

He stomped up the path, gritting his teeth and pushing down the fire sparking in his gut.<\/span><\/p>\n

The men standing around the fire turned in unison at the approaching footsteps, snickering, coughing and nudging each other.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro stopped at the treeline. \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t be back here,\u201d he said, voice quiet with leashed anger.<\/span><\/p>\n

The group parted, revealing its big, bushy-headed leader, Raiden, standing across the fire. He had gotten even bulkier over the ensuing years, and by the looks of the nasty grin, illuminated now by the orange firelight, he knew it. Beside him stood Fumio, his closest comrade. Fumio was just as wiry as he was before, with the cords of his muscles stretching down his arms to his thin, cruel hands. Only a new scar rippling across the meat of his cheek showed the progress of time.<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro swung his eyes over the group, recognizing many of the thick-necked thugs from his previous pairing with Raiden. Katsuro tightened a fist.<\/span><\/p>\n

Seeing the gesture, the Raiden laughed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not happy to see us? Little Kat-su-ro,\u201d he lilted.<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro kept his expression stony. \u201cI knew you were here.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

They all laughed then, firelight adding a malicious glint to their hooded eyes.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe heard about your little friends getting killed,\u201d Fumio sneered and Raiden added, \u201cYeah, but what I want to know is how a scrawny thing like you made it out, and the others didn\u2019t\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro felt a deep fury well inside him, threatening to spill over like a boiling pot.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLook at him,\u201d another man echoed. He threw his mop of hair away from his eyes, but Katsuro didn\u2019t recognize him. \u201cHe\u2019s all skin and bones, a little runt if ever I saw one. Bet he\u2019d squeal just like that pig we stole last night.\u201d He flashed his gaze toward the rest of his group, proving his was more interested in their attention than Katsuro\u2019s.<\/span><\/p>\n

It worked. The group laughed, nodding and acknowledging him, all except Raiden. He stood watching Katsuro, arms folded across his barrel chest, frowning. \u201cYou are still a little runt, aren\u2019t ya. How is it you look just the same since then, when you was trippin\u2019 over yourself for that girlie\u2014\u201c<\/span><\/p>\n

The smiles of the men quickly dissolved, replaced by narrow-eyed suspicion.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s right, you threw us over for that girl,\u201d one said, jabbing a meaty finger at Katsuro. \u201cYour own team!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYour best team!\u201d Raiden added, grinning cruelly now. \u201cThat wasn\u2019t a smart thing to do. \u2018Specially since we\u2019re still here, and she ain\u2019t\u2026.\u201d He popped his knuckles as he spoke. \u201cAnd what I want to know is was she worth it. But don\u2019t answer me yet\u2014\u201c He pulled a metal chain out of his pocket and and wrapped it over his knuckles, making a tight fist.<\/span><\/p>\n

He stepped forward. \u201cNow that Itachi\u2019s gone, we can talk about it\u2026man to man.\u201d His voice dropped a notch. \u201cYou are a man now aren\u2019t you? What with you having a girl and your own team\u2026.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The rest of the men stepped back, forming a circle, just like the fighting rings they used to have in camp.<\/span><\/p>\n

Raiden spit on the ground and began to circle him. \u201cOh that\u2019s right, your team\u2019s <\/span>dead<\/i>. And your girl\u2019s long gone.\u201d He shook his head, swinging his hair and loosening up his muscles.<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro stood perfectly still, seething with rage. The kyuubi answered with hot licks of promised power. He hooked his hand over the curved handle of the Captain\u2019s Rain dagger as Raiden crossed behind him.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Raiden didn\u2019t miss the threatening movement. \u201cOi, you got a new weapon?\u201d He laughed meanly. \u201cStole it, more like.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span>What?!<\/i> I fought with him! He\u2014\u201c<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not what I heard,\u201d Raiden taunted, coming around to the front. \u201cIf that\u2019s so, then how\u2019d you get back here without a scratch?\u201d The group backed him with a low grumbles of acknowledgement. \u201cNah, I figure the Captain knew you couldn\u2019t handled it, so he took the hit for the Big Boss\u2019s boy.\u201d Raiden stopped directly in front of him. \u201cSo what I want to know is\u2026when you finally came out of hiding\u2026was the old man\u2019s body still warm when you took it off him? Or was he already cold and stiff\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro\u2019s eyes flashed red. <\/span>Screw everything he\u2019d promised Itachi.<\/i><\/p>\n

