okie doke, here's chapter two. Thank all my first reviewers and all the favs and stuff I got, it was really nice opening my email to all that. Oh, and if anyone wants to read the history of Sasuke and Kaede (Mikoto's parents), go read my first two stories, which are Heart of An Uchiha Boy and Konoha Hearts, they're very good. THanks!
Luv ya
Nicola
As soon as Dad had dismissed me from the kitchen, and I'd run out of the house in a flurry, I made a beeline for the Hokage temple, knowing that would be where I'd find Soma. He never left the house until I got there, unless I'd asked him to meet me somewhere or come get me to save me from the wrath of Mom. And it worked; considering Mom was ever-so-fond of my best friend, thank Kami.
On the way there, my stomach twisted and flipped and contorted in ways I'd never thought possible, driving my nerves insane. Behind my ribs my heart pounded away loudly. I had never wanted to disapprove my father, not ever. He was, in truth, my idol, the person I looked up to most and who I wanted to be like. But he'd always sort of looked down on me, if you can understand that. Like I wasn't exactly up to his standards or something. I mean, the way he watched and talked to Itake…that was how I wanted him to treat me. I wanted him to look at me that way, to talk to me like I was a person of his standards, of his level. Not to say he didn't love me—I knew he did—but he didn't show it. And I knew that his way of showing that he cared was by sparring with you, and talking to you (which was a feat in itself), and treating you like a human being. With me, he just sort of acted like I wasn't in the room most of the time.
I closed my eyes for a long moment, pausing in my mad dash to the temple to stop the tiny tears brimming behind my eyelids. No, I wouldn't cry. If Soma saw that I'd been crying—and he knew everything about me, and could even tell if I'd sniffled—then he'd want to know why, and I'd have to tell him, and all this other stuff that I would really rather avoid. So I put up an imaginary dam in front of my tear ducts, and was on my merry way.
The temple was in sight, and in a moment I was in front of the gates, greeting the two guards there. They were a couple of bored-looking Jounin, and lazily opened the gates to let me pass through. I jogged up the path, trying my hardest not to look to urgent, and into the main courtroom. Ignoring the elegant carvings and the gorgeous chandelier overhead, I ducked down a side hallway, and ran down it until it ended in a kitchen. I slowed before I reached the doorway and smoothed my hand over my black hair. Hey, I could still look a little more presentable, couldn't I?
As expected, Soma was sitting at the round wooden table there, munching on a piece of buttered toast. To his right was his father, then Arashi, and his mother was up pouring herself another glass of orange juice. I'd been raised alongside all these people, and they'd all seen me at my worst, but still, I was a little bit self-conscious.
"Hey, Mikoto!" Soma greeted cheerily, patting the chair beside him. Gratefully I took it, and stole a piece of toast off his plate, biting absently into the crisp bread.
"Good morning, Mikoto," Naruto said, looking up from a bowl of (duh) ramen. "How're your parents doing?" Of course he knew how Mom and Dad were, but apparently it was some sort of formality or something.
"Pretty good," I answered automatically as Soma stood up to place his plate in the sink. His mother, Sakura, took it from him and smiled lovingly at him.
She then looked towards me, still smiling. "That's good. You tell your mother that she needs to come over sometime, okay?"
"Yes, Sakura-san," I agreed, getting up when Soma gestured for me to follow him out of the kitchen. "I will. But I didn't see her this morning, I'll tell her later."
"Where'd Kaede be this early?" Naruto wondered aloud, sounding astonished. Next to him, Arashi stifled a snicker. I scowled. I really hated it when people acted like they didn't like my mother, just because of her past mistakes.
"Probably off—ow, Soma! Watch it!" Arashi rubbed the pack of his head where Soma had whacked him. Soma glared at his older brother, green eyes ablaze, and held his hand out for mine.
"Come on, Mikoto. Let's go." I gladly took his outstretched limb and we walked out of the room.
Over my shoulder I called, "Bye, Sakura-san! Bye, Naruto-sama!"
While we walked out, I couldn't help but feel a good deal happier now that Soma was with me, holding my hand. He held my hand every day, but it never got old or irritating. He was like a solid, comforting barrier between me and my troubles, and he was always there, never moving, constantly offering a warm hug or a kiss on the forehead to cheer me up.
Yet the hollow feeling in my leaping stomach still wouldn't go away.
