Capítulo 22: PART 2.
In the gloom of his mind, the water enveloped him as far as the eye could not reach. He was floating in the dark, with the crystal clear water covering his ears.
Meditation had once been his escape from the world, a way to test his senses in times of danger. This feeling of floating, silent and cut off from the world, was as familiar to Sasuke as the sound of his enemies' blood dripping on the ground.
He let himself be carried deeper into the dark background as he slowly opened his eyes.
Remaining calm, without feeling any trace of uneasiness, Sasuke kept his face serene, cold, unperturbed. As if every night, when he fell asleep, he descended into the depths of the rivers of his subconscious.
His limbs floated, following the calm current of the bottom, and the weight of his body was felt with the passing of the seconds. The sound of bubbles in the water, along with the natural sounds of the surroundings and the brightness of the sun on the surface of the water, were the only things Sasuke could perceive.
I had experienced moments like this many times. Whether it was during his training with Orochimaru or in solo practice sessions, Sasuke always found comfort in solitude. When he woke up in such an environment, he felt proud that he had reached a certain level of tranquility in the midst of the bustle of the world.
However, I knew that this moment of peace would not last long. He would soon be interrupted, either because Kabuto knocked on the door or because his body sensed an external threat. This was another example of the maturity he had reached, in contrast to the servants of Orochimaru.
Throughout his encounters with the Sannin fans, he had hardly found a few. Excluding the first time he left Konoha and was in Orochimaru's hideouts, his confrontations with them were few. And when they did, few were able to face a fight that they themselves had provoked.
Only a few minutes could pass, and Sasuke would have already defeated his opponents without much effort. It was disappointing that individuals seemingly capable of reasoning for themselves did not realize that they were merely secondary characters in the lives of others. To Sasuke, he was much more powerful than them. Infinitely stronger.
Why couldn't the others comprehend that they were light years away from their strength level?
Perhaps if the world were less naïve and more gloomy, people would be able to perceive the misfortunes of others. Experiencing firsthand how hatred corrodes and transforms individuals into more resilient beings.
Sasuke hated living in such a world. He preferred to dive into the waters, where he could think calmly or just leave his mind blank, as time progressed and he became even more formidable.
In Sasuke's life, the only thing that mattered was one thing: to become more and more powerful.
"Strength is the deepest longing of the weak."
A soft, whispering voice echoed in the depths of his mind. Sasuke, aware of his control over his thoughts, turned his head to the left calmly. It was not the first time that a memory had filtered into his meditative state.
The Uchiha's onyx eyes remained impassive, though they were not devoid of attention. He was not alarmed, knowing how safe he was in his own mind. Without moving a muscle, he watched as a figure began to take shape from particles in the water.
Initially, the particles were tiny and shiny, almost looking like reflections in the water. However, as they moved with the current, the shape became more defined before Sasuke's expressionless eyes.
Although the figure was still blurred, it stood out from the darkness of the background. Curiously, a flash of color revived fragments of a past that he had thought forgotten.
Instead of facing the memories, Sasuke decided to take a closer look at the crystalline figure. The red of her clothing rippled with the movement of the water, slightly distorting its shape.
"But... What do the strong yearn for most?" The voice cleared in his ears.
Although the tone was more adult, it still resonated with familiarity in Sasuke's mind, piercing through the cloudy memories.
The words faded into his mind as soon as they had entered his ears.
The crystalline figure dissipated into the water, its pink and red slowly fading, as the person seemed to barely notice the presence of the Uchiha.
With bubbles gathering around him, Sasuke stood motionless as the female hands approached his face. Although he felt calm, it was an empty calm, as if he was used to the distant treatment of others.
Soft hands caressed her cheeks. Although he was submerged in the water, he could feel the delicate touch of bruised fingers. The touch numbed him, plunging him into the blurriness of fainting.
As her onyx eyes closed and her hair fluttered beneath the waves, something of the crystalline figure lightened in the face of a blinding glare.
The soft, clear lips of the unknown woman moved as if in a farewell to the young Avenger, who was about to awaken in the real world.
Before he fully closed his eyes, the unknown woman stopped his friendly attempt at inaudible communication. The only words Sasuke managed to hear echoed in the water.
"Oyasumí."
He woke up before he opened his eyes.
The ceiling above him quickly became clearer. Shadows danced in his room, indicating Sasuke's location.
He sat up on his bed, his expressionless gaze directed at the table next to the door. He was in one of Orochimaru's numerous hideouts, having chosen this room after leaving Kabuto behind.
He was silent for a few moments, his elbows resting on his knees.
Strange dreams were a common experience for Sasuke since he was seven years old. His family, the person he wanted to see dead... were the recurring themes of his dreams.
