This was written as a backstory fic for the RP Scarlet Spiral, where I play a fourteen-year-old Hayate. You can read more about him there at the RP (link in my profile). This takes place a few days before he first moves into the ANBU compound. Special thanks to my lovely beta, dansunedisco. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Naruto does not belong to me; I just borrow it sometimes. The setting and characters belong to Kishimoto Masashi, with the exception of Gekkou Shizuka and Magami Masato, who are my own creations.
The Ghost in the Walls
The ANBU tattoo still itched, Hayate thought as he gingerly pulled on his shirt, careful not to let the fresh scabs catch on the fabric. It had hurt when he'd gotten it, but it hadn't been anything he couldn't handle - he'd suffered worse. That didn't mean, though, that the fourteen-year-old boy hadn't flinched - just a little, he told himself, just a little - when they'd put the needle to his skin. It still burned slightly.
Hayate knew he was younger than most entering ANBU, but he hadn't let that stop him. There wasn't technically an age barrier for ANBU - just rank - and Hayate had reached tokubetsu jounin within a year of making chuunin, an accomplishment he felt was at least worthy of a moment's praise. His specialty was, of course, in the use of the katana. The fact that he had been able to achieve tokubetsu jounin rank by age fourteen with a specialty in the standard-issue ANBU weapon was, most certainly, a bit of a boost to get him into ANBU, and they had undoubtedly noted that both his mother and uncle had served their time in ANBU. But considering the fact that his uncle Masato had been killed in action within two years of joining ANBU, and the state his mother was in, he didn't think that had been much of a help.
Hayate's mother, Gekkou Shizuka, had seen her last mission three and a half years ago, back when the Third Shinobi War had still raged through the world. That had been why her brother had joined ANBU in the first place - to fight alongside his sister, to try to fill up the ranks that were quickly dwindling. Their last mission had been together.
Hayate was sure that the real details were classified, but he knew enough. When his mother had come back from that mission gone to hell - the only one to come back alive - she went straight from the hospital to the psych ward, and his father didn't think it would do any good to hide the truth. He'd told Hayate everything - everything he knew. He made sure that Hayate, even at only ten and a half years old, understood what had happened to his mother, that she might never be the same again. Hayate thought he understood - he'd tried his best, at any rate. But when his mother finally came back, finally emerged from the psych ward several months later, that didn't stop him from tearing after her and flinging his arms around her waist in a desperate hug. ("Mom! Mom, are you okay?") There had been a brief moment, a terrifying moment, where she'd done nothing at all, simply stood there, and Hayate feared the absolute worst - and then he felt her arms around him, warm and comforting (and somehow thick and cold at the same time) and she murmured to him in a voice raw from months of screaming, "It's all right, Hayate, I'm okay."
The second time had been different.
It had been after the Kyuubi attack. Shizuka wasn't supposed to be back on active duty in ANBU - "indefinite probation", they'd called it, as if they thought she'd be stable enough for it again - but the Kyuubi attack was devastating. They needed the extra hands (the extra bodies), and no one was questioning Shizuka's sanity when she took up the mask once more and fought through those few horrific days back alongside her former comrades.
They should have seen the break coming, but they didn't. They should have expected that bloody, tiring battle to be the one to snap her, but Ken'ichirou was nonetheless horrified and shocked at her attempt on both his and their son's lives shortly thereafter. She was confined once again to the psychiatric ward indefinitely. It was three weeks before they let anyone - even her own family - visit her.
Hayate knew, in retrospect, that he should have known better. He should have known better than to run into that room the way he did, ducking in before his father could even stop him, run straight for his mother and throw his arms around her and cry out those words again ("Mom, are you okay?"). He should have known better than to expect anything, let alone that reassuring embrace, those words of comfort. He should have expected the hands around his neck instead of his shoulders, the wild, unfamiliar look in his mother's eyes as his head lifted to stare at her in horror and fear. He felt the whiplash as his father grabbed him by the back of his shirt and jerked him back, jerked him away, and the half-gasp was almost a choked sob that forced its way out of his throat as he watched the doctors move forward swiftly to subdue her, put her down while she was still screaming about treachery and blood and where is my son, give me back my son!
After that, the doctors told him he wasn't allowed to touch her anymore. She was dangerous, they said. Unpredictable.
Hayate still visited after that, even if he wasn't allowed to touch her. (Even though he wanted nothing more than to just give her a hug.) He had the feeling that the doctors would have preferred it if he never came at all, but they never denied him what he almost felt was his right to see his mother. Maybe it was that he only came every couple of months - sparingly, because as much as he loved is mother (or maybe because of it), it hurt him to see her like that - locked in that small room, thin and ragged from sedative treatments and occasional tube feeding, hair thinning and eyes just as undershadowed as his own. It hurt him to see her desperate and miserable and crazy, screaming for something that was right in front of her but couldn't even see.
He hadn't seen her for two months now, he remembered as he pulled on a light sweater despite the yet-warm weather. Now that he had joined ANBU, he felt almost obligated to see her - to tell her that her son was taking her place in ANBU, picking up where she left off. She probably wouldn't even hear him, wouldn't even register the words, but he had to tell her anyway. As he headed out the door, slipping his feet comfortably into his zouri, he wondered what she would say to that if she were sane and could hear him.
