Much as any man would hate to admit - rather to be hog-tied into going shopping for upholstery, and/or giving up the TV remote so getting up to tune the dial would be inevitable - he was a greenhorn over his head. A new blue-eyed kid on a block inhabited by brown-eyed beings. A novice taking on the king's thrown.
A newbie.
With a slight, undignified pout, he blew a stray lock of golden hair back into its rightful place that had entered his field of vision. He crossed his arms and tapped his shinobi-sandaled foot in apprehension. The blonde-haired man could already hear the poorly concealed snickers going on behind him. He was already debriefed that the public had taken none too kindly to his promotion. War and the desolate fabricated dream of peace had left all the citizens of Konoha skeptic of his early bump to jounin. His colleagues didn't seem too welcoming, either, to his new assigned seat with the big boys. The war had spoiled their minds with images of comrades bleeding onto their hands, loved ones screaming for them not to go, and children running into their houses in fear. What could this young, clean-shaven face with an annoying smile do to stop blood from caking the ground?
Refraining from patting his spiky, unruly blonde hair into place again (he didn't need his fellow jounins calling him high maintenance along with being perverted...damn Jiraiya-sensei's uncanny writing talent), the newly appointed jounin waited eagerly, albeit slightly impatiently, for his new assignment.
It was safe to say that no one believed that someone so young, a mere 17-year-old, could silently kill an S-ranked enemy with a single kunai. So, it was even more harmlessly spoken that ANBU and A-ranked missions weren't knocking on his door. The Sandaime listened to his vents about disrespectful comrades (all older than himself) and the degrading remarks (such as: "What's that youngster doing with a shuriken? He needs to eat more! Too thin!") he received while parading around town. Looking back now, while drawing blood from biting down on his lip too hard, the blonde jounin could only imagine how young he actually portrayed himself in front of the grandfather-like Sandaime. The third hokage had only smiled, the blonde nin remembering his wrinkles wrapping themselves around his upturned lips with a melancholy happiness.
The third assigned him to a new mission - one, he said, that would earn him that respect he so rightfully deserved and one that would show him and others (hopefully) that he was indeed a jounin worthy of his status.
What that had to do with standing outside the academy trying to wipe away the blood from his lip discreetly was beyond the young man.
Was this one of the Sandaime's inside jokes? The blonde ninja couldn't help but wonder as the other jounin vests around him trembled with concealed laughter. He could feel his arms cross tighter around his chest in subconscious instinct. Maybe it was a test? Jiraiya-sensei had told him upon a few drunken nights that the third was notorious way back when for his cruel and unusual examinations, most that transpired without the test subjects knowing. The jounin's eyebrow ticked. So, that's what it was. The third had wanted to see if he, a 17-year-old jounin, could withstand the public's remarks without walking briskly away to hide. He held back his foot that threatened to stomp upon the dusty ground in childlike defiance. He wanted to be taken seriously dammit! What's a guy have to do for some re –
"Oi! Arashi-kun. What's a guy like you doing outside a scary place like the academy?"
Arashi bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping a demeaning remark of his own. Instead, he chose the high road, keeping his feet planted upon the gravel underneath him and his cerulean eyes glued to the academy doors. Could everyone notice the throbbing vein in his temple? He was sure he had kept it under wraps with his "can-do" attitude.
"C'mon, Arashi-kun. Why don't you just run off and do some C-rank missions like you're supposed to."
"Yeah, don't try and act tough. You'll get killed."
"You know, the only reason why he was bumped up to jounin was that they needed more men for this damn war."
"I heard that they needed some decoys for the war. So they selected him. It's for our benefit."
"He's just a chuunin that's way over his head."
"Just a decoy."
"Just another soldier that's destined to die."
Arashi hadn't noticed that his hands had clenched until he could feel trickles of blood creeping out of his fingerless gloves. He could imagine the small, red crescents that marked his palms. They were shaking slightly, and the blonde jounin didn't know how long he would be able to stand it before he would snap. He didn't let his azure eyes leave the gray door of the academy for a second. He didn't need to see the sneers marking their faces, the poorly concealed smiles crumbling with laughter, the disappointed glances of older colleagues.
Maybe he was over his head. Maybe he should've waited another year for that jounin exam. He did make it by the skin of his teeth, but didn't that say something? Didn't it reverberate how skilled he was despite his young appearance? Arashi straightened his back, proudly feeling how his jounin vest adjusted with him. Perhaps he wasn't as skilled as the rest of them, but dammit, he'd prove them wrong. He'd surpass all of them, and when he did, he wouldn't break down newly appointed men of his rank.
Arashi uncrossed his arms and held them stiffly at his side, his palms still clenched. The blonde jounin spread his feet shoulder-width apart and waited with newfound confidence for his next assignment. No matter what this new mission was, he would gain respect and he would complete it like any other C and B-ranked operation. For the first time in a long time, Uzumaki Arashi was serious.
A bell chimed from inside the academy, signaling to the youngsters that it was time for them to terrorize their own homes. Snotty-nosed, grubby-handed, future assassins stampeded out of the building in herds, almost trampling over themselves and the jounins waiting outside. Arashi tried to make eye-contact with each pre-genin, looking for a quality that each held that would carry them through ninja life. Every eye he caught held a shining innocence and wonder of the world they breathed. Arashi couldn't help the slight upturn of his lips as he took in the smiles of "no more lectures about kunai velocity for 15 more hours!" and the belly-laughs of "Kashimato-sensei never saw that spit ball coming".
After exactly two minutes of the academy pouring out rambunctious students, Arashi was forced out of his reverie and looked to see the dust that had been kicked up gleefully, setting. Absentmindedly brushing the brown sediments off his green vest, Arashi noticed groups of students ranging from 11 to 12 being administered to his fellow jounins. The young jounin tilted his head to the side as he regarded the new four man teams (3 genins and their new sensei) greet and introduce themselves.
As the last team shuffled away to do some training, Arashi fought off the habit to start fidgeting. He had waited outside of the academy for four hours straight and still didn't know what the Sandaime appointed him with. Surely it couldn't be a genin team. He didn't have experience in that particular area and plus, academy teachers and parents alike wouldn't want their children to be assigned to a young fresh face like himself. Arashi idly kicked a round pebble out of his way. His strong, cemented patience was having its foundation being chipped away.
"Arashi-san!"
Arashi whipped his head around to the voice who had probably been calling him for about three minutes. He smiled apologetically while rubbing the back of his blonde head sheepishly. The academy instructor huffed.
"Maa, sorry about that. Daydreaming runs in the family I suppose." He offered a wide smile as the academy teacher tapped her foot impatiently, "So... Can I help you?"
The teacher rolled her eyes at his unprofessional bluntness, but became serious right away, "The Hokage has assigned you a new mission, correct?"
Arashi bobbed his head up and down, excitement flowing through his veins causing him to shift his weight from one foot to the other. The instructor nodded at his affirmative, "We have a student here who has graduated quite...early from his classes. He's a special case."
Arashi cocked his head to the side slightly, wondering why he was being told this. The teacher continued, "So, the third has requested that you, Arashi-san, should take him under your wing."
Arashi briefly wondered if his eyes were going to fall out of their sockets from widening them at such a diameter. His heart skipped two beats in total as his mouth sputtered out,"W-what! I-I can't do that! I was just appointed to jounin status!"
The academy instructor, thoroughly used to this type of behavior with students, comforted the hyperventilating blonde man, "If the hokage has put his absolute trust in your capabilities for this highly dedicated mission, then you shouldn't worry. I will go fetch your new charge."
With that being said and a turn of her heel, Arashi was left in the dust with his mind's repetitive seizures. Was the third out of his mind? Did he want Arashi to commit seppuku when he killed his new genin accomplice? Arashi didn't care if he would receive ego-thrashing remarks, the young jounin frantically pulled at his blond locks in frustration. This had to be some kind of joke. The third honestly didn't expect him to train this early bloomer to fight in the front lines... No, he was probably supposed to wash the windows but was mistaken. I mean, come on, there had to be a hundred 'Arashi's' in Konoha. Right? He wasn't going to be a...sensei. Hell, what if he set the kid on fire or let him drown or eaten by feral pigs or hunted down by –
"Arashi-sensei, meet Hatake Kakashi."
Arashi, once again thrust out of his reverie, whipped his head around to see his new charge but frowned when no one but the academy instructor was in sight. Frowning slightly, Arashi looked from left to right, but alas, no graduated genin was present. The blonde jounin was about to inquire that the student may have run off somewhere to get an ice cream cone when he heard a huff of annoyance come from the teacher's left side. Given any direction, Arashi didn't expect to have to look down.
