My Weakness, Your Strength (Private, CrypticWater)

Why was it always her?

She never liked to revel in it; the fact that she was so different and pushed around because of it. As if shoving, punching, kicking, yelling and sneering could knock the weirdness right out of her. She despised all of the other children in this place, and wanted so badly to get out. But it wasn't as simple as that. The only way she could leave was to become a shinobi, and her choice wasn't even considered in the matter. On the other hand, she did like the idea of moving into a place of her own after she became a Genin. Afterwards though, the village would have her fight other people. Such was a ninja's duty.

Outside it was mild weather, a nice change from the usual stifling heat that Konohagakure boasted during the summer. The sun was shining dimly in the sky; masked partially by some clouds overhead. All of the orphanage's children were playing in the yard, as always, laughing and launching pretend kunai at one another. Excited chatter was starting up that they would be joining the Academy soon, and thus all of the kids were in high spirits. All except one. Chikami kept to herself in the far corner of the yard; seated cross-legged beneath one of the large trees that bordered the orphanage's grounds. Her observant indigo eyes locked onto each child's movements, making sure that she was in no immediate danger of being threatened. So far today was a good day. Even the orphanage matrons had been in a good mood and hadn't scolded her yet. There should certainly be added emphasis on the 'yet'. The other children seemed to be so wrapped up in their own games that the purple-haired weirdo was no more than a shadow to them; nothing to take notice of.

Needless to say, she was thankful for it. Finally feeling secure enough in her surroundings, the girl picked up the leather-bound book that had been placed in her lap. Its front cover was very worn and the old leather was peeling in places, but the title was still somewhat legible; 'Yukihiko and the Magic Forest'. This book was one of her favourites, and one that the orphanage owned, making it easier for her to hold onto it and read it from cover to cover as many times as she wished. It detailed the story of a young girl who stumbled upon an enchanted forest one day, and her adventures within the beautiful woodland. And just like her other favourite stories, it had a happy ending.

"Hey! Freak-for-brains!" The all-too familiar bellow resounded within her ears with a sharp sting. Chikami visibly flinched and slowly looked up from the page she was reading of the magical novel, only to be met with the familiar sight of a gang marching towards her. As always, they were led by none other than a boy only known as Buta. His real name was unknown, apart from to the orphanage matrons, and he insisted of being called by this alias which translated to 'pig'. And he truly was one. A brute of a boy, he was thick-set with stocky limbs and a mangled-looking face. His eyes were small, black and beady, while his nose was huge and his mouth was set in a permanent arrogant smirk. He had a few short tufts of typical brown hair, about the only normal-looking thing about him. And yet he insisted on calling Chikami the freak. In her mind, the girl always thought of things she wanted to say back. Mean things, awful things; just like he said to her. But she could never vocalise her feelings.

Her eyes went wide and she slammed her book shut, setting it aside and scrambling nervously to her feet. She could already feel her body shaking, wincing almost constantly as she tried to prepare herself for what was to come. [color=#666600"Don't think you can escape us today, you weirdo. We'll always find time to put you in your freakish place."[/color] He sneered, and Chikami couldn't help squeaking softly while taking a small step backwards. She felt the punch slam into her shoulder and gasped, biting her tongue at the impact and tasting blood. "P-Please..." She whimpered, her voice pathetic and on varying pitches already. Buta and his posse started to howl with laughter; they always found it positively hilarious when she begged for them not to hurt her. "W-What did I d-do th-this time?..." She stumbled backwards against the tree when the bully advanced towards her. The whole gang laughed hysterically at that reaction.

"Why do you need to do anything for us to hate you and your weird ways?" He laughed cruelly, spotting the book left discarded on the floor. He started to move towards it, and Chikami's eyes widened. What was he going to do it? His booted foot slammed down onto the cover of the book, and he continued to ruin the beautiful novel; one of few that managed to help the girl escape this world when it was particularly rough. She felt tears start burning in her eyes as her hands started shaking violently. "N-No... stop that... it's an old book, a p-precious book!" She tried to insist, and she felt herself being shoved hard against the tree by one of Buta's cronies. "Shut it, freak!" The boy taunted her, and at that hurtful word, all of his friends started joining in.

"Freak, freak, freak, freak!" The chanting seemed to echo and go on forever, and finally, the tears started to spill down her cheeks. 'Why?... why do they do this to me?... I can't help being different... I don't... I don't have the courage... please...' She closed her eyes and lowered her head, feeling her body go weak while trembling, collapsing under the weight of the abuse being pressed down on her. 'Someone... have the courage for me...'