The forest wavered around him as if it had been engulfed in a blazing heat. His teeth ached, wanting to grow. He could feel the power surging through his arms, roiling around his fists. The black woods began to bleed red\u2026.<\/span><\/p>\n

He wanted this. He\u2019d tear Raiden apart. He\u2019d had it coming for so long\u2014<\/i><\/p>\n

\u201cCome on then, let\u2019s see what you can do with it,\u201d Raiden said, coming towards him, his bulky form towering over him.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cKa-Katsuro!\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A tremulous voice arrested their movements, but neither Katsuro nor Raiden took their eyes off the other. The rest of the men turned their heads toward the voice coming up the trail and slowly opened their ranks.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cKa-Katsuro!? Is that you?\u201d A new recruit hovered at the edge of the circle, his gaze nervously darting around the sneering men. \u201cItachi wants you. I-Immediately.\u201d<\/p>\n

With a low growl Katsuro turned \u2014 almost daring Raiden to take a shot as his back, just to give him a reason to tear into him \u2014 and shouldered his way out of the circle to follow the young recruit.<\/span><\/p>\n

Raiden blustered and bellowed, yelling threats at Katsuro\u2019s retreating back, but the rest of the group was already loosing interest and beginning to wander back to the smuggled plum wine and betting games in main camp.<\/span><\/p>\n

With each step Katsuro\u2019s anger receded. He realized how nothing had changed. At all. And it never would. He would always be at the the lowest man. He would always be on the the outskirts. And men like Raiden and Fumio and the rest of them would always be around, waiting to be pound him into the ground.<\/span><\/p>\n

He wanted to be done with this, more than anything. He was suddenly glad that he hadn\u2019t revealed anything to the men and messed up his part of the plan.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ahead of him lay the softly glowing campaign tent, Itachi and the future he so desperately desired.<\/span><\/p>\n

But when he pulled back the canvas flap, he found Itachi readying to leave again. Angry chakra flared in Katsuro\u2019s chest, and Itachi turned to him as if he could feel it. But he was uninterested. He turned back to the scrolls piled in front of him, each time-worn and marked with fading Uchiha fans, and carefully arranged them at the bottom of the pack.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGet ready,\u201d he said over his shoulder. \u201cWe leave tonight.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro blinked, his fiery anger doused.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cUh\u2026. Where are we going?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou want to transform right? Shed your skin, as it were?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYes, but\u2014\u201c<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell you cannot just walk in here as Katsuro and walk out as Naruto,\u201d he said quietly. He dropped a sack of food stuffs down into the pack.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo, but\u2014\u201c<\/span><\/p>\n

Itachi finally lifted his black eyes. \u201cKatsuro must die,\u201d he said, his voice as even and toneless as if it wasn\u2019t even worth mentioning. Just something on his list to be checked off.<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro sucked in a breath and shook his head, numb with shock.<\/span><\/p>\n

Itachi moved on to other supplies, leaving Katsuro standing in the middle of the tent to work through his thoughts.<\/span><\/p>\n

He slowly realized Itachi was right. There was no other way. Naruto and Katsuro couldn\u2019t co-exist. He had to give up one to become the other.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And it was past time to let go. Everyone saw that he wasn\u2019t changing, wasn\u2019t growing. From the men in camp to infinitely more dangerous creatures. Like Sasori.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Itachi\u2019s elaborate jutsu was not adjustable for age. Katsuro wondered for a moment how that detail had slipped by. Itachi was always so careful, so precise\u2026it didn\u2019t make sense\u2026.<\/span><\/p>\n

But it didn\u2019t matter now.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI understand,\u201d Katsuro said firmly. \u201cI\u2019ll do whatever needs to be done.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Itachi nodded without turning.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGood. We leave in an hour. You can\u2019t take anything with you. Everything that yours, <\/span>Katsuro\u2019s<\/i>, must remain here. Untouched. I will remove the jutsu tonight.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The corners of Katsuro\u2019s mouth curved up. <\/span>Finally.<\/i><\/p>\n

Katsuro crossed the camp back to his tent, skirting the big campfire surrounded by men. They laughed and Katsuro thought he\u2019d avoided notice, but Raiden\u2019s deep voice carried above the rest. \u201cI should\u2019ve hauled that pink-haired girl up the mountain. I\u2019d have taken care of her just fine\u2014\u201c<\/span><\/p>\n

