erode

Sakura has been assigned Tazuna duty, not that she particularly minds anymore. The boys still have yet to master the tree walking exercise, so Kakashi will stay with them until ten-hundred hours before bringing them to the burial grounds. Currently, it was half past oh-nine-hundred hours, roughly three hours after they had all gotten up and split for the morning. She had to admit, she was a little jittery. On the islands, when there is a second burning day, the fire that lights the first torch is always a different color. The exact shade determines the state of things that caused such a mass burning. Sakura knows that for Uzushio, it was a bright, wicked green. Greed. With unexplainable flashes of an ugly, dirty brown. Backstabbing. She still remembers the day that Ayumi-obaa-san had told her the tale; just a few months after Sakura's parents had passed. The old woman's eyes had been dark and grave. Sakura shivers a bit at the memory. Sakura hopes to never know the horror that brought such a terrible expression on Ayumi's face. But she is a shinobi, and it is likely that she will. She has read all of Konoha's history books. And as awful as it is, mass deaths on the mainland were a trend.

Sakura flickers her sensory net, noting that all the builders are accounted for. Including Tazuna, the snippy old builder. She had called him a plain old 'builder' just once and the craftsman got all touchy about being a master ' builder. Though Sakura internally scoffs, she isn't truly bothered. It was just something to distract herself. Her mental alarm rang once, her echo moving a bit at the back of her mind. Sakura inhales deeply. It's been four days since Zabuza and she can finally handle the salt permeating the air without coughing. Tazuna's alarm rings not a few seconds later and all of the builders begin packing up. Sakura exchanges nods with Tazuna and begins heading to the burial grounds. Oddly enough, she can just see the bump of the hill that the grounds are on from the bridge. She supposes that it is an unnecessary observation, but a detail she notices all the same.

The ashioto are waiting for her when she arrives, in a similar formation as the first burning day. There are six on either side of the remaining corpses, twelve in all. Each one is stationed at either the beginning or the end of the six rows. All perfectly moved into the position of itawari. Sakura's position remains the same, however. She will split the bodies perfectly down the middle, alighting the pyres of the thirteenth column. Again the worry concerning the color of her torch's flame nags at her. She shakes the thought. She has a duty to do. A glance to her left reveals the rest of her team standing where Kakashi and Tazuna's family had yesterday. The group of three stand a little to the side, almost mirroring Imari and Tsunami. Tazuna and the rest of the builders have yet to make it. Looking beyond them, Sakura sees the rest of the town in a large crowd. This time some of the kids are mixed in, clenching light green, almost white ribbons in their hands. It's a good sign. Ribbons like those are usually tied to the staves of the sentinels, the role that the ashioto are upholding. Sakura makes eye contact with one of the kids before nodding. The child brightens, then bolts for the nearest ashioto.

Sakura herself turns back to the sea front. The waves glitter just a bit further southwest of the path's decline. For some reason the path seems darker than before. As if it has been tread for years, instead of left abandoned for just as long. Sakura goes, knowing that another piece of dry driftwood will be waiting for her. Unknowing, however, of what colour it will burn. The thought scares a little, if she's honest with herself. But she needs echo to hold in that fear. At least until the rites are over. At least until they finish this mission. Something in Sakura knows she might just keep pushing it off, but again; Sakura doesn't have time to think about it. Instead, Sakura takes the last few steps to reach the beach and sees it. The driftwood lies a little further inland than before, but she has no doubt that it has sat there since she threw the children's named stones. Nonetheless, she walks forward, leans down, and picks it up.