There.
A fluff of unruly silver hair.
Two grey eyes that were much too old for a child.
A navy mask hiding what may be cute, pouting lips.
There.
His new student.
The academy teacher took in the newly anointed sensei's gaping mouth and wide eyes and smiled, "Kakashi here is only five-years-old and graduated at the top of his class. We're very proud of him, aren't we Kashi-kun?"
The wee little five-year-old only 'hn'-ed, still assessing his new sensei for the time being with scrutinizing eyes and a calculating gaze. Arashi looked like the five-year-old of the two in that moment with an 'awe' upon his lips and huge cerulean eyes. The academy teacher stepped back from the two and observed their strange behavior.
Arashi still couldn't believe his eyes.
There.
Crossed arms over a petit chest.
A slight tilt of a silver-haired head.
A young life he was responsible for.
Kakashi huffed in slight arrogance, hiding his actual high respect for his new teacher, "You're gonna be my sensei? What are you? Fifteen?"
Arashi's glazed over gaze became fiery orbs of defiance as he pointed at the young genin accusingly, "Hey hey! I'm seventeen, thank you very much!"
The small child only shrugged with indifference, but came over by Arashi's side anyway, his loyalty to his new sensei apparent despite the rude comment. Arashi's heart melted as the teacher waved them off.
Perhaps Arashi was still new at this, but he loved the little kid already.
o-o-o-o-o
Ugh...
Whatever coherent thoughts were left in his slowly unraveling mind had been finally ripped apart. He was surprised that he still had hair left in his scalp despite all the pulling he had made it endure throughout these five months. He could hear a squabble already breaking out by the firewood and could only imagine how much damage the plentiful ammo would cause. He should be responsible and go over there and break it up before he'd have to extract pencil-sized splinters from each of the boys. He should've used his duty as sensei and team leader to forbid fights like these from ever happening. But alas, he was only twenty-two. He was only one man. And one man could only handle so much.
He was still so new at this team stuff.
"Sensei!"
Arashi slapped his palms over his face as he heard the only female of the team wail out, signaling that someone had gotten KO-ed. Lounging against a withering oak tree, Arashi could feel his stiff back become even more cramped with the images he conjured concerning the amount of bruises and broken appendages he'd have to heal. Not to mention the lecture that he was expected to deliver (Rin wouldn't take his slacking off) and the tears he'd have to stop (she was a bit of an emotional girl as well). Maybe if he just sat still without moving, they wouldn't realize he was there.
"Arashi-sensei!! Obito's bleeding!"
Damn your peach-like skin, Obito!
Arashi, perfectly imitating a comatose zombie, slowly ran his hands down his young face before attempting to stand from his lackadaisical position. Shaking off the last of his lazy persona, Arashi ambled toward the firewood where the sounds of fighting and Rin's cry had emanated. Arriving upon the accident scene, wondering if those American cop cars would start surrounding the area, the responsible sensei had to hold in a chuckle of laughter.
Oh yes, Obito was bleeding indeed. He resembled a good impersonation of a porcupine at the moment with sticks of split firewood covering his arms, legs and part of his face. He was frowning with indignity at having lost to the silver-haired prodigy. It seemed Obito had already wiped away the tears (from his injuries or his loss, Arashi did not know) that had pooled in his tear ducts. Arashi, a professional jounin, could not be fooled with his puffy eyes and discarded goggles.
Turning his gaze toward the 11-year-old chuunin, Arashi bit his lip once more as laughter tremors shook his body. The silver-haired boy's mask was topsy-turvy, hanging off to the right, exposing an unblemished cheek that small amounts of baby fat still graced. Leaves and twigs covered his unruly mound of hair that was disheveled as well. Arashi could tell he was the winner as the young boy crossed his arms with haughtiness and gazed down at Obito, who sat upon the ground, with an air of disappointment.
Arashi held in a groan. Was he wrong to pair up Kakashi with teammates so early despite being slightly disciplined by himself on and off for six years? The blonde jounin pondered this as Rin sniffled, tears still streaking her genetic markings of the Inuzuka clan. If anyone was more mature and headset on the rules of ninja, it was Kakashi. Why he picked fights with someone that clearly wasn't capable of putting up a good challenge was beyond Arashi.
"Well, let's get you cleaned up, you two."
Arashi turned and led the way to the drooping oak tree where the medic kit lay. The three charges followed their sensei's footfalls, quarreling between themselves of who started it (Obito), who should've sidestepped the immaturity (Kakashi) and who should mind their own business (Rin). Arashi only sighed at his team's antics. He could only imagine his colleague's disappointment at his team's dysfunctional qualities, shaking their heads while quietly laughing to themselves.
The blonde ninja waved off the morose thoughts as he unbuckled the medic kit, retrieving his share of gauze, ointment and aspirin. Looking over his shoulder to see his three accomplices seated around him, Arashi hid a smile at their loyalty. Unscrewing the white cap of the ointment, Arashi delicately began to pull out Obito's splinters one by one, proud of how his student bit his lip trying to stop tears from flowing. Arashi looked to Obito and Rin, after he administered Obito ointment and some guaze, and firmly told them to clean up the mess of toothpicks the fight had turned the logs into. Arashi waited until they were out of sight. Turning towards the young chuunin in question, Arashi waved off the hands that tried to stop his own from reaching towards his precious mask.
"You can't fool me, Kashi-kun. I know what's under there," Arashi calmly told the narrowing eyes of the angered boy. Tugging down the lopsided mask the rest of the way, Arashi eyed the swollen, split-lip Kakashi sported. Gathering a small amount of chakra into his fingertips, the blonde jounin pressed against the bleeding wound until it shriveled up into a thin line. Rubbing ointment to minimize the discomfort of the sore lip, Arashi leaned back to examine his handiwork and to avoid any flying fists for disrupting privacy coming his way.
Kakashi frowned at his sensei before pulling the navy mask back up to cover his never-been-seen face once more. His serious, gray eyes shown of betrayal and anger. Arashi only smiled at the silver-haired ninja, reaching out to ruffle his spiky locks. He imagined the pout the young chuunin displayed beneath that damn fabric as he took his hand away.
Arashi took great pride in the fact that Kakashi's eyes no longer spit fire, but had a calm, albeit guarded, aura.
Arashi smiled wide at Kakashi, poking him in the side, "Maa, I don't know why you hide that cute face, Kashi-kun. Rin would be all over you if you lightened up a bit."
The fire was back, as was the enigmatic emotion that sometimes resided behind those dun eyes. Kakashi huffed and stood up, stalking off to find his teammates, leaving Arashi kicking himself.
He was still so new at this.
o-o-o-o-o
Why did he ever agree to this? He should've stood up and rebutted with anything – they're too young, not yet, just a little longer, they need more training, they have hemophobia, they still have some innocence left...
But he didn't. Arashi gritted his teeth until they threatened to chip. They were staring at him with curious gazes, although the silver-haired one probably knew what their new mission involved. He couldn't bring himself to utter a sentence. He didn't want to be the one who had to shatter the last surviving remains of their childhood.
Damn this war.
"Sensei? Our mission?"
His woeful cerulean eyes fell upon Rin - young, optimistic Rin. Her fawn eyes shown with concern for her sensei's clam-up (something that almost never happened) and a slight fear of not knowing what was going on. Obito tugged on Arashi's sleeve, impatience getting the better of him.
"Oi! Why aren't you tellin' us anything?"
Arashi shook his head, forcing a smile upon his lips and shakily said, "It's a B-rank mission."
Obito's eyes widened until Arashi could almost see his whole eyeballs, Rin gasped and squealed at the same time, while Kakashi remained stoic as ever, only letting a risen silver brow indicate he was indeed interested.
As the young ninjas conversed between themselves, Arashi refrained from burying his head in his calloused hands.
The words assassination mission went unheard. Or rather, unsaid. Arashi pondered his decision with unheard of focus as the team set out on the muddy trails of Konoha's forest. Was it better for them not to know and go on like the killing part was inevitable? Should he stop them now and reveal the real reason for this high-class mission: to train them how to kill? Should he pull over this uncontrollable ride and give them a chance to get out of it? At least give them a motion sickness bag and a seatbelt? Arashi cringed at the hearty laughs and playful jabs behind him. He didn't want to take that away, but the inevitable 'first-killing' would come no matter how much he would try and soften the blow - or try and stop it completely.