Like I should've expected, the moment we were beyond the gates surrounding the temple, Soma stopped me in my tracks. I stumbled, being as clumsy as I was, of course, and he had to catch me to put me back on balance. He was used to it, though, and by now didn't even have to look to know what I was going to do next. By the time I looked back up at him, I saw disapproval and worry in his eyes.
"What's the matter, Mikoto?" he asked gently, staring me straight in the eyes. Okay, now if you know what it's like to have the biggest crush on a guy so handsome and sweet and all that, and to have him look at you like that and be genuinely worried and upset that you're upset, it's the best feeling in the world, as if you could just lift up and fly away without wings. That was how I felt at that moment, with wings on my heavy heart.
"Nothing," I lied, badly. Soma wrinkled his nose, knowing I was fibbing, and started walking again. I followed, since he still had my hand. His eyes stayed directly on the ground, while I couldn't take mine off of his handsome face. The smooth, elegant lines of his jaw and cheeks, deep hollows where his glittering green eyes were set, the way his pink hair fell over his forehead and only just over his eyes. It made my heart want to melt.
We walked in silence together, hand in hand, through the streets of Konoha. In the most likely scenario, Soma was working out a reason for me to be upset in his head, although I'd thought I'd hidden it very well. Apparently not. Soma was an extremely intelligent ninja, and at sixteen, he was ranked high in the ANBU. I wouldn't have been surprised if a ninja had come up to him at that very moment and given him another mission to go on. He got them all the time.
We reached a small tea shop that Soma pulled me into. Again, I tripped over my feet, but this time I was able to recover by myself. Soma still held onto my arm steadily, though, and we took our seats at the counter. Soma ordered hot green tea for the two of us and tugged a bandana out of his pocket. I rolled my eyes, knowing just what it was. Whenever Soma got a little self-conscious of his hair, he'd whip out this black bandana and tie it around his head so that the pink couldn't be seen. Personally, I found the pink hair to be adorable.
Our tea arrived, and I sipped it slowly, reluctantly returning to my thoughts about the whole Dad situation. What was I going to do, have someone perform surgery on me to make my Sharingan activate quicker? And what had Dad meant by saying my ability wasn't activating at all, and that my eyes were dull? They'd always been dull, hadn't he noticed? I guess not. I sighed, thinking that if Itake's eyes had been dull from the start, Dad would have seen and remembered.
Why he couldn't just glance down every now and then and look at me like he looked at Itake, I didn't know. It was always about how well my brother was doing, not about my own accomplishments. When I'd graduated from the academy, he didn't come to my graduation ceremony—he sent my mother. He'd come to the Chunin exams probably because Itake had been the proctor, and he'd left before I'd been announced a Chunin. The same thing happened with the Jounin exams, and he hadn't even seemed happy that I'd been taken into the lower ranks of the ANBU. All he cared about, ever, was Itake.
I swirled the tea around in my cup, staring down at he dark liquid in the white china without really seeing it. The one real time Dad had looked at me like I was his daughter, and worthy of being looked at, was when I'd mastered the Chidori jutsu. I'd been taught by Itake, of course, but nonetheless, Dad was there to watch me successfully gauge a large hole in the front of a boulder with the lighting in my hand. It had been the proudest moment of my life, until his eyes had turned blank and bored again, and he'd left without a single word of encouragement.
Still, though, I couldn't forget the look on his face when I'd hit the boulder, the pride, the happiness, even if it had only been for a split second. The image was burned into my mind, and every time I went to train I forced myself to compare it with how my Dad looked at me on a normal day. Hell, on a normal day, he barely paid attention to me, much less looked at me, and it hurt to have him do that.
This morning had been a stretch to have him grab onto my arm and speak to me, and normally I would've been happy, if only his words hadn't been disappointed and disgusted. The way he'd said them…you would've thought I'd beaten a puppy to death or something. I knew that my Sharingan wasn't active, and had never even hinted at activating, but I wasn't at fault. How could I have prevented my Sharingan? Why would I prevent my Sharingan? It was only the single most important thing in my life that I strove to accomplish every single freaking day! Yeah, it's not like it's anything significant or meaningful.