Word Count: 987

Takeshi frowned as he stood amongst the shade of the old building that served as the local orphanage. The boy hadn't been here long yet he already held a strong disdain for the place. He hated what it stood for and more importantly he hated how it served as a constant reminder of his current situation Your parents are gone. It was a sobering thought to say the least. How many times had the young child awoke in the dead of night with sweat running down his face and eyes wide with fear. How many times had he cried out for his mother only to realize that there was no one to answer him. No one aside from the other children who mocked his tears and pain. Why? It didn't make sense to him. Weren't they just like him? It didn't seem to matter in this place. Survival of the fittest hidden in an openly accepted form. The bigger and stronger kids ruled while the small, weaker children were ground into dust. Not him! He wasn't about to let himself be bullied if he had anything to say about it. He had been pushed around too much in his old life and he wasn't about to let it happen again. These were the thoughts that ran through the male's mind as his greenish blue hues followed the posse of four that made their way toward a rather frail looking girl. Already Takeshi felt his blood boiling as their taunting commenced. What was their problem? Had they nothing better to do than pick on that poor wretch of a child?

"Buttheads..."

The words slipped quietly from the boy's lips as he slowly approached the group. Their words cut clear across the yard, easy to understand in the backdrop of the surrounding cacophony of voices. Predictably, the largest boy lead the charge. No doubt his size combined with his foul attitude was the reason for his apparent position as leader. Takeshi watched as the scene unfolded before him and though the more he watched the faster his rage rose, his pace remained steady, his approach a slow one. It wasn't until the girl was forcefully shoved and the chanting began that Takeshi finally reached his destination. Without hesitation the boy's arm came up, his hand tapping gently on the larger boy's shoulder in a ploy to gain his attention. The tactic seemed to work as the one known as Buta turned his attention away from the girl, his fat face swiveling on his neck as his chubby form turned just enough to allow for the pudgy child to glance at the one whom had touched him. No warning was given. Just as the child's beady black orbs met Takeshi's own, a firm fist connected hard with Buta's nose, smashing the cartilage in a single blow and causing a spurt of blood to quickly flow from both nostrils.

In that moment the chanting stopped as Buta stumbled backwards, his head seemingly spinning from the impact. Not missing this opportunity to strike again, Takeshi lunged forward, his eyes wide and teeth gritted with rage as he cocked his arm back for another firm strike.

"Leave her alone!"

The words came in the form of a large snarl moments before another punch was thrown, this one connecting squarely with Buta's cheek, causing his head to jerk in the direction in which the force was directed. Though Takeshi was far from done he'd never get the chance for another follow up strike. Before the boy could react he felt both his arms suddenly restrained as two of Buta's gang suddenly latched on to both arms; one stealing the movement from the right and the other from the left. As if that wasn't enough another set of arms moved up and around Takeshi's neck, locking him in a firm headlock that nearly cut off the boy's air supply. The very act of breathing was a struggle at this point and try as he might, Takeshi found himself unable to break the firm hold of Buta's three cronies. "What's your problem?!" One of the boys voices echoed in Takeshi's ear as his greenish blue orbs glared angrily at the bleeding Buta whom by this time had recovered from the two sudden punches and was quickly making his way toward his restrained form. A low growl would escape Takeshi's throat moments before he felt the sudden impact of a fist slamming hard into his unguarded gut. Had the boy not been restrained he'd have bent forward in an effort to hold the pained area while shielding it from further assault. Unfortunately his body remained relatively still, his gut still unguarded as the fat child before him threw yet another punch in the exact same area. "You stupid momma's boy! You think you can hit me like that and get away with it!?" A third punch was delivered, then a fourth then suddenly...

"Uck!"

Takeshi felt as though his esophagus had suddenly grown short and in the next moment a yellowish liquid was suddenly pouring from his mouth, both on the ground and toward Buta. The vomit shot forward, covering the large child before eventually dribbling onto the ground and all over the front of Takeshi's clothes. Instantly he felt all arms release him as the children around him suddenly stepped away. "Ew gross!" "Get away from him!" "You sicko!" Takeshi felt himself sink down to his hands and knees, kneeling in his own vomitus as the four boys stared down at him in a disgusted manner. "Come on, let's go. We're done with these freaks." With that the group was gone. Several moments would pass before Takeshi would manage to gather himself enough to speak, his hand moving shakily toward the book before weakly pushing it toward the girl.