Not much later, Arashi is helping Rin wash her hands in the hotel room's sink, the crimson stains resisting to rub away no matter how much soap is lathered onto them. Her usually chipper and peppy self has become quiet and aloof, her eyes looking but not seeing. Arashi can't help but to blame himself for not telling her and the others earlier. As the blonde jounin sees red rings forming around the sink's drain, he squeezes Rin's hands tight.
His usually loud and energetic voice is reduced to no more than a whisper, "I know it's hard, but I'm proud of you."
Rin's brown-haired head hangs low, the sepia locks hiding her fawn eyes from view. Arashi releases her hands and wraps his arms around her small, quivering frame, "It's okay to cry, you know."
The dreadful spell is broken at his words, her sobs soaking into his tight, black shirt (his vest and other clothes too bloody to stay put in). Rin balls her fists into the ebony fabric, only pinching Arashi's hard stomach once because of the form-fitting shirt's deception. The blonde ninja fights back tears at her wretched cries of how she stole three unknown names. He rubs her back in slow, lazy circles. It's all he can do to numb the pain. He knows it's not much. He knows it's not enough. But he tries.
Later on that night in the run-down hotel, after he rocked Rin to bed and after he tried to shower off the feeling of guilt, Arashi is awoken by Obito's thrashing in his sleep. Before he can even awake the Uchiha from his definite nightmare, the black-haired genin snaps his eyes open and proceeds to cover his face with his hands after he realizes where he is. Arashi can feel the waves of ashamedness roll off the young ninja for his tears that are probably streaking his cheeks. The sniffling sound that gives Obito away keeps Arashi from letting the genin be and getting back to sleep. Throwing off the green, itchy covers, Arashi stumbles in the dark room toward Obito's bed quietly, not wanting to wake either Rin or Kakashi.
The blonde jounin places a hand upon Obito's trembling shoulder and winces as he jumps from the contact. His shimmering black orbs gaze into Arashi's azure ones with a lingering silent question of why. Arashi squeezes Obito's shoulder and smiles wistfully, shaking his head, telling him 'I don't know'. The Uchiha stubbornly tries to rid his eyes of the persistent tears that keep pestering him and his self-esteem. He gives his sensei one last gaze of false happiness and rolls over to face the window. Arashi doesn't leave, instead, he perches upon the edge of the black-haired genin's bed, feeling it sink beneath his weight. The quivering breaths of the Uchiha cease as he realizes his sensei won't leave him for dead.
"Sensei?"
Arashi stays silent but turns his head ever so slightly towards the whispering genin. He can hear the tears on the young boy's breath, despite his attempts to conceal his emotions so perfectly like his rival Kakashi.
A slight pause before, "Thanks."
Thanks for not leaving me.
Thanks for staying by my side.
Thanks for not reprimanding my tears.
Thanks for not commenting on them at all.
Arashi feels his lips turn upward in a small smile and he pats Obito's leg silently.
You're welcome.
It takes until the afternoon of the next day before Kakashi can no longer push away his emotions. Arashi noticed his silver-haired charge's peculiar behavior all morning – from snapping at Rin to nearly punching Obito clean through a wall. He knew deep in his overly large heart what was happening. Even he, Hatake Kakashi - Master of Masks, could not quench the raw feeling of ripping away another's life. The young chuunin finally breaks as his teammates are deep in the forest gathering supplies while he stayed behind to pitch the tents. Arashi hears the slam of a fist against a tree from behind him and knowingly turns to Kakashi. His fist is bleeding profusely from the splintered wood of the innocent redwood. His gray eyes squeeze shut as he tries to swallow the bile that rushes to his throat. Arashi only observes his student's inner turmoil, his heart pleading to go forth and hug him while his rational reason tells him to stay put and let nature take its course before issuing damage control.
With the sagging tents left to collapse into themselves, Kakashi sprints toward the nearest bush and lowers his mask, succumbing to his stomach's protest of the previous day's events. Arashi shoves his rational side out of his way as he quickly walks toward his heaving charge. The blonde jounin bites his lip as he watches Kakashi's defenses crumble and for the first time the 'hardened ninja with a cold heart' facade reveals a shaken 12-year-old. Arashi kneels beside his student, his stomach hardened over the years at the sight of sickness, and holds back the silver locks that edge toward the young chuunin's mouth and that stick to his clammy forehead.
Before anyone knows it, it's over. Kakashi straightens up and sits back on his heels, wiping his mouth upon his sleeve before lifting his mask once again. Arashi lets his hand fall upon the young soldier's shoulder. The silver-haired chuunin breaths in deeply, trying to get his bearings, and sighs, "Dammit."
Arashi mentally shakes his head at his student's reprimanding upon himself. He can see Kakashi's fists clench, but the young prodigy doesn't shrug away the hand that is firmly set upon his shoulder. Before Arashi can get a word in edgewise, Kakashi lowers his head and covers his eyes with one hand.
Instead of hearing the young ninja's berating voice, a meek whisper resounds, "Dammit..."
Arashi pats the drooping shoulder with assurance, "Don't worry Kakashi-kun. It happens to all of us, even the best."
Kakashi shakes his head, silver locks swaying side to side, "I can't even stomach death... If I can't do that, then how am I supposed to be a ninja?"
How am I supposed to evade my father's path?
Arashi only sighs and lifts his head to the clear blue sky, watching a bird take flight above them, "I'm not going to say it gets better with time. It just gets more ... acceptable. You don't need to get upset. You're new at this."
Kakashi stared at the dusty ground for a few seconds before lifting his head to eye his sensei with some sort of wisdom-like gleam in his dun eyes, "Like you, Arashi-sensei?"
Arashi paused, his cerulean eyes widening. He wanted to shake his head and laugh at his student, ask him what he was talking about, what thoughts filled his silver-maned head, but Arashi couldn't deny what had been asked. He knew what Kakashi meant. It made the blonde man shiver at how perceptive the preteen actually was.
Arashi beamed at Kakashi, making the aloof boy tilt his head in an unknown wonder, "Hai. Just like me, Kashi-kun."
o-o-o-o-o
Oh, dammit...
Why did there have to be so many colors to choose from? Couldn't they limit the choices to at least the basic color wheel? It would make a man's job oh so much easier if they just agreed to some of the comments he left in the suggestion box. The hot, sticky summer air made the jounin bitter at how it seemed to make his spiky hair even more frizzy and unmanageable than it already was. The store owner wasn't helping much either. Her beady eyes analyzed his every movement, somehow convinced that he was waiting for her to look in the opposite direction so he could get a five-finger discount. It was quite unnerving really. He was already a nervous wreck. From not knowing what to wear and misplacing his keys to bumping into the personal twelve-year-old freak show that was Maito Gai to blindly guessing as to what was cool to buy for a turning-thirteen girl...
Ugh, why couldn't she be ashamed to endure her "old" sensei's presence in her life outside kunais like all the other preteen-turned-moody-teenagers were? His pride whacked him upside the head, reminding him that he wasn't old but only twenty-three and proud of his eighteen-year-old looks and physique.
A finger tapped lightly on his shoulder, "Can I help you with anything sir?"
Arashi puffed out his cheeks in annoyance. This was the tenth and final time this old woman was going to try and ruin his concentration to think like a thirteen year old girl so he could get a present that Rin wouldn't shun him for.
Arashi whipped around, "For the last time, I'm not stealing anything!"
The woman 'humph'-ed at the young man's rudeness, "Well, sir, you've been staring at those lollipops for ten minutes now."
Arashi blushed before crossing his arms and looking away, "Well... maybe I have a big sweet tooth..."
Before the shopkeeper could further reprimand him, Arashi strolled out of the candy shop and wandered through the bustling streets of Konoha. The blonde jounin could feel his fingers twitch inside his navy pockets, stretching the old material much too far for its own comfort. He faintly heard the tiny seams groan, but thought nothing of it. No, he had more pressing matters at hand than going to the seamstress today..
It was bound to be a large gathering. Rin was pretty popular with her gentle charm and kind heart. Not to mention that the Inuzuka family was extended twice over with relatives that were removed three times. So, this was all the more reason that he had to get a knock-out present. He was going to be in a room full of preteen girls and the whole Inuzuka clan (not to mention that he didn't want to lose face with his two male students). Shifting his thoughts over to the two rivals, Arashi tried to picture what gifts and pleasantries Obito and Kakashi were bound to give.
Well, Obito was obviously going to go all out of his way with either an absurdly expensive item or a homemade gift that took him months to complete. Arashi felt his lips tug into a bittersweet smile. Would the sepia-haired girl notice the feelings the Uchiha harbored in his heart? A nagging voice in the back of his mind whispered that she needed to before it was too late.
