Still Water

Still Water

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Out of the Darkness

She was aware first of the light. It seemed so bright after all the darkness. She turned away from it. It was so much easier down in the dark, so she let herself fall back into it.

The light was stronger now, and she couldn’t find the darkness as easily as she once had. And now, with the light, dim shapes were moving about. From somewhere far above her, she heard muffled voices. She didn’t listen to them, but buried herself in the darkness. It was too painful to do anything else. 

She opened her eyes, and the light flooded in to them. It hurt the back of her head.

“Madoka-sensei? Madoka-sensei! I think she’s waking up.”

“She’s been going in and out of consciousness for the last two days. What makes you think this is any different?”

“Because her eyes are open. Really open, and they’re focused.”

She heard a sharp intake of breath, then rapid steps. All the noise and talking made her head hurt even more, but the worst was the steps. They echoed so loudly, and once they started, they didn’t stop.

“Move aside, girl,” the second voice said as a shadow fell across her eyes. “My my, Izumi, you were right. Dim the lights, so that they don’t hurt her eyes after that concussion. Go tell Shibuki that she’s awake.”

“Yes, Madoka-sensei.”

A few moments later, everything became dimmer. Better, she thought, much better, but still not good enough. She tried to turn into the darkness again, but the second voice wouldn’t let her.

“Hey there, little fox.” She realized it was the older of the two women speaking, a woman with dark blue hair. “Kitsune. Can you hear me?”

She groaned in response, just wanting to be left alone.

“You’ve had a bad time,” the old woman said, “I’m Madoka. Can you tell us your name or where you’re from?”

She opened her lips, and it felt like easing open a door that had been rusted shut. “Where – where am I?” her voice rasped in her throat.

“Safe,” Madoka replied, sighing. “You’re safe. Just rest now. You’ve been through a lot today.”

The lights dimmed again, and she smiled as she was allowed to slip back into the darkness again.

 

“You’ve suffered a concussion, a punctured lung, and a broken leg, as well as some post-parturition trauma,” the young girl, the apprentice to Madoka, was saying. She was at least sitting up now, and could see the girl, Izumi, fully. She was still sensitive to light, but could see that the girl was tiny and had white hair and blue eyes. Across her face like smeared stars were blue dots, some of which were connected. A line ran down her nose, and two triangles opened beneath her eyes, like she was crying. A line ran down her jaw and throat, and she could see the dots on her hands and arms. Izumi looked like she would fade away like a snowy wind.

She tried to move her leg, but it was stiff and suddenly started aching, deep and penetrating. Bad idea, she thought.

“Don’t overwhelm her,” the older medic cautioned. “She’s been in a coma for three months. We want to take things slowly so she can make a full recovery.

“She’s quite a fighter, our Kitsune,” Madoka continued.

“A coma? Kitsune?” she mumbled. Her tongue was still heavy in her mouth.

“My apologies, but since we didn’t know how you were called and your hair is the color of the fox’s fur, we’ve nicknamed you Kitsune. But please, tell us your name, and where you came from.”

The darkness seemed to swim up a little in front of her. Who was she?

“I don’t remember.”

Silence.

“I’m sure you’ll remember as soon as you’ve recovered your strength,” Madoka said, “but for now we’ll call you Kitsune.”

“Looks like a bad case of amnesia to me,” Izumi chimed in. She looked at the medic apprentice. Who was that little girl to ask questions? She was already fed up with the way they were treating her, like a little lost child, and it was sapping her strength.

“Where am I?” she demanded with as much strength as she could muster, which wasn’t much.

 Izumi piped up. “You’re in Takigakure, the Hidden Waterfall Village.”  

 

 

That night, in the darkness as she slept, suddenly, everything convulsed, and turned into a golden shade of yellow. 

 

“You have a visitor, Kitsune,” Izumi said, peering through the hospital room door.

She, the invalid, Kitsune as they were calling her, was sitting up. She was feeling better and starting to move around again. She didn’t want to be bedridden too long, or else she would become weak. Despite losing her past, she was still pretty sure she was a shinobi, but what rank, she couldn't fathom.