"Here...."

The tears continued to flow, frustrated and bitter, just like her life within the orphanage. Her breathing was shallow while she tried to keep her sobs under wraps; Buta and his gang loved making her cry and beg for mercy. They never listened to her. Usually, they would continue teasing her until they had given her enough blows to sink to the ground and then they would leave. Something about today was different.

Out of nowhere, a blonde boy appeared and smashed his fist straight into Buta's nose. All the children present stood with their mouths open, gaping like fish and unbelieving of what had just occurred. Someone had fought back... against the biggest bully there was here. And what for? He seemed to have no reason except for disliking how they were treating Chikami. The strange boy struck the pig-like bully again, crying at him to leave her alone. Her eyes widened in shock, the tears briefly suspended as she allowed this to sink in. No-one had ever stepped in for her before. This was an entirely new experience. The heroic boy slammed Buta again in the jaw, and all the purple-haired girl could do was watch in sheer awe. Her eyes shimmered softly as she watched in admiration, unable to believe what was happening right in front of her. It seemed too good to be real, after all.

The gang finally gathered their senses, however, and wrangled the boy into submission for their boss to advance on him in return. When Buta recovered from the beating he had been dealt, he started to attack the stranger, going right for the stomach. His assault continued until the strange boy vomited from the heavy impact, which was fortuetous in a strange way. The gang decided that it was gross, and they started to flee. After Buta's cronies let go of him, the boy sunk to his knees, looking defeated and worn out from the heavy blows to his stomach. And yet despite that, he turned his attention to the partially ruined book and pushed it towards Chikami, insisting that she take it.

She looked at him with her steady indigo eyes, slowly reaching forward for the book which he had pushed towards her. Slowly, she looked down at the novel and tenderly brushed it off to remove the dirt from its cover where Buta had been stomping on it. She held it close to her chest as if to determine whether it was real or not, and then gently laid it down beside her to focus on her saviour. If not for him, she would have been beaten much worse, and the book would have been destroyed.

After quite the lengthy pause, she shyly directed her eyes at him and cleared her throat before speaking. "Th-Th... Thank you..." She murmured to him, slowly inching closer to him in spite of the vomit that covered his clothes and the ground in front of him. She reached into one of the pockets of her cardigan to pull out a small white handkerchief that she used to gingerly brush at the vomit that covered his mouth. "I-If you hadn't stepped in... they would have hurt me more..." She whispered while she continued to clean him up, her hand still shaking slightly from her earlier ordeal. After wiping his face, she moved the small white cloth to his neck and wherever else it had touched his skin. It was pointless trying to scrub his clothes where his vomit had soaked in already, so she didn't pay much attention to that.

"Why... why did you help me though?" Her meek voice asked, lowering her head to look at him through her purple bangs that shadowed her eyes. "I don't even think we've m-met before..." She pointed out, lowering her handkerchief and flinching as she moved her arm away from him. It was a bad habit she had when it came to people.

Word Count: 658
Total Word Count: 1645

Hearing the words of gratitude, Takeshi could only offer a small nod of understanding. The pain was too great to force a smile, but despite that he found himself happy at the fact that he had perhaps acted correctly in the heat of the moment. Barely managing to hold himself up on his hands and knees, the boy was unable to really resist at the small female before him began to inch forward, handkerchief in hand. The boy tried to shake his head in protest as he commanded his form to move away; an action his body was not yet ready to perform. Still he remained as the girl's gentle touch graced his dirty face, the pure white piece of cloth staining itself with the yellow sludge that had poured from his mouth only moments ago. Again she spoke, her words gentle and weak as she tried to make sense of what had just happened? Why had he jumped in when he did? He didn't know her. The two had never met before. He had seen her around the orphanage, but the two had never spoken to one another. A small grunt escaped the child's throat as he tried to find his voice. She wanted an answer and he had one to give, though his body struggled to speak.

"I...hate bullies..."