However, why dream of someone he considered to be past, something false, no longer existent or perhaps never existing?
The calm of the moment was interrupted. Although Sasuke tried to disconnect from that dream, his attention returned to him when the candlelight on the table caused the shadows in the room to move.
He frowned slightly. That was a reminder of a part of him that he thought he had left behind. Sasuke's unflappable expression returned as a memory resurfaced from the dust of his memories.
Red and pink were also present. Young people in an equally quiet life as Sasuke's, but more ignorant; prey to what they called "peace".
Peace...
Peace was ignorance. The annihilation of his clan was no longer remembered as such, because "peace" had fallen on beings lacking their own criteria.
The flickering of the candle flame caused Sasuke's eyes to squint for an instant.
From the atmosphere, it seemed that there was still a long way to go before the sun would rise.
Silence took over his subconscious. Sasuke stopped his self-analysis and meditation, and his gaze seemed clearer. He no longer showed such an empty expression.
Sasuke's expressions tended to vary little, with the only difference being the occasional frowning that he barely used, or the squinting of his eyes.
However, his attention on the candle was more than just meditation. It seemed to count how many times the flame moved or how much wax dripped.
If it weren't for that small candle, surely his sleep wouldn't have been disturbed.
Although he had nothing on his mind that could give him a clue as to the meaning of his dreams, he got out of bed and walked toward the table, footsteps echoing dryly in the closed room.
He paused in front of the table, watching it from above with a look that seemed effortlessly judging the small flame. The candle flickered as if questioning its own existence, leaning back and forth and obscuring Sasuke's countenance in the process.
A crescent shape manifested itself in the flame's movements, as if it was warning Sasuke, the last Uchiha, about the oncoming chaos.
But that flaming crescent was extinguished in the blink of an eye.
Sasuke's index finger and thumb came together at the tip of the candle, and the proof of the flame's existence faded between them.
Darkness enveloped the room.
(~~~)
Mirai inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with as much oxygen as she could. When she found herself plunged into darkness and her senses began to awaken, she opened her eyes wide, almost as if she could escape the blackness with just the strength of her gaze.
Sweat ran down her cheeks as she lay on her back, feeling the hardness of the ground beneath her.
As the crackling sound of the fire began to fill his ears, his vision gradually became clearer.
The dancing shadows cast by the flames drew whimsical shapes on the stone roof. Although there was an echo in the room, Mirai was unable to get up immediately, needing a few moments to orient herself as she stared straight up.
Eventually, he got up quickly, but the world began to spin around him. With a groan, he narrowed one eye and put a hand to his head.
"I feel my head heavy... And that buzzing doesn't stop bothering me." He murmured, as the pulsating throbbing on the left side of his skull seemed to be visible from the outside.
Trying to get her bearings, she turned her head in all directions, looking for some clue that might help her.
Mirai was in what appeared to be a cave or underground tunnel, with rocks the size of her head falling on her hair, as if trying to wake her from her dazed state.
Suddenly, he noticed a faint light coming from a candle, although he could not determine its origin. She was sheltered behind a small wall that provided some shade.
Just as she hurriedly got up to begin her search, a deep, clear voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Don't make noise. They are all asleep." The voice warned him. When Mirai turned to look at the person speaking, they let out a heavy sigh. "Always so hyperactive, right?"
"What? I..."
Mirai fell silent, confused by this sudden encounter after being attacked along with her team. Although she longed to run and scream to look for her younger companions, the old woman who sat in front of her, with her back to her, forced her to hold back her questions when she pointed at her with her eyes still fixed on the fire she stoked with nearby branches.
"The children are there, they don't seem to be injured. They're fine." The old woman reported.
"All of them?"
"Yes..."
The old woman looked over her shoulder at young Chunin, piercing eyes that seemed to scan her soul. For an instant, the intense gaze made Mirai hesitate.
"You were the first to wake up." The old woman murmured in a low voice. After holding the girl's gaze for a few seconds, he realized the distrust he was generating. He turned his attention to the campfire. "What are you doing standing there? Go see them and stop wasting your time."
Mirai swallowed, opening her eyes wide as she shrugged. She felt uncomfortable with this encounter, ignoring the warnings of her instinct.
A light of uncertainty flashed into his eyes as he hesitated with his first step, dividing his attention between the old woman and the direction he had been directed.
After a few more glances, he left the fear behind and advanced through the shadows of the stone corridor. His footsteps echoed loudly as he ran, filling the space with echo, and he strained his eyes to see better when he recognized that he had reached the end of the hallway.
"Shikadai?! Namida-chan!"
