Categories > Anime/Manga > Naruto > After the storm
After the Storm - Chapter 2
0 reviewsHundreds of a years before Gaara became Kazekage, a priest returned to the sands to speak with a priestess named Sayuki - could these events be linked with the previous chapter?
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Howling winds surrounded the figure as it scurried through the winds. Scathed by beads of sand, the stranger hurried across the desert - paying no heed to the way the way their legs were being buried in the sand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From a distant window, an elderly priestess held a candle against the shutters. Her wrinkled face was a portrait of despair, matched only by the howling weather outside. Sighing, she turned to a younger woman, who sat weaving in the corner.
"How is it you remain so calm, Sayuki?" she questioned, raising the girl's attentions from her sewing.
"Hmmmm?" was the distant reply.
"This is your first sandstorm, yet you're calm as a newborn kitten," commented the high priestess. "Don't you know that people die in storms?"
The young woman, Sayuki, smiled and laid her sewing on her lap.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pulling his hood tightly against his face, the stranger stepped inside the ghostly temple. On a regular day it would have been a beehive of activity, filled with priests and the buzz of chanting.
Today was not a regular day, the stranger contemplated such matters as he approached the darkened shape of the shrine and removed his hood. His face was harsh and knowledgeable, giving weight to eyes of polished obsidian.
Bowing to the shrine, his eyes fell on a small man approaching him from the shadows.
"There is no need to quiver, Haru-sempai," he said, rising to his feet and turning to face the man, who immediately fell to his knees. "I do not intend to harm you."
"Sh-Sh-Sh-Shukaku-sama," stammered the priest from the floor. "Your return to Suna is most g-g-g-gracefully acknowledged....how may I help you?"
The man, Shukaku, smiled at the priest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A priestess' job was distinct. Cook, clean, divine, sew and everything else the priests did not wish to sully themselves with. Priests chose the path of scripture, whereas priestesses were given the path of spirits - the one most likely to lead to insanity.
Sewing a lotus pattern into her fabric, the priestess Sayuki whispered the tune of a lullaby to herself. The howling of the storm had long since passed, leaving a kind of silence. Her mother sat opposite, patching kimonos and yawning.
A knock to the door rendered them both startled.
"Enter," was her mother's annoyed response, having dropped her thread across the floor towards the doorway.
Lowering her needle for a split second, Sayuki watched as one of the lower priestesses stepped inside, looking decidedly awkward in their presence. Although she held no real honours, being the sole child of a high priestess gained her a great deal of respect.
"What is it, onee-chan?" said the high priestess, curiosity dominating her wrinkled face.
The young woman blushed, having obviously never been directly addressed by her superior before.
"Shukaku-sama has returned from the north," she replied. "He requests a meeting with Sayuki-sama."
At these words, the high priestess dropped her sewing needle and her daughter rose from her chair.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From a distant window, an elderly priestess held a candle against the shutters. Her wrinkled face was a portrait of despair, matched only by the howling weather outside. Sighing, she turned to a younger woman, who sat weaving in the corner.
"How is it you remain so calm, Sayuki?" she questioned, raising the girl's attentions from her sewing.
"Hmmmm?" was the distant reply.
"This is your first sandstorm, yet you're calm as a newborn kitten," commented the high priestess. "Don't you know that people die in storms?"
The young woman, Sayuki, smiled and laid her sewing on her lap.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pulling his hood tightly against his face, the stranger stepped inside the ghostly temple. On a regular day it would have been a beehive of activity, filled with priests and the buzz of chanting.
Today was not a regular day, the stranger contemplated such matters as he approached the darkened shape of the shrine and removed his hood. His face was harsh and knowledgeable, giving weight to eyes of polished obsidian.
Bowing to the shrine, his eyes fell on a small man approaching him from the shadows.
"There is no need to quiver, Haru-sempai," he said, rising to his feet and turning to face the man, who immediately fell to his knees. "I do not intend to harm you."
"Sh-Sh-Sh-Shukaku-sama," stammered the priest from the floor. "Your return to Suna is most g-g-g-gracefully acknowledged....how may I help you?"
The man, Shukaku, smiled at the priest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A priestess' job was distinct. Cook, clean, divine, sew and everything else the priests did not wish to sully themselves with. Priests chose the path of scripture, whereas priestesses were given the path of spirits - the one most likely to lead to insanity.
Sewing a lotus pattern into her fabric, the priestess Sayuki whispered the tune of a lullaby to herself. The howling of the storm had long since passed, leaving a kind of silence. Her mother sat opposite, patching kimonos and yawning.
A knock to the door rendered them both startled.
"Enter," was her mother's annoyed response, having dropped her thread across the floor towards the doorway.
Lowering her needle for a split second, Sayuki watched as one of the lower priestesses stepped inside, looking decidedly awkward in their presence. Although she held no real honours, being the sole child of a high priestess gained her a great deal of respect.
"What is it, onee-chan?" said the high priestess, curiosity dominating her wrinkled face.
The young woman blushed, having obviously never been directly addressed by her superior before.
"Shukaku-sama has returned from the north," she replied. "He requests a meeting with Sayuki-sama."
At these words, the high priestess dropped her sewing needle and her daughter rose from her chair.
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