Kakashi, the ever stoic child, would probably get something practical. It was inevitable with the way the silver-haired chuunin's mind worked. All rationality, no heart. Ever since his father took his life, Kakashi had never been the same. Sure, he was an arrogant brat when the blonde jounin first met him all those years ago, but he still saw some childlike awe shining in those gray orbs. The day his father gouged out his own insides, Kakashi's heart had been among the casualties.
Shaking his blonde head free of the suddenly dark thoughts, Arashi continued to window shop until all the vibrant colors blended to a runny mix of yellow and green. He didn't like to admit it, but he didn't have a clue when it came to women, moreover young women. Arashi had a way with the ladies, but his uncanny talent to woo his way to ruby lips would only suffice at bars and clubs, not at all appropriate for his thirteen-year-old student. He blamed Jiraiya and cursed his name. It was his dirty work that earned Arashi all those slaps throughout the years. He was surprised that he didn't have a permanent red patch across his right cheek.
Absentmindedly rubbing the sensitive area gingerly, Arashi avoided ramen carts and little ones scattered across the sidewalk playing shogi with the grace of a four-tailed cat. Maybe he needed a woman's opinion on this matter... Their kind always seemed to conjure fabulous ideas for birthday presents. But who to ask? Tsunade-sama?
Checking his broken-arrow watch (his excuse for being fashionably late to jounin snorefests - ahem - meetings), Arashi groaned at the time. How was he supposed to hunt down the slug princess within a half hour? Running a hand down his pouting face, Arashi squeezed his voice box shut to keep from screaming.
It's a wonder that I don't have gray hair by now...
Just as Arashi was wondering if Kami was really out there or if Fate had a sick sense of humor, the young jounin came face to face with Heaven itself. He would've gotten down upon his knees if people weren't already eyeing his gaping mouth with concern. Avoiding the whispering citizens that were fearing for his sanity, Arashi sprinted into the store with newfound confidence and motive only to appear seconds later with his purchase. The wide, beaming smile that stuck to his young face never wavered, even as children huddled to their mother's leg for protection. No, nothing was going to damper the mood he swivelled into. Kami had just smiled down upon him and Arashi wasn't going to take the rays of warmth for granted.
But no, he was merely a puppet in a play filled with excessive amounts of tragedy. As woeful cerulean eyes bounced from colorful wrapping paper and bountiful bows, to his own gift wrapped with last minute supplies (he would thank all that was mighty for those extra leg-wrappings...), Arashi didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Even Kakashi, for Kami's sake, splurged and got sunny yellow wrapping paper that was speckled with pink dots. Not to mention the cheerful purple bow that sat upon its brightly colored throne. It looked quite comical in the quiet boy's hands, but Arashi silently praised the silver-haired chuunin for stepping up to the plate. His azure eyes went from Kakashi's gift to his, making Arashi take back his praise and let loose a string of curses upon the oblivious boy. It was never okay to make your sensei look like an ass!
Time ticked by, slowly fading away just like the pile of presents that towered above Rin's small frame. The pre-medic nin was smiling broadly, appreciation and thanks illuminating from her fawn eyes. Each gift that was given to her was accepted with a thorough shower of "thank-you's" and "I-love-its". Arashi never let his present touch the pile that was steadily decreasing in height. He couldn't be faced with the humiliation of what he got her compared with all the lavish items she already received. The blonde jounin sighed to himself. Perhaps he was getting old.
No, no! Don't ever say that! You're young, hip, cool and out-of-this-world! You're just ... confused. Teenage girls are always confusing. No one will blame you...
Arashi peeked at the blush that was silently creeping its way to her full cheeks as she reached towards Kakashi's present. The blonde nin gulped down the rising guilt in his throat.
...But will she?
Arashi made the time go faster by downing punch like whiskey shots, pretending that he could already feel the numbness settle into his stomach, warming his insides with vigor and drowning his mind's worries. In reality, however, the fruit punch only quenched his thirst and the warmness hitting his stomach was probably those hot jalapenos he devoured only five minutes ago. Arashi peered back to the table where Rin was gasping at the beautiful gift Obito had made/bought. He couldn't even bring himself to look and see what the item was that made tiny tears form in the corner of Rin's light eyes. Arashi chuckled slightly as Obito stuttered out a "You're-welcome-you-deserve-it", his face resembling a cherry more and more with each passing breath, while Kakashi rolled his eyes (hiding his actual impressment).
Soon the mighty mountain of presents was no longer and guests waved their goodbyes lazily. The moon was hanging overhead, signaling the party's end, and Rin sadly bid her friends farewell. Enveloping each of her male teammates in a hug, loved by Obito and loathed by Kakashi, the last remnants of her guests shut the door behind them. With her family and acquaintances gone, Arashi snapped up his head to notice that he had still not given Rin his horrid present (and that he was the only person in the room with her at the moment...not too inconspicuous indeed...). Rin folded her small hands behind her back and eyed her sensei with a knowing smirk, "Are you going to hand over that present that's been clutched tightly to your chest all evening?"
Arashi whipped his head down to see himself doing just that and looked back up to the giggling girl, smiling sheepishly, "Aha... Well, I suppose you've earned it."
Before Arashi could hide the gift behind his back as he changed his mind, Rin snatched it from his white-knuckled grip and plopped herself down upon a cushy, magenta sofa. Arashi dubbed the armchair across from her, palms already starting to perspire from his nail-biting anxiousness. Much to his relief, Rin had completely overlooked the messy wrapping job composed of leg-wraps and slowly unraveled the bandages to reveal what her dear old (YOUNG!) sensei had graced her with.
Arashi felt his heart crack, break, take a suicidal leap off a cliff, and burn when he saw the young medic-nin's smile vanish from her face. Her expression was unreadable, even for his high-ranked status of ninja (or he was too busy trying not to hyperventilate to notice). The blonde jounin gripped the armrests of the chair brutally tight and tried to quickly explain himself.
"Well, you see, Rin darling, your real present was devoured by Kakashi's nin-dogs. You know, those pesky little things. Especially that brat Pakkun. Anyways, I was at a loss because it really was a splendid little gift, but after Kakashi got down on his knees and begged for me to forgive him, I had no choice but to abide to the boy's wishes. I raced out as fast as I could to the stores and what you see here, my lovely Rin, is a replacement (a satisfactory one at that) for your real gift that is now sitting in Pakkun's stomach, being digested by chemical enzymes as we speak."
Silence reigned over the two occupants of the room. Arashi smiled nervously while Rin only stared at her present, not acknowledging the blonde ninja's wild tale. Finally, after what seemed like two eternity's to the jounin, Rin flickered her eyes upward to her sensei. Arashi held his breath as Rin stared into his cerulean orbs with her light brown ones. He briefly noted that if she did not speak (or start crying) soon, he was going to die of suffocation. Wouldn't that be one hell of a eulogy?
Rin inhaled and exhaled a long breath. And there it was.
A smile.
Arashi let out the breath he had been harboring, exchanging it for widened eyes. What code had he unraveled? He did a double take, not trusting his keen senses this time around.
It was still there.
Still true and not forced.
It sat there languidly.
"Sensei..."
Arashi snapped his eyes up to her own, trying to cover up the fact that he had been ogling her mouth with an unhealthy fascination. The blonde jounin tried to squash the hopeful glint his eyes probably held in that moment, but knew he'd failed immediately after seeing Rin's smile soften.
Taking another look at her newest present, Rin returned her sensei's awe-inspired gaze with another beaming smile, "I wouldn't be surprised if you stood outside every store wondering if I'd like this or that."
Arashi could feel a blush creep upon his cheeks despite his fervent attempts to think of something cold. No, he couldn't have been that obvious, could he? How could his precariously prepared shopping trip be so easily seen through by this thirteen-year-old? Was all his students this perceptive, but have been fooling him all along with childish squabbles and clumsy steps?
Rin continued on, noting her sensei's blush with a hint of triumph at hitting her mark, "You must've burned out your cornea's with pondering all the bright colors you thought I was bound to cherish."
Arashi only let his eyes bore into hers with mesmerization. Rin laughed airily, "You, a male jounin that has known a kunai's velocity at a wind speed of 5 miles per hour since he was 7, were trying to delve into the mind of a girl who just wants to have her friends and family surrounding her during one of the most important turning points in her short life. A girl whose life doesn't revolve around pink ribbons and sparkling diamonds, but scraped knees and muddy hands."
The sepia-haired genin laid her forgotten present by her side as she stood up and strode over to her gaping blonde sensei. Arashi stood up as well, a habit of his while in the hokage's presence, and curiously tilted his head to the side at his student's behavior.
