Chapter Eighteen: Rest

I jolted awake, my whole body shaking like it was fighting off the biting cold of this northern spring. The air, wet and brisk, turned every breath into a ghost. It's the way of the season, yet not a bit of comfort in sight. The sun was up higher than I thought, shining on this drizzly afternoon with a liar's light. I felt all turned around, strange as this stable I ended up in, with its hay for my bed.

let out a groan, suddenly aware of a deep pain I hadn't noticed before, hidden beneath the rush of adrenaline. The slightest move sent a surge of agony through me, all stemming from a nasty cut on my shoulder.

Slowly, I reached to touch my side, but that alone was agony. My skin felt like it was on fire, all thanks to Ittetsu's cursed black sludge. I needed to strip off these clothes of me.

I tried to stand, filled with a fool's courage, but my body wasn't having any of it. I yelped and collapsed back into the hay. My ankle was swollen, covered in a layer of black, and it refused to bear my weight.

Determined to get up, I attempted to push myself off the ground, only to collapse back down with a sharp cry. My ankle refused to bear any weight. I looked at it, covered in black much and so fucking swollen.

Just then, Rapidash nudged me gently, inviting me to grab onto her. I looked at her, somehow pristine after everything. Well, half pristine – her bottom half.

"Hey, you," I murmured, reaching out to stroke her mane.

She knelt beside me, her grace making the action seem effortless. I leaned in close, examining her.

"Your horn's all dirty," I said with a small smile, gently brushing it clean. "Where are we?"

She just nickered softly, a sound that seemed to say, "Somewhere.".

"I don't know what that means. There. You clean now. Your horn at least" , I said while she stood gracefully, offering her neck to me again.

"Rapidash", (It's classified), I grabbed hold, grateful for her support.

"Classified, huh?" I smiled as I managed to hoist myself up. "Well, my story's a big secret too.", Leaning against her for balance, we left the stable behind

Ahead, a quaint log cabin, its walls battered by time and weather, emerged from the embrace of a granite ledge, standing as if it had grown straight from the earth itself.

The cabin, with its crooked chimney and windows like bleary eyes, seemed to watch us approach. It was wrapped in a fenced paddock, the wood aged to a soft grey, and a lean-to shelter clinging to its side like a faithful hound. The door, sturdy and unyielding, bore the carving of a Konoha sigil, the lines deep and purposeful, speaking of blades long gone.

"What is this place?" I murmured to Rapidash, relying on her strength as we moved closer. "Is this a safe house?" I asked.

"Rapidash", (You guided me, here).

I furrowed my brows, "Did I?"

"Rapidash", (Yes).

"Have you eaten anything?"

"Rapidash", (No).

I sighed, a sting of guilt lacing my words. "Sorry to keep you waiting, old girl." I owed her more than I could repay. She'd had saved my life, galloped the night while I was unconscious on her back. Well, half unconscious – apparently delirious too. Well, a bit of my time was the least I could offer.

She trotted back towards the stable, giving me a look, like she expected better.

I limped with her, scanning our surroundings warily. In the dim light, I found a bin of grain and a couple of buckets. The grain was stale, but free from weevils.

Slowly, very slowly - I scooped some into a bucket and turned to her. "How's about a feast, eh?" My attempt at cheer sounded hollow even to my own ears.

She didn't answer. Well… I set the bucket down onto the ground before her. Her breath, warm against my cheek, was a small comfort. "Yeah. Yeah. Let's go," I grumbled.

Rapidash nudged my side, offering support as we made our way to the cabin. Each step sharpened the pain in my ankle, and I reluctantly released my grip from around her neck. "Go on, you've earned your meal," I whispered. Her warm breath on my back was like a gentle push, urging me forward.

I wrestled open the door, each motion a battle, and dragged myself inside.

The place, a forgotten hovel, greeted me with a dance of dust devils around my boots as I hobbled deeper. No shinobi, not one worth their salt, had darkened this threshold in ages, that much was clear.

The cabin was a pit of darkness, shutters clamped tight against the outside world. But the gods hadn't deserted me just yet—I still had my trusty torch. With my less useless hand, I rummaged for it, flicking it on. The beam, sharp and white, sliced through the dark, laying bare every nook and cranny.

A wooden bathtub looking thing. A straw mattress, more pathetic than inviting, lay sprawled on the ground. A shelf, a big one, held a few candles, a lamp, and some scrolls. A pile of wood, cut for a fire never lit, sat next to a stone fireplace. A pantry full of cans. Elsewhere, shelves sagged under the weight of jars, their contents sealed with wax and cork.

In a large as fuck cedar-lined trunk, I found a small mercy—blankets, pillows, and clothing. It wasn't much, but in my sorry state, it felt like a king's ransom. Especially the last one.

I then went out of the cabin. The horse started to come to me, but I waved her off. I could limp on my own. Actually…

Dragging my carcass towards the stable, I grabbed a bucket and set off in search of water. Didn't have to drag myself far. There was a stream, smoky and secretive, slipping down behind the ledge, tumbling into an embankment that crashed into a raging river below. I didn't even know I was so high.

Then I started thinking - Where was I? If I had went straight on, I would certainly passed by a river – the Tenbirama River, actually. But a mountain?

