Grasping at the Sky

Chapter 7: Friends

The once steaming bath of healing herbs had long since cooled to a degree only slightly warmer then herself as Kira lazily stayed planted in the deep tub, everything below her nose submerged. Her skin tingled, the pleasant sting of cuts and deep burses being cleansed and encouraged to heal faster then they might have on their own.

Her mother always did this, always had a bath ready for her when Kira came home from long, draining missions. She had accepted her adopted daughter's fated life as a Shinobi, but she had stubbornly told Kira once that didn't stop her from taking care of her, even if she was quiet capable of doing it herself.

So when Kira had arrived home late from a weeklong mission with her ANBU team out in the Land of Grass, covered in small cuts from a wind user, her mother – old and cane bound as she was – got to work. Soon the water had been heated and the mixture of herbs her mother kept in stock was mixed within. She'd left Kira to herself after that, patting her on the arm and giving her a knowing smile, a smile that Kira knew meant her mother was glad she was home safely.

That had been a little over an hour ago and Kira knew her mother was long in bed. Blowing bubbles into the water she watched idly as her hair floated around her in the water like moss. She should get out, get some sleep, she thought with a frown. She couldn't, or rather knew it wouldn't work. While her muscles lagged and her bones groaned, her eyes were wide, watching, waiting. Her mind was always the last part of her to shift back to normal after a long mission, so Kira knew sleep was far off, even now.

With a tired sigh the shadow user finally stood, stepping out into the chilly air and onto the bath mat before unplugging the stopper and reaching for a towel. Once dry, she pulled on the normal clothes most villagers wore; a long tunic like shirt with pants. She didn't wear them often, finding it too hard to fight and run in, but they were soft and warm, nothing like the tough leather of both her ANBU and normal training gear. She grabbed a thick scarf on the way out her window, wrapping it around her neck for easy access incase her wet hair made her ears and face too cold.

She'd star gaze, she decided, and work on her almost finished belt, the pouch of string and beads calling to her as it hung at her hip. Jumping up onto the flat roof of her home, she knew her feet wouldn't wake her mother – the women was a deep sleeper – but even so, Kira's feet never made sound.

A great sea of stars greeted her as Kira moved to sit on the lip of her home, facing the outskirts of the village. Her mom's home was larger than most since it was a house and tattoo parlor combined, and was set further into the outer ring of buildings than most resident homes were. Rather than neighbors Kira, had grown up with a pet store on one side and a food pill shop on the other.

Both stores were closed for the night, the owners gone home so Kira knew she wouldn't bother anyone by turning on the small oil lamp she kept under a wooden box on the roof for times like these. With a click, the flame flickered to life and a small circle of light grew around her as she set it to her left and pulled out her work.

She twisted and tied and pulled, stringing beads and weaving braids all the while as the stars glittered and the moon glowed its ghostly light. It continued on like that for a while, just her and the sky above as she worked. It wasn't until her fingers had started to complain of the cold that she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. In the distance, not too far off, someone walked. Not really towards her, she realized, just back towards town. Her eyes flickered to where they had come from and suddenly she knew who it had to be, and let her tensing muscles relax once more.

She recognized the area off to the side as the placed Gaara had first questioned her. He'd mentioned once he spent a great deal of time out there thinking, something Kira had observed herself as she watched him over the years. She couldn't image many people would walk out into the cold of the desert to think, but then again, Gaara wasn't most people.