They all laughed louder. He took a loud swig of something in a bottle then muttered, \u201cEh, he\u2019s nothing special.\u201d There was a chorus of agreement. But Katsuro kept going.<\/span><\/p>\n

None of it mattered. None of it could touch him. Not even the biting comments about Sakura. He didn\u2019t feel it.<\/span><\/p>\n

Picking his way through the darkness toward his silent tent, Katsuro realized belatedly that the mention of Sakura barely rippled his emotions. In fact the anger that her name provoked wasn\u2019t over <\/span>her<\/i>. Instead he wanted to rage at the men for daring to try to control him with something from his past.<\/span><\/p>\n

His past\u2026.<\/i> That\u2019s all she was now.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Rosy embers glowed from the deepest parts of the blackened fire pit in front of the tent. Katsuro ducked his head in and looked around.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Leaving it all was the work of a moment. There was nothing there that belonged to him. And even the things he lost in the ambush weren\u2019t really his. Just spare blankets, bowls and weapons that had been assigned to him. There was nothing in there he needed.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

However, there <\/span>was<\/i> something he couldn\u2019t take with him.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He stood and touched the spot just below his collar bone at the thought, feeling the oblong shape of the necklace through his shirt. His necklace.<\/span><\/p>\n

He drew it out slowly, fingering the cool smooth stone. That would be a problem.<\/span><\/p>\n

Who knew what would be required of him when Itachi removed the jutsu. Attachment to a piece of jewelry would earn Itach\u2019s scorn, and he wasn\u2019t entirely certain the Uchiha wouldn\u2019t dispose of it while he was unconscious.<\/span><\/p>\n

And once the jutsu was removed, who knew what path his life would take.<\/span><\/p>\n

He pulled it over his head and studied in the dim light. It swung in front of him, glowing soft and green. Her face came swimming into his mind for moment. But he hardened himself to the memory.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

This was no longer a memento of her. This was a symbol that he\u2019d survived. He\u2019d survived the demon, and that village that locked it inside him. And he\u2019d survived her and her green eyes. He\u2019d survived all of it. And if he ever needed to be reminded, it was right in front of him.<\/span><\/p>\n

The necklace belonged to him and no one else. It was the only thing in his life that had ever truly belonged to him. It was his only possessions in the world\u2026and now he needed to find someplace else to hide it. He couldn\u2019t take it with him and he couldn\u2019t leave it here.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He\u2019d bury it, he decided. He\u2019d get a box from old man Masato in the supply tent, then bury it beneath one of the ancient oaks, marking the spot so he could find it again later.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro flipped up the pendant, caught it in his fist and dropped it into his pocket.<\/span><\/p>\n

The supplies tent sat nearly as far away from the main camp as Katsuro\u2019s tent, just on the opposite side. Katsuro took a forest path shrouded in darkness, watching the cluster of tents and smoking fires of main camp grow ever smaller as he veered around it. When the main camp was nothing but a dim glow in the woods behind him, he knew he was getting close. And at the next turn of the footpath, a lone campaign tent suddenly hung before him, grey and phantomlike among the dark columns of trees.<\/span><\/p>\n

The supply tent was manned by Masato, a wrinkled old Rain soldier. Older than the captain, he had been a soldier and a scrollmaster in the glory days of Rain, in charge of correspondence and other secretive affairs of state. But now, wrinkled and withered, he whiled away his days managing supplies for Itachi. He was seen as something of a doddering old fool on the rare occasions when he did surface from the old tent. \u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro paused at the weathered canvas flap of the tent, wondering belatedly if the old man was even awake at this hour\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCome in, young soldier,\u201d a voice carried from inside.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro warmed under the epithet, making him miss the captain all over again, and pulled back the flap. His eyes immediately caught on the flash of identical movement across the tent. A cracked old hand mirror hang from a hook. It looked innocent enough, but Katsuro knew it was an old Rain trick that helped the non-shinobi soldiers keep watch.<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro stepped fully inside, letting the flap whisper closed behind him.<\/span><\/p>\n

The supply tent was as just as big as Itachi\u2019s, but for some reason Katsuro always felt the need to duck when entering this space. Towers of crates lined the walls, floor to ceiling, and fading into the darkened corners. Only someone as rail-like and nimble as Masato could disappear in between the stacks and come back out with what he needed. The red kanji for Rain country was splashed over the wooden crates, and long black lines spelled out the contents: tents, blankets, and weapons. Lots of weapons. Enough to outfit a small army. At the end of the rows sat barrels of dried meats and fruits, and clay jars brimming with scrolls, some full of writing, some clean and new.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