Taking another hesitant sip of my tea, I tried to ignore my reflection in the mirror on the other side of the counter, behind the server. But by some evil need, my eyes were drawn to it, and I was forced to look at the dejected teenager in front of me. Blank but somehow tortured expression, dull, nearly-black-smoke colored eyes, sharp cheekbones, straight, slim jaw, smoothly carved, pale face. If it had been anyone other than me, I would have found them beautiful. But it was me, the ashen-eyed girl in the mirror was me, and I couldn't see her as a creature of beauty. Because I wasn't. I only saw the minute flaws in my face, the split ends of my hair, the problems with my eyes, my Sharingan-less eyes.
Somber, shadowy, dreary, was how I'd describe the girl in the mirror, because I knew it was me.
And to make matters worse, at that moment, the absolutely gorgeous Hyuga Arana walked in on the arm of Nara Gakuto in all of her amazing splendor. She had such a well-defined face, trim, muscular figure, and stunning eyes that even I had a time taking my gaze off of her. No wonder Itake and Arashi swarmed her like bees every time she came near them. And to think she landed a guy like Gakuto, too. Some girls just had all the luck in the world.
Forcing myself to smile cheerfully, I raised my hand in a wave and Arana returned the greeting. She sat down next to me, and Gakuto plopped in a seat on her other side.
"Hey," he said, and I smiled, not in much of a mood to talk. Besides, it was sort of hard to concentrate on anyone else when a goddess of beauty was in front of you. Not that I went that way or anything, but don't you just get moments when you see someone who's absolutely gorgeous and you can't move away because you're in something of a jealous awe? That was how I felt whenever Arana was around.
"How are you, Mikoto?" Arana asked, her lips tilting in the most charming of smiles. I swore that if she wanted to, she could become one of those famous geisha you hear about, but her passion was fighting, and that's what she wanted to do. I didn't understand it, but whatever.
"Alright, yourself?" I replied, fighting back the obscurity in my voice that I knew would show through otherwise.
Arana shrugged. "Pretty good." Her eyes flicked towards Gakuto and back, and the dark-brown-haired ninja smirked. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him for a quick kiss. I politely looked away, wishing that someone (particularly a pink-haired someone with a black bandana on) would kiss me like that.
"And what about you, Soma?" Arana queried.
Soma looked around in a rush, startled at being brought into the conversation. Maybe he, too, had been trying to avoid looking at the Hyuga woman. "Erm, fine, thanks. Gakuto," he added.
"Soma," Gakuto greeted, and turned to order tea for himself and Arana.
"Have you two been out training already this morning?" Arana wanted to know, and I shook my head.
"No, not today." Soma gave me a look of incredulity, but I nudged him with my foot under the counter. "We're just going to bum around for now. Maybe we'll train later," I added, just so Soma would quit gritting his teeth next to me.
"Oh, well, that's good," Arana said, and took a sip of the tea the server had set in front of her. She didn't look as if she'd tried to look good, I noticed, seeing that her hair was lazily thrown up into a loose ponytail, with frizzy little pieces sticking up here and there, and her clothes were just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that looked like it was, or once had been, Gakuto's. "We're gonna take the day off, too. Maybe we'll see you around," she added, because Soma had stood and taken my hand, tugging me along.
"Yeah, see ya!" I said, waving as we ducked out of the tea shop. The second we were down the street far enough so that Arana and Gakuto couldn't see us, Soma spun me around and glared at me.
"What do you mean, we're not training today?" he asked, sounding annoyed.
The image of an angry Dad already forming itself in my mind, I replied, "Umm, well, I just don't feel up to it today, okay?"
"Fine," Soma said a little snippily, and let go of my hand. I immediately felt insulted and alone, because he always held my hand, no matter what arguments we got into. Maybe he was just ticked because I wouldn't tell him what was wrong, but I should've figured that it would only set him off more if we weren't training today. He was really serious about working on his skills and getting up to his father's level, and to him, a missed training session was like a missed doctor's appointment where you were supposed to receive the cure for your quickly-acting fatal illness.
I looked down at the ground under my feet and kicked at the dirt. "Sorry, Soma," I murmured, not really sorry but just saying it to keep him from being mad at me.
"Whatever, Mikoto," he griped, and shoved his hands into his pockets in a way that reminded me of, well, me. "See you tomorrow, then."
I watched him leave (more like watched his feet leave, really) in a quiet, solemn manner. Once he'd disappeared into the crowd, I moved my gaze upwards and let out a heavy sigh. Why did my life have to suck all of a sudden? I mean, really. Had I done something to upset whatever God was up there? As I silently asked these questions, the cheerful blue sky seemed to grin on me, like it was all just one big, nasty joke on poor, stupid Mikoto, whose brother excelled in everything, whose father couldn't stand to look at her, and now whose best friend was angry with her. Life did suck.