Despite calling them, he received no response from any of the children. At the end of the corridor, he found a kind of corner with some scattered rocks. An inverted "u" structure appeared to be the entrance, barely illuminated by the light of the flames, as Mirai was standing, casting her shadow over the place.
He let out a sigh of surprise when he recognized one of the bodies lying on the ground. Blinking, he walked over without hesitation and inspected the sleeping child.
Metal Lee breathed peacefully, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His face showed a neutral expression, oblivious to his situation.
The Chunin ran a hand over young Lee's face, brushing a strand of his bangs aside.
That child who was recently full of worries, now slept peacefully, bringing a sense of calm to Mirai's mind.
Noticing this, she contemplated the silhouettes that she was gradually identifying.
"They're all sleeping..." She said to herself. "Everyone is breathing. They are alive!"
Mirai paused for a moment, then after taking a deep breath, she dropped down, releasing the bitter weight she had been accumulating on her chest.
He put a hand to his heart, and the sweat that had been gushing out now was evidence of his past distress.
"What a relief...! All... They're fine." She sighed, relieved, her voice trembling as she closed her eyes. "Thank heavens... How...?"
"The poles crossed." She heard the same voice behind her.
The old woman was sitting in the same place where Mirai had found her, so hunched over that it formed a lump on her back. With her eyes closed, she stared at the bonfire endlessly, allowing the silence to give Mirai a moment of reflection.
"Someone from the 'Now' intervened against someone from the 'After.' The old woman continued, her tone disinterested. "You and that man are from different times. We call that 'The Crossing Poles'."
The crackling of the bonfire caused a slight shudder in Mirai. He looked at her attentively, like a prey hanging on its hunter.
The old woman's comment was more like a nudge than an aid to understanding. Mirai half understood and swallowed hard as she tried to control her sweat. She used the silence as an opportunity to reflect and took one last look at the children before focusing on what she had to say.
People of the "Now". People of the "After".
What had happened before waking up in this place?
Mirai slowly rose from the ground, staring blankly into space.
"That's true... We were attacked and then I lost consciousness." Reviewing in his mind what had happened, he glanced sideways at the old woman. "How did we get here?"
A drop of sweat ran down her forehead as she tried to appear calm when she heard the old woman's words.
People of the "After".
Considering what those men had said, now three people mentioned the same thing; or at least, that made Mirai come to that conclusion.
"You and that man are from different times."
"This woman..." Mirai thought. "Do you really know what you're talking about? His condescending attitude implies that he is aware that we do not belong here...!"
The Sarutobi's brow furrowed.
What should I do now?
A whirlwind of emotions stirred inside him, while the crackle of the campfire continued to sound.
When was the last time Mirai let her guard down? Under the circumstances, it was understandable, but isn't it supposed to be the other way around?
If instead of the old woman there was a ruthless criminal without conscience, she would already be dead.
How was she brought here, along with everyone else?
Mirai swallowed again and summoned the courage that her fainting had taken from her to address the old woman, albeit a little hesitantly.
"W-Who are you? And how did he get us here?" His voice barely managed to get out, echoing through the stone walls. "What happened to us?"
"Jo?" The old woman opened her eyes with a slight shudder, looking at the teenager with extreme strangeness. "If even you don't know, how do you expect me to answer you?"
Mirai hesitated on her feet.
"I... I don't know..." She murmured, squeezing the chest of her Cunin vest.
The old lady leaned forward, expecting to hear the red-eyed young woman. However, Mirai was exhausted.
Sweat left marks on the ground as Mirai watched it, allowing all the accumulated emotions to go away with the salt water in her body.
The older woman watched as the young woman put both hands to her cheeks, the darkness gathering in her eyes. Now he was someone blank, with an unknown goal. I was simply following someone else's orders...
Because he's a ninja from Konoha. Everyone is supposed to be loyal to each other...
All...
"Ah...!"
Mirai gasped for air, catching the old woman off guard. La Sarutobi touched her sides with her own hands, then her pockets. Not finding what she was looking for, Mirai looked at the confused old woman in alarm.
"My things!! Where's my stuff?!"
"Your things?" The woman observed. "Is it a cape or a vest?"
"Hai!"
The woman pointed behind him. Mirai had already started running to the other end of the tunnel. The place where he had woken up was exactly the same as the place where the children were. It wasn't until she bent down to rummage through the layers that she began to see her surroundings.
The underground tunnel had no place to exit. There's no way out, how could that old lady bring them here?
He turned his attention away from the old woman with his back turned, and continued his search among his things. He got what he was looking for: His clothing for the cold.
He unfolded it, and put his hands through the pockets of his waistcoat. But the emptiness of them was a tone of alarm for her.
"Where...? Where is he?!" He shouted in his mind. "It can't have disappeared. You can't!"
