Grasping at the Sky

Chapter 11: Moved

The following day a funeral was held for Kira's mother. Meela Araya hadn't been a noble, or a leader, or even a ninja, but many people still gathered. Kira had been told once, long ago, that the number of people that mourn a person's death shows the value of their life. It was comforting in a way, to know her mother had such great value to the people in the village.

There were few left now. Her mother's ashes had been scattered across her tombstone as was tradition, and soon after people had trickled away like grains of sand through fingers. Kira hadn't moved though; she'd stayed standing in front of her mother's resting place among the other graves, watching as the wind played with lingering ashes.

Kira couldn't remember the last time she'd worn a dress. Such fashion was hardly suitable for a shinobi, and they weren't seen much in the dessert either. Still, she wore one now, long sleeved and black, the skirt reaching just past her knees. Her hair was freshly washed and set back into her normal style and all traces of tears had been scrubbed away.

Aya stood beside her, a hand on her shoulder meant as a comfort, but to her it felt like dead weight. She didn't know what to say to her friend, and while Aya had offered caring words, it all felt a little hollow now. Kira couldn't really seem to figure anything out though. The last day had been nothing more than a blur of emotion and exhaustion, as she had passed out not long after crying for over an hour the day before.

The grief was there now, it would be there for a while she figured, but it wasn't the same. She was spent, level headed once more, and while it nearly ate away at her soul, Kira had accepted the passing of her mother. It didn't make it any less painful, but in excepting it, in grieving the way she had, Kira had found a little strength to pick herself back up and move again.

She just wasn't sure where to move.

"I know you probably don't want to think about it," Aya said quietly, her hand squeezing gently on Kira's shoulder. "But my mom said you could use our extra room if you wanted to." She meant well, Kira knew she did, but the idea of moving into a house and a room that had once belonged to Aya's older sister bothered her. Kira had never met the women, but she had apparently moved to the Land of Stone to follow some boy home. It felt like an intrusion to use the room. Still, Kira knew rather well she couldn't keep staying in the house she'd grown up in. Her salary as a ninja wasn't bad, but it certainly couldn't support a place that big. Beside, Kira had no real use for half of that place anymore.

"I'll think about it," she muttered, echoing her friend's words, eyes pinned to the flowers that nearly covered the words etched into the stone.

"Alright. I'll see you later okay?" The only reply her friend got was a short nod. Aya sighed, and slowly her hand dropped from Kira's shoulder and she walked away. Kira didn't turn to watch her go, just listened to her retreating footsteps as the wind picked up and tousled her hair to the sided. Slowly, she crouched down, eyeing the flowers and grave.

There was a part of her that berated her for her actions. How could she be so self-centered, it reason, when a war was brewing that would affect every person she knew and more. It was only a small part of her though, and Kira resigned herself to the fact that the world could go on without her for a few days, that she had a right to do as she did now.

After a long moment Kira reached forward and grabbed a few of the flowers from the grave and turned slightly to put them down on the grave a foot from her mother's, but perfectly lined up with it. The stone was much older; a few cracks had formed along the edges of the plaque. It read: Akio Araya, the date of his death being that of eleven years ago. Kira hadn't known him well, but he had been the reason for her happy home life. She just wished she'd been able to know him better.