Soon, though, I was forced to start walking and quit angrily confronting the sky, because the crowds were getting thicker and I knew they wouldn't appreciate it if I stood there like a rock in the middle of the road. So I started to walk along at my own sluggish pace—hey, if they didn't like it, they'd better suck it up and get over it. I wasn't in the mood to deal with an angry group of people, and was having a hard enough time not tripping over my own two feet. Again.
I was shoved and jostled a little bit, but that was to be expected when one was in such a huge crowd, really. Of course, after a while it was starting to tick me off and I turned on the next guy who had given me a pretty nasty shove.
"Watch it," I snarled, and the guy, a nice-looking young Jounin with a scar on his left cheek seemed taken aback.
"Sorry, little girl," he apologized, but only succeeded in making me angrier.
"I'm not little," I snapped, and glared at the woman who'd been about to push me to get through the throngs of people.
"Jeez, sorry, alright!" The Jounin scowled and started to walk away. I stood there, fuming and not knowing why. The guy had to be at least Itake's age, and of course he would refer to me as little, seeing as I was younger and shorter than him. And there was no reason for me to flip out like that. Biting my lip, I searched the crowd for him and caught sight of his head bobbing a few feet away. I burst into a run, dodging people left and right until I'd managed to reach him.
"Hey, wait!" I hollered, grabbing onto his arm. The Jounin swiveled and, seeing me, rolled his eyes.
"What now, kid?" he muttered. "Look, I don't have time to deal with a bratty little girl, alright? So just leave me alone." He jerked his arm to try and get it out of my grasp, but I held firm, and he stared at me, startled that I was so strong.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have acted like I did to a superior, okay? Sorry." I let him go, and he nodded, lightly touching me on the shoulder.
"It's fine." He turned, but glanced back and stared into my eyes, making me feel extremely self-conscious. "Hey, aren't you Itake's little sister?"
Taking a deep breath to calm the irritation, I replied, "Yeah. I'm Mikoto. And you are?"
"Hayato," he said, and I smiled.
"Nice to meet you, Hayate." After a pause, I went on, "So how's it like working with Itake?"
Hayato groaned. "A nuisance, really. Have you ever noticed how highly he thinks of himself?"
I giggled. "Every single day." We started walking, and for a moment as we laughed, I felt a sudden calm wash over me. Right now, I could ignore the stabs of pain, sadness, and regret, and have a nice chuckle with some random Jounin who knew my brother and how annoying Itake could get.
"I bet it's pretty hard to be his little sister, right?" Hayato asked as soon as we'd stopped laughing. I nodded, thinking that he had no clue how hard it was. Sure, Itake could be a nice older brother, but he was also an arrogant prat.
"Very, very hard," I said carefully, trying to be picky about what words I used. "He's a perfectionist, amazing at everything he does. He even makes washing the dishes seem like a graceful, important skill. And I don't know how he does it!"
Hayato laughed at the amazement and jealousy that was obvious in my voice. "I have two older siblings, a sister and a brother, and they always shot me down in everything I ever did. But eventually, I got up to their level and they left me alone."
I scoffed, doubting that Itake would ever quit, much less that I would ever get up anywhere near his level. I didn't have the Sharingan—the Sharingan was everything! "I hope something like that happens between Itake and me. Otherwise, I'll end up trying to kill him in his sleep!"
Hayato chuckled again, and the sound of it was like the sound of a baritone singer laughing his way through a song. It was pleasant, and made me feel nice and comfortable, even though I barely knew this guy. I didn't even know his last name! But hey, we had a common ground: we both were irritated and annoyed with Itake.
"So, what is such a young girl doing out here by herself without an escort?" Hayato asked, and I shrugged, fighting back the stiffness spreading through my shoulders. Hadn't I already told him I wasn't little?
"Just walking around," I explained, but I didn't meet his gaze, so he kept on looking at the side of my face until I went on, "I did have someone with me, but he got mad at me and ran off."
"Oh?" Hayato seemed curious, innocently curious, but I didn't trust him enough that I would tell him any more than I already had. "And who would this be?"
"No one that you'll know about," I answered smoothly, without skipping a beat. Hayato gave a short, low laugh.