Any mountain I can think of would be far to up north. Well, I can found out about this later.

I leaned over that stream, its water cold as a lie, washing the dust and sins from my throat. Felt like shedding my old skin, I did. I let myself fall into the river, feeling the oil peel off me, watching it drift away like dark memories.

Sitting on the bank, I stripped off my soiled clothes, scrubbed them with a fury born of desperation, letting the river take away the poison, the way it washed away my thoughts.

When I finished my task, I hauled the bucket, dragging my aching body to the nearest flat surface. There, I flexed my hands – Rat. Horse. Boar. Then, with a touch, I felt a grin spread across my face as the chakra flowed from me. Feeling as a door magically opened to the stable – I set the bucket before the Rapidash. Well, she had earned it, after all.

Closed that door and opened another.

Stumbling back to the cabin, the first order of business was hanging my clothes out to dry. Then, I rummaged around, found a tinderbox sitting atop the mantel, and worked on the chimney flue. Soon enough, I had wood crackling in the hearth, spreading its comforting warmth through the cabin.

Next, it was back to the river. Gods, It felt damn good having my Jutsu at my disposal again. Filled a kettle with spring water, set it over the fire. Waiting for the water to boil, I scoured the shelves once more. Tea, spices, soap, ointment, a jumble of crockery – I chuckled, scattering tea leaves into a rough-hewn mug, eager for that boiling water.

The trunk was crammed, right to the brim, with gear that spelled more trouble than comfort. Heavy navy trousers, black as a starless night, flak jackets thick enough to stop a blade, three very sturdy backpacks and boots that looked like they could kick through a wall.

I wriggled into a pair of trousers, the only ones that didn't threaten to strangle my legs. Slipping on leather gloves, wide-cuffed, I couldn't help but admire the way they made my hands look like they belonged to someone dangerous.

"Well," I muttered, peeling everything off, "at least they'll stop calling me a genin."

Although I was not entirely sure why they did it before.

Everything in the trunk was untouched, pristine. A note, tacked to the latch, ordered that anything taken be reported to the office. Where was the office? I had no idea, but here it was: Another chore added to the list of things for when I reach Konoha, assuming I don't end up dead on the way.

When the kettle's scream broke the silence, I brewed some tea. Then with my Hana Hana No Mi i set about making myself a proper bath. All my many hands going from the cabin to stream, filling the Kettle, over and over again, putting it in the fire, then dipping everything inside the wooden bathtub.

My stomach growled. Fuck. I needed food, but I didn't had any. Courtesy of Ittetsu's thieving hands. Or paw's. With a sigh, I used the Hana Hana No Mi again, snagging a can from the pantry. No label on it. So I just let my chakra seep into it, wrenching it open with a pop to reveal: Peaches.

"Huh."

Dragging the mattress closer to the fire, I settled down, the fire's crackle a soothing backdrop. There I sat, indulging in the simple pleasure of canned peaches, the warmth of the tea seeping into my bones.

As I waited for the bathtub to fill, time seemed to stretch and warp, turning seconds into minutes, minutes into an eternity. The world outside me and the fire faded into a dull hum, my focus narrowing to the sound of the fire crackling, the water cascading into the tub.

When it was finally over, I limped toward it, each step a pain. With a heavy sigh, I let myself fall into the water, the warmth enveloping me like a long-lost embrace.

The soap in my hand was aggressive, its scent sharp and determined, as if it had declared a personal war against all the dirt and grime clinging to my skin. I scrubbed myself, the cloth in my hand moving in steady, determined circles. The pain in my shoulder flared as I reached over with my Hana Hana No Mi ability, trying to assess the damage. My Bara Bara No Mi powers came in handy as I sent an eye out for a closer inspection. It was bad, but not as catastrophic as I had feared. My torso was a canvas of yellow bruises, each one a reminder of the day's ordeals. The wound on my shoulder was tender, seeping but not infected. I did what I could, bandaging it with whatever I found in the cabinet.

My ankle was next, and I didn't need to look to know it was fractured. I focused, trying to mend it as best as my abilities allowed. Slowly, the sharp edges of pain dulled, and I allowed myself a moment of respite, sinking deeper into the warm embrace of the bath.

I must have dozed off because when I awoke, the light coming through the door told me it was late afternoon. My muscles protested as I stretched, cramped from the wooden contours of the bath. I rose, replenishing the fire with a new log, watching as the embers sparked to life, casting a warm, flickering glow across the room.

I dressed myself with the clothes I had selected, picked my belt and my tree swords. Then, furrowed my brows. I didn't remember sheathing that one again. Well, apparently, I didn't remember a lot of things.

Stepping outside into the chilly air, I went to see Rapidash. She greeted me with a soft whinny, trotting up to the gate. Completely clean.

"Well, you seem in good spirits.", I was about to add another quip when… Boom!

A crash, loud enough to rattle the dead.

My heart jumped like a startled rabbit, and I was off, racing toward the noise, feet slamming into the hard, unforgiving ground.

Getting closer to the stream, the origin of the commotion became painfully obvious. Down the sharp descent of the mountain, a small boat lay wrecked against the rocks, twisted and broken like a toy in the grip of a petulant giant.

I pulled up at the brink, looking at the hole scene.

"What the fuck?"