It was as simple as that. Or was it? Takeshi had watched for years as his mother's personality had been worn down day after day by the cruel words and treatment of others. He had watched it drain her of life and seen the end effect of it all. What if someone had stepped in? What if someone had had the courage to stand up for not only her but him as well? Wouldn't things have been different then? Wouldn't she still be here today? Was it possible for the two of them to still be together? What if things had been different? These were questions that had plagued the small boy ever since he had been taken away from that house. His mother's lifeless eyes still stared at him in the dead of night. Every time he closed his eyes he saw them. They never once shifted away. They had seemed to follow him, staring at him in an almost accusing manner. Was it because she had expected him to stand up for her? It didn't seem right but perhaps rather than waiting and hoping for someone else to have had the courage to defend him and his mother, he should have been the one to step forward. The thought brought tears to his eyes, tears that stung at those greenish blue hues that remained directed downward, avoiding the girl's indigo orbs. He didn't know the answers to his own questions. He'd perhaps never know but at the very least he could do his best to make sure the events he had witnessed didn't repeat themselves.

"...so much..."

The words came out strained as he tried his best to speak clearly through the pain. Slowly his head lifted, his eyes staring up at her face despite the watery film that coated them. That was a mistake. It seemed just as he had looked up that the dam that had been keeping his tears at bay threatened to break. Luckily just as the emotional wave nearly hit him the shrill sound of one of the matron's voices cut through the air. Turning immediately, Takeshi's eyes fell on the woman's form as she moved quickly toward the two, her hand firmly grasping the boy by the arm to pull him to his feet as she made sure to try and keep him steady. "Takeshi! Let's get you inside." The words carried a mixture of concern and anger. No doubt the boy was in trouble. As Takeshi's eyes slowly drifted from the woman he spotted Buta in the hands of another matron, his bloodied face obviously having attracted the matrons' attention. Without a word, Takeshi's eyes slowly drifted back toward the girl in front of him before he was suddenly ushered away and toward the building where his form along with that of Buta disappeared behind the thick wooden doors.

It was only after she had asked the question of why the stranger had helped her that she realised that he must be tired. Exhausted and in pain. Sometimes she just didn't even think straight. Usually she didn't even speak to anyone, what was bringing on this sudden gush of words (at least by her standards)? She was unsure, but at least a little bit certain that it was due to him helping her in the time of need she faced. She watched the boy's face while he seemed to struggle to respond, feeling bad that she had even asked anything of him. His words seemed to hit home to her.

Why, she hated bullies too. So very much. But she never had the courage to stand up to them. While she admired this boy, she would actually never copy his actions. After all, he had been beaten up until he vomited; that wasn't a fate that she wished to share with him. Selfish of her? Perhaps so. She was sick of bullies, but not sick enough to make things worse for her by standing up and fighting back. That, and she was nowhere near strong enough to do any damage like the boy was. He had probably broken Buta's nose. "I hate them too..." She murmured, lowering her soiled handkerchief to the ground and leaving it there at her feet. A loud gulp sounded as she tried to swallow back further tears, sniffing softly and looking at her currently injured companion. "They always pick on me because I'm not like them... I hate them... I hate them so much..." She made sure to remain quiet, just in case anyone else heard her aside from the boy.

That wouldn't end well for her if Buta and his gang caught word of her little speech.

"But that doesn't mean that I have the courage to face them... you do... so th-thank you..." She said, her voice shaky and yet very genuine. It had been a very emotion-filled day, after all, and she found herself to be rather tired just from watching the whole ordeal and receiving her own share of beatings. Bruising was already forming where she had been pummeled by the piggish bully, but she chose to ignore it. There wasn't an occasion where she was actually without bruises anyway.

She flinched when she heard the harsh voice of the matron calling out to a boy named Takeshi; the boy knelt beside her. She looked up as the stern-faced woman seized him by his arm and started to drag him back to the orphanage. Of course she wasn't even noticed. But that suited her just fine. She watched him until the door shut behind him and the matrons with Buta, before slowly lowering her gaze once more. 'Takeshi, huh?...' She thought softly, almost tenderly if she could comprehend such an emotion. 'I mustn't forget his name... so brave...' She got to her feet slowly, picking up her book and gathering her other small belongings from around her spot at the tree. Without much of a rush, she started to make her way inside to return to her room which was shared with six other girls. She paused on the stairs, looking into the dining area that the orphanage sported. Her ears picked up on the mean, harsh tone of the matron who had taken Takeshi inside. A hand reached into one of her pockets and she pulled out a small black marker pen; a permanent one.

With it, she scrawled what may seem like nonsense. A hasty tale, about how a young prince saved a helpless princess in spite of the consequences. It was her own way of returning the favour, as within the next hour she was dragged down from her room by the ear, being shouted at for her vandalism.

Yes, she thought as she was scrubbing at the wall with bleach and other chemicals to try and remove the marker pen scrawls, it was her own weird way of repayment.