She only made it out of direct view of her clanmates before she goes to slump on a rock, not trusting herself not to accidentally fall off a cliff and into the water below. But as she goes to bury her face into her hands, she's instead met with her shoulder’s limited motion and another dull ache to remind her her limb is missing, and Hamonike just about lets out a frustrated sob.

  Kiriken comes over moments after.

  “Can I sit next to you?”

  Hamonike folds both knees to her chest, curling up on her rock and burying her face down to her knees instead. Without an answer he merely remains standing. The rain drums down her backside, puddling at her feet.

  “…. Go on. Yell at me. Tell me I shouldn’t have done that.” She mutters finally to break the silence.

  “Why would I need to yell at you? You hear perfectly fine. And you don’t need me to tell you that, you’re smart Hamonike, you just said it yourself that you know you shouldn’t have done that.” Kiriken pointed out. She understands why he was reassigned to be her mentor. He’s patient, logical, levelheaded no matter what she says or does, he’s the suppression to Hamonike’s attempts to set everything, even herself, on fire.

  But she misses her old mentor, just like she misses how a lot of how things used to be. They had been first matched because the two had been considered kindred spirits, both lightning strikes amongst the rainfall. Fast, high energy. Hamonike was a promising apprentice, if just in need of constant tasks, attention, things to keep her busy or she’d find things to keep herself busy. They even liked so many of the same things, the same favourite prey to hunt, she had been learning how to use a kusarigama, a long chain and sickle weapon that one used to grapple and stun their foe before slicing in with the sickle.

  She had been the coolest person Hamonike had known, the best mentor ever.

  And a horrible influence for Hamonike’s impatience and temper, it would turn out, after she had healed enough from losing to her arm to continue her training. On top of that original need she had become- difficult was the word that had started getting tossed around. Sometimes when her clanmates thought she wasn't listening, she'd hear them say that it was such a shame she wasn't that promising apprentice anymore, such a shame that she wasn't the same afterwards.

  Really, was anyone the same after Arashidoro’s death?

  Hamonike was difficult enough that simply after a training session --she remembered it well, she'd been foolish enough to think had actually had gone well and that she was finally making progress again-- the shinobi had simply gone to their clan elders and forfeited her position to be the young shadow hunter’s mentor. And nobody had listened when she had screamed and cried insisting she isn't trying to be difficult, she really swears she isn't, but her anger claws its way from her mouth with the desperation of a small prey animal fighting to escape the maws of a larger predator.

  “I hate Kitoge.” She mutters through her sleeve.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  It’s not like she hates Kiriken either, he’s....fine. But he doesn’t let that temper run rampant, and sometimes that just makes her feel even angrier. The elders had insisted he and the change of mentorship wasn't a punishment, but sometimes she really did feel like he and the change was just that, a punishment.

  “We do not hate our clanmates, Hamonike.” He says with a firm tone. Life on Jargala is hard enough with us at each other’s throats, she hears go unsaid, because he knows she knows and has heard it a hundred times. Jargala is a world of predators and scarcity periods, it is savage and it is unkind, and to survive they band together in clans, fighting, hunting, surviving together.

  “Well she certainly hates me!” She huffed sharply.

  “You’re mistaking both of your hurt for hatred… I take it that’s what escalated you two to fight?”

  Hamonike raises her gaze just a little bit, and finally she just mumbled a confirmation.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Her fangs clench together as her mouth tightens, despite the downpour around them, her barbed tongue feels dry. The offer has been made before, multiple people have tried to “talk to her about it”. What even is there to talk about? Talking would not make her arm regrow. It won’t make Arashidoro come back. It won’t make her any less of a problem. So no, she doesn’t want to talk about it, she doesn’t even want to think about it.

  So she hisses at him instead, fangs baring at him, his face is about as unchanging as the rock she’s sat on and she feels her guts twist with anger that he doesn't shout and hiss back, and regret immediately that he wastes that understanding on her of all shadow hunters.

  “Hamonike, I promise your clan wants to help you get through this. I want to help you. But you need to let us. We can’t help you if you won’t help us help you.”

  “I don’t need your help. I don’t need any of your help! If he hadn’t tried to help me, he’d still be alive!” She gets up from her rock, shaking the water off herself, tied up hair whipping back and forth before she promptly marches in the direction of the training grounds, each stomp splashing in the abundant puddles, knowing he will not be far behind. She sticks to the branches, even if she has to go the long way around. Stupid cliffs. Stupid clan.

  Hamonike doesn't need the clan because the clan does not need her. It would be better off without her, even, and she'd be better off without it.

  "Hamonike," Kiriken suddenly calls out. She ignores him, already bracing to jump to a cliff. "HAMONIKE."

  She stumbles, claws gripping the branch as her eyes widen. Did- he just yell at her? Was he FINALLY yelling at her? She looked back at him, not sure if it was to gloat or yell back, not that she got to decide seeing his eyes wide, his expression more fearful than angry. What was he even looking at?

  She yelped when the tree she was under suddenly lurched downwards, a loud sound of mud and water sucking the roots out of the cliff. Sometimes trees as they died, their roots rotted and the tree would fall away. But... she knows to check for rotting trees before she climbs, the leaves are full and lush, the bark is firmly attached to the tree. She smells no rot.

  The cliff itself gives away with a groan and rumble, as more and more water floods over it. More water than she knows is supposed to be normal, even for the rainforest.

  "KIRIKEN-" She tries to scramble back the way she came, branches snapping around her as the flood sweeps away the tree.

  "JUMP!"

  She does, claw extending to try and grab his outstretched grasp. She misses, for a split second she sees his claws try and grasp her clothes, the tie around the stump of her shoulder. Hamonike instead collides painfully with the rocky face below, unable to grasp it with her one hand. She tumbles down further, splashing into the roaring current that swallows her up greedily.