"You don't have to treat me like precious cargo, sensei."
Arashi, through all of his years from training, strategy analyses and textbook reading, didn't predict what came next.
A hug.
Little arms wrapped tightly around his torso.
Sepia-toned hair tickling his chin.
The overpowering feeling of acceptance...
He hugged back.
Rin buried her nose into Arashi's olive vest, "You're a little unseasoned, but that's the way I like it."
Arashi bit his lip as his image of being an all-knowing jounin shattered. He couldn't fool those who knew him best, it seemed. Reaching up to tentatively ruffle her hair, Arashi only smiled, squashing the feelings of "greenhorn" down into the dark corners of his mind. It didn't matter as he could feel Rin's appreciation and love towards him, even though he'd gotten her a certificate for a month of free ramen.
He may be new at this sort of thing (as would any dignified man), but he was pretty sure Rin's smile was something he wanted to be more experienced with.
o-o-o-o-o
Ramen-ramen-ramen-ramen-ramen...
No matter how horrible a mission goes, how bad your break-up was (did she really have to throw his clothes out the window like that?) or how unmanageable your hair was that day (damn humidity), a nice quick stop at the local ramen hut always made things better. Those fabulous, thin noodles slathered with a delectable, copper broth with savory grilled pork was something Arashi couldn't frown in the presence of. The blonde ninja tried to remain civil (and keep his tongue from panting like a starving dog) as the cook wrapped the precious noodles around and around before slopping them into a bowl. Grabbing onto the bar as if it were a lifeline, Arashi tried to keep from whining at the tantalizing slowness the cook took to drizzle warm broth onto the dish.
Out of the corner of his cerulean eye, Arashi could see his black-haired student imitating himself to a 'T' (with maybe a looser grip on self-control). His orange-tinted goggles were cast to the side with indifference while his uncovered ebony eyes followed the cook's motions precisely - to the last flinch of a finger. Arashi resisted the urge to ruffle the 13-year-old's locks. He had already received a lecture from the genin at how it was "uncool" to do so for a boy. It was almost scary how the blonde jounin seemed to become more and more like his own sensei. Arashi's hair was in a permanent ruffle from the white-haired man's rough hands.
Taking a moment to dislodge the primal instincts whispering in his mind 'must devour in .5 seconds so it can't be taken away from me', Arashi twirled a chopstick idly through his fingers. It was just him and Obito today. Kakashi had a rendezvous with some kunai and shuriken while Rin was out purchasing her gift for the silver-haired teen due to his jounin promotion. Arashi let a proud smile grace his lips at the thought of having taught the 13-year-old jounin. It seemed the grey-eyed ninja beat out Arashi's record for the smallest jounin vest...
Turning is attention back to the Uchiha beside him, who was currently shoving ramen into his face in a matter of seconds after it had been placed in front of him, Arashi felt his smile weaken slightly.
Why have a rival at such a young age?
He'd never understand the ways of today's generation. They were at war. It was a time to embrace friendship, not claw at so-called "enemies" who were actually your teammates. Arashi mumbled out a polite thank-you to the cook as he placed a bowl of steaming ramen in front of him.
Arashi mixed around the noodles and pork for a minute before sliding some into his awaiting mouth and protesting taste buds (why did he have to tantalize them so?). Chewing thoughtfully for a moment, Arashi gulped as he turned his head to the black-haired ninja beside him as said genin was ordering a second bowl, "Ne, Obito?"
Obito whirled his head around to stare into his sensei's eyes with a guilty face. Arashi didn't even want to know this time... He was still recovering from the heart attack he endured when Obito had confessed that he had read one of his Icha Icha books.
I still can't find that 3rd volume...
The Uchiha quickly explained himself to Arashi (who wasn't prepared for an apology so early in the afternoon), "You said yourself that I could get as many bowls as I wanted! So, clearly, two bowls isn't that much, right? I mean, if I really let loose then I'd have like fifteen, but I know you don't get paid well (I mean, everyone in a five mile radius of Konoha heard you whinin' to the Sandaime after that C-rank mission!) and Rin won't let us use her certificate and -"
Arashi tried to reign in the laughter that threatened to erupt, "Ha, Obito... You need to learn that you're not going to be reprimanded every time I say your name."
Obito stared on for a minute bashfully before crossing his arms and huffing, "Hmph. Well, it seems like that for the past few days. You even snapped at Rin! Only little I'm-so-perfect-and-my-hair-is-so-cool-look-how-it-defies-gravity Kakashi hasn't been getting lectures..."
Ouch. Right in the gut...
Arashi winced. He hadn't been that snappy had he? Granted, the high-class mission his team and himself were about to take had been eating his nerves alive, but he was sure that he had his emotions under control. And for Kakashi, Arashi just assumed that the boy was doing well. He had been accepted into jounin territory...
'Should've listened to the Sandaime. 'Assuming makes an ass out of you and me.'
Arashi frowned at his student before lowering his blonde head shamefully, "Gomen, Obito. I've just been running on pure adrenaline for the past few days. Everything is all out of whack," The blonde jounin grimaced, "I probably didn't even notice Kakashi, let alone praise him for his hard work. As for you and Rin... I'm just a little apprehensive about our mission tomorrow."
Obito uncrossed his arms and looked at his sensei thoughtfully, until he finally decided to beam at Arashi, "Maa, Arashi-sensei! You don't need to worry about any mission I've been assigned to! We're gonna take those guys down! What are we up against, sensei?"
Obito completely disregarded the new bowl of ramen set in front of him, settling for jumping up and down in his seat out of sheer excitement. The Uchiha's signature black eyes were gleaming with an unfathomable joy for getting some well-deserved, real action. Arashi eyed the genin's clenched fists with amusement, "Well, it's a relatively easy mission. All we really have to do is destroy a bridge, but it's the territory that we'll have to enter that will be dangerous."
Arashi tried to keep a stern, morbid face as he briefly explained the mission their team was about to embark first thing in the next morning, but found his lips curving upwards at the uncontainable enthusiasm the ebony-eyed genin possessed. The blonde jounin silently observed Obito shake his fist in the air.
"I'll take them down! That bridge is gonna be blasted into smithereens!"
After a slight scolding from Arashi to get down from the bar counter and to stop scaring the customers, Obito settled down a tad. The Uchiha genin's wide smile faltered as he stared down at his bowl of ramen. A glazed look came over his colorless eyes as his jaw clenched. Arashi raised an eyebrow, but didn't dare to say anything.
Obito gripped his chopsticks tightly in a fist that lay idle in his lap, "I won't let Kakashi-teme get all the glory. He's getting promoted to jounin, the bastard, and I can't even activate my sharingan."
Arashi calmly slurped up a noodle, but was currently fighting an inner battle with himself whether to console the Uchiha just yet. Obito didn't give him the time to make a decision as he growled out, "I want to be known, I want to have a legacy. Why does an unemotional bastard like him get all the good stuff?"
The blonde jounin felt his heart contract tightly in his chest at the young teen's words.
If he only knew...
Arashi heard the wooden utensils in Obito's hand finally snap. Konoha's Yellow Flash widened his eyes slightly as he softly whispered, "Obito-kun..."
Said Uchiha whirled his head towards his sensei for the second time that early afternoon, and Arashi mentally 'tsk'-ed at the tears that were quietly forming behind the glistening black orbs. Before the liquid could even reach the tear ducts, Obito rubbed it away harshly, turning his head away from the blonde jounin. Arashi halted the hand that threatened to reach out and place itself on Obito's shoulder. If there was one thing the young boy didn't need, it was pity. Arashi had plenty of personal experience.
Instead, the twenty-three-year-old only went back to his ramen, not liking how the normally warm and delicious substance left a bitter taste in his mouth. Slowly, ever so agonizingly slowly, Obito heaved a sigh and unwrapped a new pair of chopsticks.
Arashi pushed back his bowl gently (he just couldn't enjoy it now) and closed his eyes while crossing his arms, "Uchiha Obito."
Obito briefly choked on the ramen he had just shoved into his mouth from the formal title. Hacking up only a little broth (desperately trying to save face), Obito faced his sensei with a flustered and slightly puzzled look.
Arashi opened one eye, his azure iris glistening with mirth despite himself, and began, "You're time will come, I can feel it. To be 'known', you need to have talent, a famous technique, flashy entrances, etc. Right?"
Obito bowed his head with morose and mumbled out, "Yeah."
Arashi bellowed out, "Wrong!"
Obito snapped his head back up and Arashi could see a glimmer of hope flash in the genin's eyes. Despite his attempt to be serious about the matter and show-off his developing pep-talk skills, Arashi let a small smile play upon his lips, "Well, not all wrong. It's indeed easier to be 'known' with that stuff, but there's something that's even more helpful than all that."
