Chapter Text
Yumie’s breathing is even and quiet as she runs through the trees toward a clearing ahead. The blood in her veins is thrumming with adrenaline and the knowledge she is about to win this little game of cat and mouse. When she reaches the clearing she slows her pace to a slow walk, takes cover behind an ancient oak, and does a cursory search for the target. He’s there alright, right smack-dab in the middle of the clearing, just like the tip said.
Once he’s in sight, she doesn’t hesitate a second longer and dashes into the clearing, making a beeline for the target. By the time he senses her presence closing in and looks up, it’s too late. She tackles him sideways and pins him in the small daisy patch before he can raise his arms to defend himself.
“I caught you, Naoki!” she yells in triumph.
“Wha- Yumie?” Naoki sputters from where his face is pressed to the ground. “How did you find me? Did Mom tell you?”
“No, Mom wouldn’t tell me. I asked your girlfriend,”
“Since when did Emi side with you?” Naoki groans.
“Since I promised to tell her your embarrassing stories,” she taunts. Naoki snaps upright into a sitting position, throwing Yumie off of him.
“No, you didn’t,” he says fearfully, even though his face says that he knows the answer.
“Yes, I did,” she returns smugly.
“That’s a dirty trick,”
“You said anything goes as long as I beat you,” Naoki scowls at having his words thrown back at him.
“Please, Yumie,” Naoki pleads desperately, “anything but the wasabi incident.”
“Well,” Yumie laughs, “since you’re so desperate, I won’t tell her about the wasabi incident… as long as you finally admit defeat.” Naoki’s face darkens again, but after a moment of consideration towards the pickle he’s in, he concedes.
“Fine,” he sighs in defeat even though he’s suppressing a small smile, “you got me.”
“And…?” She prompts.
“You win and are, obviously, the better shinobi of the two of us,” he recites dutifully.
“Yes!” Yumie cheers, “A year and he finally admits it!”
“Only cause you blackmailed me, little sister,” Naoki reminds, grinning from ear to ear.
“Hey! I’m not little,” she huffs.
“You’re six,” he retorts, then pauses, and promptly bursts out in hysterical laughter.
“Why are you laughing?” Yumie tries to demand but is too busy giggling herself.
“My six-year-old sister blackmailed me!” He crows, “Me! An eighteen-year-old shinobi!” Yumie tackles him to the ground again, this time to try and shut him up. “You’re a better shinobi than I am and you’re not even out of the academy!”
“Stop laughing!” Naoki, in fact, does not stop laughing, he starts coughing. Yumie’s got Naoki laughing so hard, he started to cough. She smacks him in the arm but he just keeps choking on his own humor. Eventually, he coughs hard enough for something to spew from his mouth and splat on her face.
“Ew!” She screeches while swiping at her face, “Why'd you spit on me?”
When she glances down at the hand she used to clean her face, it's red. Red like scraped knees and paper cuts. Her head snaps up to Naoki who's still coughing, not on laughter anymore but blood. It flows past his lips and down his jaw and splatters on the beautiful daisies next to his head. The red color painting them the more he coughs and coughs.
She’s on her feet and screaming into the trees for help within an instant. Her hands come up to cup her mouth and she almost stabs her eye out with a katana wearing matching blood to her brother’s now fitting snugly in her hand.
Yumie screams and tries to drop it but it’s glued to her shaking palms. She claws at it with her other hand, but no amount of force releases it. Her eyes find Naoki on the ground again, and he’s stopped coughing- stopped moving altogether. There is a slit cut across his jugular and his warm eyes are now cold and glassed over.
The scenery of the dream shifts to a different memory and now Naoki lies on his bedroom floor instead of the old forest's clearing. The light from the moon through the window drapes his lifeless body in a blanket of white light as screams outside serenade his send-off.
The body Yumie is in now is older, taller, and much stronger than before. She can feel it as she moves through houses killing others the same as her brother. The feeling of slight resistance of muscle and bone before it gives to her katana echoes. The smell of metal in the air stings. Everything is colored red. Her hand, clothes, and hair down to her waist are stained with it. The katana and the floor the bodies hit after methodical strikes weep with it.
She wakes up screaming.