Flashback
The tan bricks below her feet fairly radiated with heat, causing the young girl to feel as though her tabi would melt and fuse with her soles. She leaned against a wall in the alley nearby - information had come to her through the civil services agent handling her family's immigration that her parents would be released that day, though word had gotten around in some other way, as well. A crowd of angry protestors had gathered, muttering or sometimes shouting about the Leaf and their agents, what people they had killed, and how monstrous they had to be. With long, dark hair, pale skin, and onyx eyes, Ameya had quickly understood how out of sight she needed to be during that time, and so hid in the shadows, watching the door to the intelligence building, where certainly her family would emerge at any moment.
It wasn't fair, of course. Konoha had retaliated against an attack by the Hidden Rain, and Sunagakure was a fair military target in such a war. She had been taught that in the Academy while her parents fought on the front line - or even behind the enemy line. They hadn't committed any crimes by the rules of shinobi warfare. They were simply good at their job. In fact, had the Mist not betrayed them, the Leaf would likely have won the war in total, and she'd be home now, where the shade of trees relaxed her on lazy afternoons after class, and -
A movement from the building ahead caught those idle thoughts and froze them, then. A pair of individuals were shoved from the entrance, the door slammed shut behind. One of them, a man with a slight limp and a red-stained bandage over one eye, had his arm around the other, a dark-haired woman with a mother's figure, stooping slightly to help the male stand. Ameya squinted - who was that? Weren't her parents to be released?
"There they are!" shouted a voice from the crowd, a growling man with a Wind accent that carried with it the tone of malice. "You killed my brother," the same voice rose, to a few angry rumbles of response from the crowd. Even as young and inexperienced as she was, the mood could easily be felt by the young girl, and she tensed, gripping the corner of the building as her eyes scanned nearby rooftops and streets for Sunagakure's home guard, the shinobi that kept the peace within the village walls. None could be seen.
A sudden movement took her attention away from her steady scan, a fast-flying stone that came from somewhere in the crowd. The couple huddled on the steps to the building turned in to one another, hiding their faces as the rock, well aimed, hit the man in the back. He stumbled, but the woman held him, trembling.
"Please, stop! It's over, we just want to live in peace!" she turned and cried, and Ame's eyes widened further. She knew that voice. It had sung to her sweetly at night, and scolded her when she took an extra cookie. It was reason and safety twisted to a tone she'd never heard; that of the pleading and fearful.
"Tell that to my family, bitch!" another voice came, and another rock flew, this time aimed for the struggling woman. Ameya knew it would never hit her as the previous one had hit the man. She wasn't injured like he was, and could easily dodge if she wanted to. A small yelp left Ame's lips as the stone struck with a crack against the side of the woman's head, and she let slip a pained cry. The crowd had grown silent, now, as the target of the attack reeled, red mixing with her dark hair and dripping onto the sandy steps of the building. The pair now looked to be leaning against one another as much as one was holding the other up.
It was a tipping point. Violence had been done with a visible repercussion, now - the blood spilled by the angry stone was fresh and bright in the mid-afternoon sun, and the crowd for the first time saw just how injured the two really were. They were not exactly the monsters that the people wanted, just then; only a young couple who were recently tortured and released only when their secrets were no longer worth tormenting them. A silent murmur went through them, and a couple of the individuals at the back actually turned to leave.
"What?! No, fuck them! They deserve this! My dad and my sister died because of these bastards! Throw another one!" a woman's voice suddenly cried, her attention turned to the person next to her. The crowd's muttering paused, and Ameya could feel the mood turn darker as another voice cried out.
"Yeah, another one! We're just going to let them walk away?!"
Soon insults and angry shouts were flying again, but this time much darker, not crying out for lost or hurt loved ones but instead statements of vengeance and threats. It was too much for the young girl watching from the corner. She stepped forward, determined to step between her parents and the crowd, to defend them if she could. A hand on her shoulder stopped her cold; she hadn't heard whoever it was come up behind her, and their firm grip betrayed a strength that could crush her small frame if it wanted.
"You're the daughter," a soft but deep voice intoned from somewhere above her, and the girl suddenly felt a fear in her heart that transcended her desire to protect. What would he do? She was in danger; there was no doubt in her mind. She'd let the enemy sneak up on her. She'd come within their striking range. She was dead. Only she hadn't died, yet. Timidly, as more rocks began to fly on the steps of the intelligence building, the girl slowly turned her gaze upward. A dark-skinned man in light uniform and a Sunagakure headband displayed proudly greeted her with a stern expression.
"You're thinking of going out there, of standing with your parents - maybe covering them. It's not a good idea," he stated.
"You have options. You could go to them, but the crowd right now... hn. They probably would hesitate only a little to strike a child who looks so much like their enemy. You could also go back to your interim apartment; walk away now. They'll remember when you're enrolled into the academy, however - and resent you. They'll feel like they missed their opportunity, and plot against you," he stated, and to the girl it sounded like reasonable truth. To her scared, scattered mind, there was nothing she could do. She was doomed no matter what.
"But... there is another option," the man continued, producing a small, smooth stone from his pocket and holding it down in front of her in his palm.
Ameya's heart thudded in her chest as she stared down at the ugly brown rock, even at her age understanding the implication of the offer.
"If you ever want to truly live here, even a little at peace... throw, and throw well. Strike hard," he stated with a cold logic, and the girl's small hand folded around the rock, hefting it as she was surprised by its weight. The girl swallowed, and threw a guilty look over at where her mother and father now lay on the steps, father bent over his wife, trying to cover her with his body, and his own head with his hands. Could she do it? Could she throw this stone, and absolve herself at the cost of her family? Her pride? Her love? Her hand lowered, head unconsciously shaking.
It was then that Ameya noticed her father looking in her direction, first glancing at the man behind her, then to the stone in the girl's hand, and then her face with his one good eye. Where before, he had been a mask of pain and pleading, begging the crowd to spare the two, now his jaw set, eyes relaxing to that calm dull black that she knew so well.
Our Will of Fire is what helps us endure. Protect that which is precious to us, no matter what. It's all done for one thing, one ideal, one future. You're our future, Ameya, and that's why we have to go, she remembered, a time when she was younger, when she begged them to stay with her instead of going on a mission. She wasn't sure why those words came to her then, but his slight nod had her fingers tightening around the rock, and stepping forward. This time, she was allowed, and she only took a few steps for momentum before grunting with the force of her throw, aim impeccable, smashing into her father's face and splaying the blood of a broken nose across it. A sound she wasn't familiar with at the time played out behind her. It wasn't until much later that she realized it was the sound of a weapon returning to the sheath.
"Murderers!" she cried, and the crowd hardly seemed to notice her black hair, the tears streaking down her face, or the red eyes they came from.
End Flashback
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