The black-haired Uchiha unconsciously leaned in. Arashi opened both of his eyes, a definite twinkle of emotion shining behind the blue irises that Obito couldn't define, "It doesn't bless every civilian or shinobi and it's in a sadly low supply. It's something that even Kakashi doesn't possess yet."
At this statement, Obito's eyes widened to dinner plates at the rarity of Kakashi not having this 'certain something'. The Uchiha couldn't help but be curious, "What is it, sensei?"
Arashi broke into a beaming smile, trying to squash that pesky habit to ruffle the boy's locks, "A heart."
Obito's face fell, "W-what! Sensei!! Everyone has that and Kakashi (even if he acts like a robot) has that too! What the hell are you talking about?"
Arashi chuckled, "Watch that mouth, Obito. I don't mean an actual beating heart. I'm talking about caring when you don't have to, giving when you hadn't received, loving when it's not returned. A heart that will sacrifice its metronome to save a teammate in need, to lend a hand despite being knocked down numerous times itself."
Arashi happily noted the understanding that dawned upon the genin. The blonde jounin could no longer contain the beaming smile that broke onto his lips, "And you, Obito, hold this special quality."
Obito, dumbfounded, pointed to himself and pondered quietly, "Me?"
His sensei nodded, "And I believe that your heart and generosity will impact someone that's closer to you than you think. Maybe you'll realize it on our next mission, ne?"
Obito silently stared at his lukewarm ramen with a furrowed brow, indicating that the Uchiha was thinking hard about this new information. Arashi let his beam of pearly whites disintegrate into a small smile once more. Turning back to his ramen, Arashi gleefully slurped up his previously forgotten noodles, noting quietly that the bitter tang was gone.
A few minutes pass before, "You have a heart too, sensei."
Arashi's tight hold upon his emotions melted away as he eye-creased both eyes at Obito, "Aww, Obi-kun!"
The blonde jounin dropped his chopsticks as he reached over to drag the flustered genin into a tight bear-hug. At that moment, Arashi didn't care if Obito would reprimand him, claim that he was never going out for ramen with him again, or anything that would cause him bodily harm. In that moment as the ebony-eyed Uchiha flailed in his death grip, Arashi could feel the 'newness' of having a genin team wither away.
"Gack! Sensei! Mother hen alert! Ahh!"
Mm, perhaps he still had some things to learn.
o-o-o-o-o
It was deathly quiet. He wasn't used to quiet. The silence of it all had always made him restless. He had been in the presence of three (well two - the third was reluctant) rambunctious genin that never seemed to catch laryngitis (despite how much he prayed some days). No matter how much he'd yell, himself, to those three to just shut the hell up, he always secretly enjoyed the noise. Quiet never boded well. It was when missions tended to go wrong, when it seemed no one was listening (or around you). When it was quiet, people usually broke down, finally releasing harbored tears that would never wash over in public. As silence looms upon any vicinity, the area seems that much more lonelier. He wanted so desperately to cry.
But the hokage wasn't allowed to cry.
He was supposed to ease others' troubles.
Drowning in his own pity wasn't part of the job description.
He didn't have time to cry.
Damn paperwork.
No matter how much he scribbled and crossed-out (and maybe fudged), the 'in' pile never seemed to descend. If the blonde hokage didn't know any better, the former Sandaime had set him up for this. Maybe it was the old man that kept filling the bins with scrolls every morning when Arashi was sure it was empty when he left that prior night. A part of his mind, the part that incessantly manifested Obito's echoing laugh and Rin's fading smile to torture him, silently enjoyed the work's distraction.
"Yondaime-san."
Arashi lifted his head slowly from the paperwork to eye the previous hokage who stood before his desk. The old man had been standing there for quite some time, silently observing the young Yondaime work slowly, maybe judging how his rule would effect Konoha in due time. Arashi, however, was never one to idle around quietly and wanted to jump out of his seat and shout at the Sandaime numerous times throughout his visit to just talk already. But alas, maturity had finally caught up to the young blonde so he found it viable to keep his pie-hole shut.
Arashi gazed upon the many wrinkles that wove their way around the old man's face. That same small part of him was slightly irked that the Sandaime hadn't strung on the '-sama' formality to his new title. Would he ever be more than that 17-year-old jounin recruit in the wise man's eyes?
The Sandaime puffed on his pipe leisurely, all the while keeping his deep brown eyes locked with Arashi's cerulean ones, "I see you've been keeping pace with the heavy loads of work."
Arashi only smiled casually and nodded, while seething inside - blaming the Sandaime for dumping paper into his bin late at night. The third blew out foggy, blue smoke from his mouth, "Not too much of a hassle for you, I'm sure?"
The young Fourth now shook his blonde head, his stupid smile still pasted onto his face, "Not at all, Sandaime-sama. This is nothing compared to teaching them."
The room's temperature dropped a few degrees for Arashi as the Sandaime eyed him sharply for some reason a split second before covering the animosity with a wistful smile, "Ah, yes. You haven't forgotten about them, have you?"
Arashi blanched at the idea, "Of course not. I could never forget Rin and Obito. I mean, sure, remembering them can be difficult at times, but it's the happy memories that keep me going. I wouldn't be here today without them. I'm sure of it."
The blonde hokage seemed sure of his answer (quietly questioning himself since when was this a quiz?) but the Sandaime didn't give him a point even for his effort. There was another tug from his chapped lips on the old pipe, biding his time well. Arashi tried to shake off the feeling of apprehension. He was hokage. This old geezer shouldn't be intimidating him like this.
"Is that all you remember?"
Arashi's eyebrows touched his golden hairline, "What do you mean by that?"
The Sandaime lowered his pipe, and for the first time in a long time, he looked serious. He was no longer the wistful old man with a grandfather touch. He was a retired hokage who knew something Arashi didn't. The wise glint in his dark eyes twinkled with passion.
Arashi cringed slightly at his stern voice, "You are supposed to remember and cherish the dead. It is an unwritten law that we all go by. However, the living are still present. You need to remember them. Don't mistake their aloofness for indifference, Arashi. It is a grave mistake."
Arashi stared at the old man with a hardened gaze, "Is this about Kakashi?"
The third only puffed his pipe once more, "I think you know what this is about. I'm just not sure you're willing to accept it."
All throughout Arashi's short life, he'd always had some reign over his emotions. Despite his young age and appearance, the blonde shinobi could become deathly serious and professional during a nerve-devouring mission. He could seal off his water pipes at a funeral. He could block off his heart with stone walls when love ran away. All in all, Arashi came to think of himself as a pretty good follower of Shinobi Rule #25. Sure, he slipped sometimes. But that's what happened when you were human.
In the span of three seconds, Arashi threw his Shinobi Rule/Moral Guide out the window.
The definitive slam of palms against a desk resounded in the small office. Papers fluttered from their neat stacks onto the ground below, "I don't need to accept anything! There's nothing to accept!"
The Sandaime seemed unmoved by his outburst, "Don't deny this, Arashi. It's been eating you alive, hasn't it?"
Arashi huffed, his normally joyful irises clouding over to darkness, "Kakashi is capable of taking care of himself. He doesn't need me to protect him anymore. He's a shinobi of Konoha. He's grown up."
Sandaime only tsked, "Do you really believe yourself, Arashi? You've seen how he's been lately. Are you telling me you aren't the least bit concerned?"
Arashi narrowed his eyes at the third, huffing out, "For your information, Sarutobi-sama, I haven't seen Kakashi lately. But I have other matters to tend to than worrying about him. He's been taking care of himself fine throughout all these years. There's no need for me to step in. We all need to grow up and tend our own wounds. Anyway, Kakashi knows that he can ask for help if he needs it."
The Sandaime's eyes traveled lazily over the fallen papers, to Arashi's palms that were still smacked onto the desk before returning his stare into the blonde ninja's eyes, "You forget how stubborn the boy is, Arashi. It sounds like you're trying to convince yourself."
The third puffed on his pipe some more, letting his wrinkled lids shut in thought. Arashi only stared. After a moment, the old Sandaime gazed upon Arashi once more, "Ever since I've known you, Arashi, you always wanted to be accepted. It was always so hard to watch because you already were. You just never realized it. You let others knock you down, but it all seemed to change once you met Kakashi. You gained your confidence, you developed a backbone. I was always concerned about your overly large heart, but in the end, it was in your favor."
The blonde hokage felt his mouth fall open slightly at the honest words the Sandaime spoke. Arashi let his eyes fall to the papers that littered the ground.