At the center of the darkened tent, the supply crates closed ranks around an ancient desk, lending it an air of cloistered secrecy. It was lit by a single lamplight and piled high with scrolls and parcels, red wax and spools of string.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro took a moment to marvel at the sight, and the clamp of anger that had gripped him that last few days slowly released its hold. No matter where they were, how new they were to the camp, to Katsuro it always felt like the supply tent had been rooted in that spot for ages.<\/span><\/p>\n

The old metal lantern flickered at the shift in the air, casting strange patterns over the parchment flattened in the center of the desk and distorting the long lines of writing. Old Masato smiled up from his perfect circle of light, a secret smile that rippled up his face, and the shifting shadows turned the wrinkles at the corners of his mouth into deep trenches.<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro had always liked the old man. He was always ready with a smile and a solution to any need. But in the golden glow, he looked older than ever, with his head as bald and spotted as a brown egg and just a stringy fringe of white hair trailing over his collar. But in spite of his age, he sat comfortably on a cushion on the floor, one leg tucked under him and one knee pulled up to his chest, spry as a child.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro tipped his head in surprise at his appearance. He\u2019d never seen him in anything other than his old Rain fatigues. But tonight over his fatigues Masato wore a ragged old kimono, the faded silk patched and repatched with scraps of old cotton. He caught up one sleeve and held it cautiously over the parchment and sighed softly. Moving the curtain of his sleeve, Masato revealed a calligraphy brush and several wet lines of running down the page.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It was only then that Katsuro notice the rack of hanging brushes at one side of the parchment and a long ink-stone at the other, the black ink still still shimmering in the deepest end. A lone moth swooped and dove at the lantern, adding its own shadow to the patterns on the parchment.<\/span><\/p>\n

Still holding back his sleeve, Masato wiped the extra ink from the brush and set it in the inkwell before offering Katsuro an almost embarrassed smile. \u201cYou caught me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro\u2019s hand instantly went to the back of his neck. \u201cOh! I\u2019m sorry, I didn\u2019t mean to interrupt\u2014\u201c but Masato stopped him.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo you are not interrupting anything. I was just\u2026indulging in an old past time.\u201d He turned the scroll so Katsuro could see, and Katsuro was surprised to discover that it wasn\u2019t like anything he\u2019d ever seen before.<\/span><\/p>\n

Mists of color \u2014 pale blue, sandy brown and moss green \u2014 drifted across the background. Only flecks of bright gold illuminated the dreamy scene. Long streams of ink-black writing tumbled vertically down the page, tracing a path like a falling leaf down each line.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro crumpled his mouth into a frown, knitted his brows together and tipped his head nearly upside down, but no matter how he looked at it, he couldn\u2019t decipher a single word. Finally giving up studying it, he glanced up at Masato with questioning eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

Masato exhaled deeply. \u201cIt is old writing,\u201d he said, turning the document back to him. \u201cVery old. It is Rain country poetry. There are very few who still write it.\u201d He ran his fingers down a line, letting his hand linger on a few phrases. \u201cAnd fewer still who can read it.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

With one last long look he slid the parchment off the table and onto the reed mat beside him to dry. He gently straightened the paper, then spoke as softly as his movements. \u201cI do not know why I persist. But something inside me calls out, even though all the ones I cared about are gone. It is nonsensical really, to write poems that no one but me can read. But something calls out\u2026and I must answer it. I suppose that somehow it brings us closer to what we\u2019ve lost.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He turned back to Katsuro and folded his hands on the desk. Katsuro watched the moth spiral closer and closer until it was throwing itself at the lantern again. The lyrical pattern of the parchment was replaced with the moth\u2019s endlessly fracturing shadow on the table.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI am sorry about your team.\u201d Masato\u2019s words were measured and soft, but they carried the weight of someone who meant them, who understood. \u201cAnd I am sorry about the captain. He was an old friend.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro pressed his lips into a thin line, gripping the necklace in his pocket. He had created a believable enough story, but suddenly the words felt hollow. Lying to the old man, even burying his only possession in the middle of an ancient forest, it all felt wrong.<\/span><\/p>\n

