guardian of the storm | ✓

Chapter Fifty-Nine ~ The Return

~Chapter Fifty-Nine~

The first thing that she felt was a dull ache as if she hadn't moved in a very long time and her body was locked in place. She stifled a groan, her fingers twitching as she tried to move. Bit by bit her body warmed up, her joints and muscles yawning as they awakened from the long sleep.

Sunlight kissed her cheeks in greeting, a slow warmth enveloping her. She peeled her eyes open, blinking a few times so the world would fall into focus. Trees stretched overhead, pieces of grass folded underneath her body, and a stale wind brushed past her. She took a deep breath, pushing with her arms until she came to a seated position.

Winter flexed her fingers, her neck rotating from side to side. She stretched out her legs, flexing her feet and leaning forward to touch her toes, her muscles warming up. She spent quite some time stretching each muscle before getting up. Her legs felt weak and she took a few experimental steps, waiting for her body to get used to the action again. She looked down, noticing the red tank top and black ninja pants, all tear-free.

She used the trees, pressing her left hand against them gently as she made her way through the forest.

She came to the edge of a clearing, raising her right arm to help shield her eyes from the bright glare of the sun, looking around to try and find a familiar landmark that would show her where she was.

A tree branch rustles and Winter's eyes snapped to the other side of the clearing, her body tensing out of habit as she waits for the person to come into view. At first she just sees a hand brushing a few leaves away, then the young man ducks underneath a broken branch and is illuminated by the sun.

A blue sash is tied around his forehead, a piece of black hair in between his eyes and ending above his nose. A high collar came up to his chin, a tan poncho draped over his shoulders, and light gray pants ending above his bandaged ankles.

Winter stood still, wondering just how much someone could change in six months, and unsure if she was staring at Sasuke or just someone who had an eerie resemblance to him.

Red eyes clashed with turquoise, and Sasuke felt the blood drain from his face.

His Sharingan pierced through the air, searching for any jutsu that could conjure his dead friend in front of him. Finding none, he looks back at Winter, the familiar red chakra coursing through her veins staring right back at him. "How..." he trails off for a moment, still searching for deceit, "you have her chakra."

Winter tilted her head, the movement so canine and Winter-like, Sasuke began doubting himself. "I would assume that I would have my chakra, after all it's mine and mine alone." She let out a long sigh, "I did expect you to be a little more grateful and a little less hostile, after all I did save your life asshat."

His jaw clenched and within seconds he stood in front of her, mere inches separating them. "Prove it."

"Prove what?" She snarls, the anger that only showed up around the black haired male rising to the surface.

"That you're really Winter Ookami."

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "You're unbelievable." she muttered, pushing the irritation away.

"I'm unbelievable? You're impersonating a war hero, someone who saved thousands of lives, and you dare to tell me that I am unbelievable?" he spat, "I have half a mind to take you to the nearest village and turn you over to their integration—"

Lighting struck the ground, less than an inch away from the two, Winter slowly lifting her head to show the storm clouds that had replace the usual turquoise hue. "You're trying my patience, and let me tell you, I will not hesitate to deck you in the face to straighten out those thoughts of yours."