'You have a heart too, sensei.'
He could feel the wetness develop around his tear ducts as Obito's smile took over his senses. The blonde ninja lifted a hand to grasp at his white cloak's collar, trying to reign in the tears that threatened to spill.
Hokage weren't allowed to cry.
Hokage needed to control their emotions.
The words kept spilling into Arashi's mind, but he couldn't see their logic anymore.
"Becoming Hokage hasn't changed you, Arashi. Losing Rin and Obito did. You've developed a wall around your heart, blocking out what you truly want to do, what you truly believe. It's time to let it go."
Arashi clenched his fists, only briefly noting that his cloak was going to need pressing from the wrinkles his hand was construing, "How can I let them go? They trusted me. They needed me and..."
The young hokage swallowed the tightness of his throat, trying to hold onto the last bits of dignity he had. He knew it was all a waste though. The Sandaime saw right through him. Nevertheless, he was going to try. What he wanted to be a confident sturdy voice became a shaky whisper, "And... I needed them. I can't just forget about them."
The Sandaime stepped closer to Arashi, forcing the blonde to look into his chocolate eyes, "You can't just forget about him either. Arashi, you don't need to forget about your loved ones. What you need to do is move on and live in the present. If you don't act quickly, Arashi, I can't guarantee you that Kakashi will be here for long as well. He's already so far away."
Arashi's heart sank and he could feel the thin cracks that wrapped around it start to crumble. He didn't want to believe the Sandaime's words. He didn't want to admit that he had ignored Kakashi to save his heart the pain from not seeing his two accomplices with the silver-haired jounin. His hand that was constricting his cloak let its grip loosen.
But he had. He was wrong. All those times Kakashi came in to hand in reports, Arashi had looked the other way, never daring to look into the young teen's lone, grey eye. And now, as he watched his papers flutter about on the ground from the slight breeze outside, Arashi could feel the guilt from losing his two students start to ebb away. He still had one student left that he loved. Arashi couldn't push him away. Arashi couldn't lose him.
But as Arashi saw one of his papers hit the wall from a gust of wind, he couldn't help but fear that he already had.
"Think about it, Hokage-sama."
Arashi snapped his head up in time to see the third close the office door softly behind him. It was quiet again. All that resided in the room was the incessant ticking of the clock and his own thoughts murmuring to themselves.
Arashi never liked the quiet.
The minutes that ticked by seemed like hours, and Arashi swore that he was going to go insane from the constant tick that made him mess up the words he was writing. Seriously, when words that were supposed to say low mob rate manifested into blow-job date, Arashi thought that he would become bald with all the hair tugging he was doing. He needed a girlfriend. Badly.
Arashi was so absorbed in trying to scribbled out blow and replace it with the right word without having the elders see what had been altered, he almost had an aneurysm at the creak his door made as it opened. With his senses on high alert and paranoia swimming through his veins, Arashi was about to bellow out, 'I didn't mean to write it I swear! I haven't had a date in two months!' before he caught a glimpse of silver hair.
He only faintly heard his pen hitting his desk with a small thud as he saw his last student amble into his office. All thoughts about running out to the store to purchase white-out were forgotten as his trained cerulean eyes noticed a limp in the young teen's step that was trying to be concealed. Arashi took in the sight of a stark-white ANBU jumper that was severely offset by the black undershirt and silver arm guards (and hair). The red splats of blood that were scattered upon the jumper made Arashi's hair stand up on the back of his neck. The eerie wolf mask the boy wore had a slight crack and poorly hid the teen's ragged breathing. Arashi could feel a lump form in his throat as words he was prepared to say vanished.
The small ANBU stood before Arashi, shoulders set back professionally as he fished out a scroll from his pouch and laid it upon the desk. Arashi paid the important document no mind as he desperately asked himself why he let the boy join the elite hunter-nin force in the first place.
"Mission completed, Hokage-sama."
It was a voice that was without a body. It was cold and distant, like whispering through a dank tunnel. It was crisp and to the point. It was much too old for the small body... It wasn't Kakashi.
"The mission went smoothly, Hokage-sama."
Don't call me that. Please, don't call me that.
"Kakashi..."
The voice went on in auto-pilot, "There were no casualties, Hokage-sama."
Stop it. Just stop, Kakashi... You don't need to be strong for me.
"Kakashi, don't..."
"I made sure of it."
And there it was. To anyone else, it would've sounded just like all his other robotic sentences, but no. This phrase was a little more deep, a little more personal. The cold voice became sharp and determined. Arashi tried to grab onto the sliver of emotion, "Kakashi, we need to talk."
The porcelain mask never gave itself away, "The mission was a success, Hokage-sama. I don't see anything that will be needed to discuss."
Arashi felt his heart pang, "Don't call me that, Kakashi."
"I don't see the logic in that, Hokage-sama. You are the Yondaime. It is disrespectful to call you otherwise."
Arashi grounded his teeth, "Dammit Kakashi! Forget about respect! I'm your sensei, not your owner. Just call me sensei. Please."
The ANBU shifted from his right to left side, clearly favoring the other leg, "Is that an order, Hokage-sama."
Arashi looked longfully at Kakashi's still form, trying to recover the boy he used to be that was hiding somewhere under all the equipment and katana, "It's a request."
Kakashi balled his fists slightly at his sides, "Then I am not required to obey. Hokage-sama."
Where did you go, Kakashi?
With a slight bow, the robotic ANBU started to turn and head for the door. Arashi took hold of his fallen pen, gripping the utensil tightly, trying to hold onto the boy he cared for so deeply. Arashi called out to Kakashi in a soft whisper, knowing the newly recruited ANBU would hear, "I wonder what Obito would say if he saw you now..."
He stopped. Arashi could see Kakashi try and not tense up, try and brush off the words that may have been accidentally harsh. The blonde hokage frowned, "What would he say, Kakashi?"
The silver-haired ANBU's fists shook, his head lowering in presumed shame, "That I failed." He added quietly, under his breath, "I don't see Rin anywhere."
Arashi felt a searing pain go through his heart for the young teen that stood before him. So much weight fell on his slim, becoming-broad shoulders. Too much for a child that faced tragedy in every direction. Arashi watched as a loose paper on the floor flew past Kakashi's legs.
"No.. He'd say to loosen up."
Kakashi's head sprang up, something that the emotional-reigned jounin rarely did. Despite himself, Kakashi turned toward his sensei, eyes staring at the slight, small smile Arashi held unbelievingly. Slowly, the young teen shook his head, "That isn't sensible, Hokage-sama. I refuse to believe that Obito would brush off Rin's death so easily." I refuse to believe he'd forgive me.
Arashi stared at the black eye-holes the white, dog-like mask possessed. The blonde hokage feared that the eyes that laid behind it were just as empty, "You sound like you're trying to convince yourself. You know that's not true."
The ANBU stayed silent.
It's okay, Kakashi...
Arashi could feel tears brim his cerulean eyes as he whispered, "Take off the mask, Kakashi."
Stop hiding behind it. Let me see you.
Instead of hearing a monotone refusal, that it wasn't proper to do so, that it wasn't part of the ANBU code, Arashi could feel himself wince at the small voice that whispered back, "I can't."
I can't let my guard down.
I can't show you these tears.
I can't be weak now.
I can't stop pretending that I'm okay...
Arashi stood from his chair and walked around his desk, standing before the slightly small ANBU, his figure towering over the child prodigy. The fourteen-year-old lifted his chin slightly to look at his sensei, his hokage, in the eye. Arashi tried to resist the temptation to grab onto the boy's shoulders and shake some sense into him. He surprised himself when he breathed out shakily, his voice almost thick with harbored tears, "Yes, you can."
You can always let your guard down when you're with me.
You can always show me your tears that I'll never judge.
You can be weak sometimes.
You can stop pretending.
Kakashi stayed silent. His hands never moved to lower the ANBU mask that hid his already hidden face. Arashi swallowed before reaching up tentatively to lightly grasp either side of the dog mask. He let his hands rest there, he tried to find the mismatched eyes that lay beneath the ebony holes, "You always can."
Slowly, gently, Arashi lowered the white and red mask from his student's face. Mismatched eyes gazed into his cerulean orbs, an unreadable emotion residing in his grey eye like always. The sharingan blinked at him, trying to get used to the light that had been sprung upon it. Arashi couldn't help but feel Obito was staring at him through the lazily spinning tomoes. A steady, silent flow of tears cascaded from the red weapon, soaking one side of Kakashi's navy mask. Arashi let the ANBU mask drop to the floor with a pang. The sharingan and grey eye swivelled to the fallen mask, then back to his sensei's stare with a stare of his own.