He drew out the necklace in his hand and looked at it for a moment before revealing it. Maybe some things were too important to be buried away forever.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2026uh\u2026. I\u2019m going on another mission soon, and I need a safe place to keep this. I don\u2019t want anything to happen to it.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Masato took it, nodding sagely. He admired it a moment before passing it back. \u201cYes, yes\u2026I have just the thing\u2026.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He disappeared behind the low table and dug his hand through a nearby crate, pushing it away unsatisfied before clawing through another one.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAh! Here it is!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He laid a small wooden box on the table and popped open the hinged lid so Katsuro could inspect the empty inside.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Leaning over the table, Katsuro glanced up skeptically. But before he had time to ask what was so special Masato swiped of his thumb over the base and a hidden drawer popped out. Katsuro blinked. Masato motioned for Katsuro to drop his necklace it into the drawer.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro watched it disappear, and Masato grinned up at him. \u201cProblem solved. I will send this to our contact at the edge of the Rain country who holds all of our supplies until we\u2019re ready for them. He\u2019ll take care of this too.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Masato wrapped the box in clean parchment, making tight locking folds at the sides, and tied it tightly with string. He wrote the intended destination on several sides and stamped one empty corner with a red wax seal. It now looked like a package from any country. Completely hidden in its normalcy.<\/span><\/p>\n

Masato passed over his wet brush to Katsuro and he wrote the characters for his name across one side. It was only as he was swiping the brush through the last character that he realized that he would not go by Kat-su-ro much longer. But it didn\u2019t matter now, he decided. He blew on the shiny black letters, committing them to the paper, then handed it back.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAlmost forgot,\u201d Masato said, taking up the brush again. He wrote something beside the seal in the same flowing movements as the poetry. It looked more like a beautiful design than actual letters. \u201c<\/span>My<\/i> name. That way he will know what to do with it.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Masato turned around and placed the small box at the very top of a pyramid of scrolls and crates sitting beside the table. \u201cIt will be waiting for you there.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro glanced once at the box, it\u2019s writing and wrapping looking so much like everything else under the flickering golden light, as if it had instantly taken on a patina of age. He committed the sight of it to memory, sincerely hoping this wasn\u2019t the last time he saw it. But he couldn\u2019t worry about that now. Whatever happened, it was safer there than with him.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro turned back to the old scrollmaster and bowed deeply, but the Masato waved him on. He was already pulling out another painted parchment \u2014 this one with delicately swooping cranes threading through the grey-green mist \u2014 rolling his brush through the black ink and gathering up his patched sleeve.<\/p>\n

At the door, Katsuro stopped and turned back, struck with a sudden thought.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2026. I would like to read some of your poetry, one day,\u201d he blurted out, then stopped, feeling awkward in the lengthening silence. He didn\u2019t know what made him say it. He\u2019d never read poetry in his life. But the thought of old Masato, after a lifetime of war and loss, somehow making sense of it was\u2026intriguing to him.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Masato paused, brush over paper. The shadows pooling under his eyes suddenly made him look very tired. \u201cI would like that too,\u201d he said quietly.<\/span><\/p>\n

It took Katsuro work out that his tone was not of hope, but of a wish. He realized too late that perhaps Masato was speaking of things he knew could never be.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Unable to think of anything else to say, Katsuro thanked him and bowed again, deeply. When he lifted his head and looked again, Masato\u2019s brush was already dancing a long black ribbon down the page. A new poem had begun. Katsuro exited quietly.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFair winds, young man,\u201d Masato\u2019s voice followed him through the door. It was an old Rain farewell. Katsuro hadn\u2019t heard it in years. He paused, turning back to see the canvas flap closing behind him. It was hard to believe there was an old man in there writing poetry. It was like a different world. It gave him a little bit of comfort, thinking that perhaps with him the necklace would be safe with him\u2026.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Katsuro turned into the clear night, readjusting to his eyes to the harsh lines of the forest, and set off for Itachi\u2019s tent.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\n\t<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Author’s note: Sorry it’s been so long! Happy to be back on schedule posting again though! Here’s a preview of the upcoming chapter. Big things to come!! \ud83d\ude09 39 \u2014 Transformation Author\u2019s note: In the earlier chapters I did not name the members of Katsuro\u2019s team, particularly the ones who gave him such trouble on […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[15],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1102","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-preview","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5hctF-hM","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/swirlingpetals.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1102","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/swirlingpetals.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/swirlingpetals.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/swirlingpetals.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/swirlingpetals.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1102"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/swirlingpetals.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1102\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3168,"href":"https:\/\/swirlingpetals.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1102\/revisions\/3168"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/swirlingpetals.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1102"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/swirlingpetals.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1102"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/swirlingpetals.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1102"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}