"You have a quick tongue, Mikoto," he commented. I smiled sweetly.
"I know." He laughed again.
We stopped by the ramen shop and he bid me goodbye, promising to stop by sometime and say hello, if Itake didn't irk him to death by then, that is. I laughed at that, waved, and walked away, heading back towards home. I had nothing else to do, and now that I'd talked to Hayato (for however short a time), I felt a little more confident about going back to the house and facing my Dad again. Since Mom hadn't shown up at breakfast this morning, I still assumed that she was out on some mission, and that meant I was alone with Dad. Itake was out training with his squad again, so when I got back to the house, the only one there was Dad, sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. I attempted to tiptoe past him, but he summoned me over with a sharp call, and I walked over, reluctantly.
"Yes, Dad?" I asked, standing politely to the side of the couch, just close enough that I could dart down the hallway if I felt the conversation wasn't going in my favor. "Is something wrong?"
"Come sit down." I obeyed, sitting next to him on the couch and turning to face him, pulling my knees to my chest and resting my chin on them. He looked hard into my face, his own expression stone cold as always.
"What?"
Dad shook his head. "There's something wrong with you." Of course, bluntly he states what he thinks is my problem, but vaguely he avoids specifying it. Typical.
"And what would be wrong with me?" I requested, a little snippily, earning myself the death glare. I resisted the urge to flinch and wondered why it always seemed like he saved that look for me and me alone. I couldn't recollect any time he'd used it on Itake, his precious child prodigy.
"Your eyes."
I rolled them obstinately, and Dad got slowly to his feet, heading for the kitchen. I knew I'd insulted him, but I didn't care right now. He made me nervous enough without trying the whole insulted sob act thing on me and making me apologize. Sure, I knew I would have to apologize in due time, but not at the moment. So I, too, got to my feet and followed him into the kitchen. Once again, the only thing in the cabinet was Mom's fruity granola bars, so I sadly picked a bar with banana bits in it and tore open the wrapper. It wasn't as good as the chocolate chip ones, but it would do.
For a few minutes Dad and I just sort of stood there in the kitchen in an awkward silence, me shifting my feet every few minutes, Dad looking everywhere but me, almost like he was ashamed to meet my malfunctioning eyes. It stung when he did something like that, but I was used to it by now. The sharp pain I felt when I was around my father sort of dulled down the longer I hung near him, and the less I tried to think of a moment when he hadn't been so aloof towards me.
A smile tugged on my lips as I recalled one of the few times he'd been really, really sweet to me, when I'd been a child. He'd taught me how to throw a ball, how to properly hold and toss kunai and shuriken, how to predict another's moves, how to play patty-cake and sing pop-goes-the-weasel. And how he'd fallen every time I'd given him the cute puppy-dog eyes whenever I'd stolen a cookie or Itake had placed the blame on me for something that probably I'd had a hand in anyway. It was heart-warming to remember those nicer times, really it was.
But that was then, and this was now. Dad and I no longer got along as well as we had in my early days. We barely spoke to one another unless it was in passing or one of our sharp, clipped conversations. There was a reason for that, but I didn't know what it was and doubted if I would ever figure it out. So, with my heart heavy and my mind forcing the invisible dam in front of my tear ducts, I walked slowly out of the kitchen without another glance at my father.
I felt his gaze on my all the way out of the small kitchen, and by the time I was in the hallway, I had to wipe at my eyes to keep the tears from spilling over. So far my dam wasn't working, and really, I was beginning to doubt that it ever would. Images of Itake flashed through my mind and I spat on the floor. Damn him, and damn that stupid father of mine for putting him before me. I was his only daughter, was that the reason? Because I was a girl, did he think I wasn't worthy enough? No, Mom would have already proved to him that females were just as good as males.
In my room, I flung myself down on the bed and buried my face into my pillow, hoping the soft surface pressed against my eyes would keep me from crying. It worked, and in a minute I was able to pick my face off the pillow and roll over. I stared at the ceiling, at the plain wooden ceiling I'd never gotten around to decorating. Heck, I hadn't gotten around to decorating my room at all. I glanced over at the dark blue lava lamp, and an idea clicked in my head. I was going to redecorate.
There you have it! Chapter two! I'm so glad I got this done, now to go work on Is Forever Enough for a little bit, and then back to this one, and so on and so on and so on...u get it. anyway, I hope you review very nicely and stuff like that!
Luv ya!
Nicola