He barely said anything to the receptionist at Konoha Hospital as he shuffled past her, only muttering "Gekkou Shizuka, psych ward" as politely as he could manage - but this particular receptionist knew him, had seen him enough times when he was in for his own health problems and knew him well enough to know why he was here the few times when he wasn't sick. Hayate was familiar with enough of the staff at the hospital to be able to get to his mother's room in the psychiatric ward with few problems and he greeted the doctor standing at her door with a polite nod. The doctor had been expecting him; he usually planned ahead of time to visit his mother and let them know out of sheer courtesy.
"How are you, Hayate-kun?" the doctor asked kindly. It was an empty question. However well Hayate was doing - or not doing - was irrelevant here. It was always the same with his mother.
"I'm fine," Hayate said in a reedy voice, coughing once, and his answer was just as empty as the question. There was a brief pause. "How is she?"
"She's doing fine," the doctor assured him, but Hayate knew what that meant - no new developments, still batshit crazy as ever, probably shouldn't try to kill you as long as you don't touch her. "Would you like to see her now?"
Hayate nodded quietly, feeling his stomach knot slightly, a burning sensation. This always happened when he saw his mother. No matter what the day's events were, good and bad, they all immediately washed away when he stepped into the psychiatric ward and gave way to something... he wasn't sure what to call it. Daunting would have been a good word, but he didn't think that was quite it. It was more... blank than anything. Blank and terrifying but not quite negative, not quite positive.
The doctor nodded back, briefly, and unlocked the door to Gekkou Shizuka's room and pulled it open. (Locked, Hayate thought, it was always locked - she was treated like a caged animal. It was so oddly fitting.) The boy peered inside before entering cautiously, and the doctor followed behind quietly, closing the door behind them. Shizuka was sitting up on her bed in the corner, lying against the wall almost limply - but Hayate could see tension in her shoulders and the wideness of her eyes, bloodshot and staring, darting restlessly. Her arms were free, hanging loosely at her sides and resting on the upset bedding. Hayate knew they never physically restrained her when he was there. Not unless they had to.
He didn't flinch when he looked at her. He didn't show how his stomach turned as he took quiet, small steps toward her while she stared at the wall, then the ceiling, then his feet. The doctor stayed by the door, quiet and unmoving. Hayate had mostly learned to ignore that the doctors were ever even there.
Hayate knew that his breath shook slightly as he drew it in, his large, dark eyes focused on her. "Hi, Mom," he said at last, and kept his voice from wavering, even if it was quiet. Shizuka's eyes snapped up to stare at him now, wide and tired and clouded over with something Hayate couldn't identify - didn't want to identify. She didn't see him. She saw... Hayate didn't even know what she saw. He just knew she didn't see him. He watched her mouth move in silent words.
"I know it's been a little while since I last came to see you," he went on, coughing once. "Things have been busy. I - "
"I can hear you," Shizuka interrupted in a hoarse mutter. "I can hear you. I can hear them, too. They're talking, talking about - "
"I've been training a lot lately," Hayate said, speaking over her. (He didn't want to give her a chance to start screaming. She always started screaming. He just wanted to tell her.) "I just - "
"They're talking about him! I can hear them, you son of a bitch!"
Shizuka's breath was shaky, nostrils flaring. Her eyes burned into Hayate. He flinched this time, but he only swallowed as resolutely as he could. "I just wanted to - to tell you that I joined ANBU, Mom - "
"Who are you?!" Her voice was quickly rising to an almost-panicked shout - a bigger jump than Hayate could ever recall in her before. "Who the fuck are you? What have you done with him?!"
Hayate bit into his lip so hard he thought he might break skin, but he just as soon released it, coughing quietly. He just had to ignore what she was saying. It didn't make any sense. Yelling back at her wouldn't do any good. "Mom, I'm moving into the compound this week - "
"I know you have my son! Where is he?!"
"I won't be living at home anymore. I'll still come to see you, but - "
"Who are you?" She was screaming now, screaming at the top of her lungs through a raw, raw throat, eyes wild. "Who are you and what have you done with my son?"
Hayate's breath hitched and he opened his mouth to speak - but then she was lunging at him, launching herself off the bed at him, and he ducked and slid out of the way instinctively as the doctor, a trained medic-nin (naturally), lurched forward from the back of the room to meet her halfway. It happened too fast for Hayate to remember clearly - all he knew was that when he looked back at his mother - really looked - his heart was thudding and she was still screaming, thrashing against the doctor as he quickly sedated her. Her screams turned into gurgles and the flailing of her limbs subsided, and her arms fell to her sides. Hayate could see her fingers twitch as he straightened up, slowly. The doctor hauled her upright and pulled her back towards the bed, his breathing slightly labored - Hayate could only tell from the way his nostrils flared with each quiet breath.
"I think," the doctor said quietly, "that you ought to go home now, Hayate-kun."
Hayate stared at his mother, swallowing again - hard - and as he watched her, he felt his own fingers twitch with the urge to touch her. He curled his hands into fists, feeling his nails dig into his palms.
Then he nodded, ducking his head to hide the look of chagrin that spread over his face and dulled his eyes. The doctor knew it was there anyway.
"I'm sorry, Hayate-kun. She'd been doing fine before. I didn't expect that to happen."
"It's all right," Hayate said quietly. He lifted his eyes back to his mother on the bed, watched her now that her breathing was slow and steady, a mocking visage of peaceful rest. He bowed quickly, backing out of the room, and decided that maybe it would be a better idea if he didn't come back to visit for a while.
It didn't matter that the doctor hadn't expected it, because Hayate should have known better anyway.