The image of Tanaka-san's face was engraved in his mind. She couldn't afford to lose the small bag that, to her, was more valuable than anything, even more than the compass that rested in one of the pockets of her yellow vest.
Losing that bag was not an option. I couldn't allow it.
"Excuse me!"
A flash interrupted her.
Still with her back turned towards Mirai, the old woman held something between her fingers. Mirai held back from asking, bewildered by the strange scene.
On the woman's fingers, a small sphere glowed with an inner light. It was a beautiful glow, but not dazzling. Its white, almost lavender-tinged color had an ethereal glow to it.
Mirai stood motionless, staring at the small bright spot that had captured her attention.
His gaze slowly descended until he saw what the woman had next to him.
A small bag... similar to the one Tanaka-san had given him.
"Don't let anyone see what's inside this bag! No one, under any circumstances!"
"That...!"
"Anyway, I was going to help them." The old woman interrupted her in a condescending tone. "This is my territory, I don't tolerate violence. But this..."
Mirai stood up, feeling a little bewildered by the old lady's words. He slowly approached behind her, trying to understand what was going on.
He stopped right behind the old lady, looking over her shoulder. Then he noticed the look of concern on his face.
Although the old lady didn't look directly at her, she knew that Mirai was there. I knew I could speak without fear now.
"Tell me something, young lady..." The old woman murmured with her head lowered, clutching the glowing sphere in her hand. "You and those children... They're not from here, are they?"
"Huh?"
With a confused answer, the old lady took the bag and offered it to Mirai, who was paralyzed at the revelation.
"The reason you fainted was because of the theft of Chakra." The woman explained. "And the others fainted due to the impact of the fall here, when my subordinates rescued them."
"Subordinates?" Mirai muttered to herself, as she held the bag in her hands. She opened the bag carefully, looking at its contents with fascination. "What does all this mean...?"
Mirai was stunned, not knowing how to answer the previous question. Inside the bag, he found the same glowing marbles that the old lady held in her hand. She was perplexed, not knowing what to think.
"When I asked them to bring their things, my intention was to take care of them until they woke up and then let them go." The old woman's tone was somber. "But when they found this, and their headbands, I knew I couldn't just let them go like that."
Mirai was speechless at the old lady's words. What was that old woman trying to tell him?
In his hands he had the last order of a superior, the last will of a fellow before they went their separate ways.
Mirai had crossed the desert with her squad, not knowing who they would meet. How could I know if I was with the right person? Even she herself, would take the same precautions as Mirai. After all, she wasn't the only one who wanted to stay alive.
"You... Be... 'The Great Old Woman'?" Mirai asked, facing the silence with determination, despite the heavy air around him.
"..."
Although the icy silence dragged on, Mirai didn't regret asking the question. He decided to ignore the trembling in his body and focus on taking in what was happening.
He held in his hands an alien will, one that surely still stood in favor of Mirai and the others. The trip to the past and that scroll were not improvised events.
Everything was planned. Therefore, it was strange that Tanaka-san didn't know the contents of the bag, considering that he himself had warned Mirai not to give it to anyone other than "The Great Old Woman".
"Um." The woman made a sound that Mirai interpreted as an affirmation, although it sounded disinterested. "Great old woman. Meh, it's not that old either."
"So..."
"Yes, I am." The woman confirmed, this time with a firmer tone that sent a shiver down the Sarutobi's spine. "And you... it seems that you have a lot to tell me, 'Great young lady'."
The playful tone sounded out of place, especially considering that the woman radiated serenity and melancholy as she watched the squad with an almost imperturbable gaze.
Although the old lady had wrinkles, they were not excessive. He turned his eyes to the teenager, who was still holding the bag with the unknown contents, dumbfounded. The woman's eyes were black, but with a sheen almost like a mirror.
Age did not allow him to open them completely, but he still managed to cast a piercing glance at the young woman.
Mirai kept her hands on her chest as she watched the woman move in her seat on the floor. Among her belongings, the old lady rummaged until the clanging sound resonated slightly, and then half-heartedly held out a small metal cup toward Mirai.
The cup was accompanied by a small metal teapot, suspended by a thin improvised bar hooked to one end of the teapot. Mirai opened her mouth, unable to find words at the silence the old woman offered her.
"Let's drink. You are the first person from the outside, that I see after many years." The old woman invited casually. His patience and wisdom seemed to flow with the simplicity of the old days. "They say that tea invokes inner peace and opens dialogue between people... But personally, I prefer coffee for good conversation."
Mirai watched as the old woman gave him a half-smile.
"And you? Don't you agree?"
Estado de energía semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Piedra de
Poder