Arashi placed both hands upon Kakashi's shoulders, trying not to stare into the sharingan, and tried hard not to break, "It's not alright, but it's not the end of the world. You need to hold onto life, Kakashi. You need to embrace it, not try and shatter it with your kunais. No matter how much you deny it, you need someone. It goes against all the ninja rules, but you do. But that's okay, because I need someone too."
Arashi saw Kakashi flutter his sharingan shut, the pinkish-white scar slicing his eyelid in two. The blonde hokage couldn't help but to trace the jagged mark with a finger, "You're still trying to be strong for both of us, Kakashi. You need to realize that it's okay to be weak for a moment. It's okay to cry."
Kakashi narrowed his eyes briefly, but his heart wasn't in his glare, "You never cry."
Hokage don't cry.
Arashi felt a cold liquid trace his cheek, leaving a salty streak behind. He couldn't help but laugh airily, "I am now."
The young hokage watched as Kakashi's lone, dun eye traced the path of the tear that marred his face. He could spot a fleeting glint of mesmerization appear in Kakashi's eye at the fact that a hokage was weeping. Arashi could see water build up in his student's tear duct, his grey eye shimmering with the liquid, amplifying his true self. For a moment, even if for only a second, Arashi could see into Kakashi's soul. For one brief second in a world that offered no condolences, Arashi could see Kakashi. His Kakashi.
Hatake Kakashi blinked the oncoming tears away.
However, he couldn't stop the closed sharingan's waterfall.
Arashi could feel tears gracing his face with such an easy fluidity, such an easy acceptance. With each plop upon the ground, Arashi could feel his tight hold upon his emotions slip and fall away. The blonde, weeping hokage memorized how Kakashi stared at him in that moment. It was quiet, a steady silence settling upon the two disheartened shinobi. The silver-haired ANBU never let his dun eye leave the crying cerulean ones. Slowly, Kakashi let his gaze fall upon the smile that still etched itself languidly upon his sensei's young (yet somehow older) face.
Arashi didn't bother to wipe his tears away.
It was about time that they fell.
A sharp intake of breath shattered the easy silence that had enveloped the room. Arashi felt his smile run away as his heart squeezed in concern for his jounin student. The boy's eyes were wide with fear (the sharingan being released in the heat of the moment), or was it shock? Arashi felt his pulse racing with his brain as he tried to deduce what could cause the silver-haired ninja's gasp. An unforseen injury perhaps?
"Kakashi–?"
Arashi held onto his words as he saw what made his student tremble.
One, lone tear.
Somehow (how he could never explain), the liquid had escaped from its tight barrier and chains behind a grey, enigmatic eye. Kakashi lifted a hand to his salted cheek, touching the wet path in shock.
Slowly, Kakashi raised his eyes to Arashi, a questioning stare.
The blonde hokage could still feel his own tears escaping, "I can't lose you just yet, Kakashi."
Kakashi didn't say anything in return, only wiping the salty residue from his face before bending down to retrieve his discarded ANBU mask. Arashi could feel his heart plummeting into the fiery flames of doom below as Kakashi raised the porcelain to cover his face. There was a slight pause before the silver-haired teen decided against the action. Instead, he strapped it to the side of his head.
Arashi released a breath he hadn't known he was harboring.
Kakashi closed his scarred eye and gave the blonde ninja one last gaze (slightly more readable than the rest) before uttering, "Then don't lose yourself... Sensei."
A slight bow.
A slight 'pop'.
And Hatake Kakashi was gone.
Arashi was left with only a small amount of dissipating smoke and the ticking of the clock. He felt himself wobble before he leaned heavily upon his desk, adrenaline rushing through his veins. The fourth couldn't help himself as a broad smile overtook his somber features in that moment and another airy laugh shook his frame slightly. With a deep breath, the blonde ninja walked around his desk to plop himself back into his chair.
If Arashi was asked after that if he was the one who saved Kakashi that day, Arashi would only shake his head. In the end, Kakashi saved himself...and maybe a few others along the way (he'd never admit that maybe he, the hokage, were part of those 'few').
It was quiet again.
Arashi didn't mind.
The quietness was new.
But it wasn't unwelcome this time around.
o-o-o-o-o
"So what would you name him?"
"Ah.. Such a hard question. This isn't one of those psychological tests that all answers lead to me sleeping on the couch, right?"
"Of course not! Why would you ever think that, 'Rashi?"
"Because you're cruel, manipulative, but oh-so lovely."
"Only you can wrap insults into a compliment, Arashi.."
"It got me where I am today. You should be proud."
"Stop evading the question, Hokage-sama."
"That's the problem. Right there. You want me to pick out an extravagant name, but you won't give me the light of day to make a decision!"
"Ugh. Fine, fine. Go ahead, I'll give you two days of light."
"That's all I ask."
00
"It cannot take you, the fourth hokage, this long to pick out ANY sort of name."
"Excuse me, I don't think that was even a minute of light."
"Arashi..."
"Okay, okay! How about... Oh I can't do it."
"What? What do you mean you can't do it??"
"I just know Kakashi's gonna be jealous when he comes. He was an only child! The transition is going to kill him!"
"Arashi. Kakashi's turning fifteen this September. I think he can handle it. Besides, it'd be nice to push him in the right direction – that he has his own food to devour at his own apartment."
"You're so harsh."
"And you're such a worrywart. He'll be fine, trust me. Now, pick a name."
"Well, after that insult, I don't know if I want you to be graced with its eloquence."
"I know you're hokage, but that's a little too much credit."
"Here we go again with the insults."
"Fine. I guess we'll just have to name him Isosceles."
"No! Your twice-removed step-brother is having no say in this!"
"Oh, but Kakashi can?"
"I thought 'Icha' was quite charming."
"I swear... I hope that boy never teaches children."
"Now that's just mean."
"Arashi! What name did you pick out already!?"
"Since you asked so nicely..."
"That couch is pretty tempting right now, you know.."
"Fine. Naruto."
00
"Oi! Oi! Stop laughing!"
"N-naruto? Are you serious? Our child is going to be named after a fish-paste cake?"
"It'll bring a smile to everyone's face! Everyone loves naruto in their ramen!"
"Yeah, everyone will be smiling, trying to conceal their laughter! My Kami, could you imagine the ridicule and torture he'd go through?"
"I guess you set up the couch beforehand?"
"Pfft. 'Naruto'.. And you thought 'Kin' was a bad idea."
"What if he doesn't get my genes, huh? Then he'll be pestered about why his name means 'gold' for the rest of his life!"
"But you rather him be questioned about why he's named after a fish-paste cake. Sometimes, Arashi, I just don't know what the Sandaime saw in you."
"Shut up! I'm new at this!"
o-o-o-o-o
A/N: Well there you go. I just couldn't resist another oneshot, even though my chapter-story is still sitting idly, unfinished in my documents. Eheh..–sweat drops–
This idea just sprung onto me one day and once I started writing, I just couldn't stop. It was originally going to be maybe a 2-3 page oneshot dealing with the first scene, but it quickly multiplied into a 31-page (in WordPerfect) timeline. I never wrote a timeline before and I must say, it's very fun to do. Throughout it, I tried out new styles, such as writing one scene in present-time and another with just dialogue.
I think Yondy needs more spotlight. I'm sorry that I had to use one of the speculated names for Yondaime (Arashi) but I couldn't keep writing 'Konoha Yellow Flash' or 'blonde dude' or 'Yondaime'. So, Arashi it is. I personally like it better than Kayaku. But, anyways, I just wanted to bring to everyone's attention: I DON'T KNOW IF ARASHI IS YONDAIME'S REAL NAME. NO ONE KNOWS HIS REAL NAME! (as of yet, anyways..)
So, this is very Yondaime-centric, but Team Yondy has starring roles too. I was lost as to what people were alive that were around Yondaime's age group so he could have someone to interact with other than his team and the Sandaime. Didn't find anyone, but w/e. I had a "mysterious guest" in the last scene though. Haha.
Another note: I know Rin isn't from the Inuzuka clan. I only made the assumption for the story's sake and also because her cheek markings kinda resemble Kiba's. AND I know that Rin's birthday isn't in the summer (it's in November) but it was too late to change it once it was written. So please pardon that error.
Please excuse the long, babbling author's note. I still have so many words left in me today, so I'm off to do another oneshot (stupid muses). Please review and tell me what you think and if I should continue with more scenes. I still have plenty of plot bunnies left!
Thanks for reading.
- - H. 92