Ahh, whats up? I know there were lots of doubts concerning Kakashi's age and the plausibility of him being on the team. I know. But I thought for a long time about it, and I concluded that I despise creating OC's. Kakashi really was the only one that seemed reasonable among the jonin. Plus, I wanted the last person to be a GUY. Just so I can continue that ratio of 2:1. Guy to girl team ratio thing. I mentioned in the last chapter that he was only on the team for a really short while (let's just say two months) which was long enough to build friendships. Then of course, the team disbanded after Itachi left and Ayame quit. Also, I also hate doing this, but I have to tweak the 'team'. Let's just say that they were so awesome that in those two months, they all got to ANBU. This way, Itachi is the right rank to kill off his clan) I'm gonna leave the rest in mystery so you can read it. XD Bear with me.
Witty
Chapter Two: Flashbacks
Ayame was over it. She was sure she was. So what if Itachi threw away their friendship and massacred his own family, hmm? So what if Kakashi turned into a first class laze and lost every shred of manly dignity by reading that perverted book of his?
It was done, it was the past. There wasn't really any more point in wallowing in pity was there? Nope. Nada. Ayame had constructed a new life for herself. A nice one. Although boring and without accomplishment. One that didn't involve said psychopath and exasperating pervert. One that had about as much violence as a slim butter knife would allow.
Nonetheless, her fingers shook as they carefully fingered the dull blade. Memories of a different knife, a kunai, lustrous with many hours of naïve polishing seemed to appear before her very eyes. Irritated at the recent bouts of irrepressible memories, Ayame dropped the knife into the sink with a frustrated clatter. Cutting veggies could be done later.
"Ayame-chan?" Her father's concerned voice rang from his position behind the counter. That was another thing that Ayame couldn't bear. Her father thought her mentally disabled, mentally scarred, from her times of a ninja. Then again, maybe she was.
But she only grit her teeth and ground out her "I'm fine". And she was. At least, she told herself that. Smiling so brightly it was almost obvious it was fake, she turned calmly on her heel, hung up her apron, let her russet locks loose from their tie, and strode out the stand.
A walk. She needed a walk.
--
It was a nice day out. One of those days that would warrant the Nara's full attention. The lazy clouds rolled slowly across that expanse of blue, looking nothing more than happy, frolicking bunnies.
She slowly meandered along the pedestrian road, taking the way deeper into the country instead of into the bustling city life. With her hands stuffed in the pockets of her pants, she slowly allowed her tense muscles to relax.
The memories that had been bothering her so much after the recent encounter with the second Uchiha were blissfully quiet. The path in front of her winded a bit, and before she knew it, found herself upon the half-forgotten K.I.A. stone.
She paused, almost cursing herself for forgetting such a monumental place.
-Flashback-
"K.I.A, huh?" A small brunette smiled confidently. "Sounds pretty sweet. Best way to go, I say. Fighting for Konoha! Yeah!" The girl pumped her small, delicate fist enthusiastically, and then turned to her companions. "Isn't it?"
"Hardly." A boy, just a little taller than her, snorted. "I'd rather not die at all. Besides, it's not as if anyone could kill me."
The girl, Ayama, scoffed at him. "As if!"
The other boy, towering above them both due to his mountain of silvery hair and slightly elder age, merely shrugged. However, both of them soon noticed the slightly shaky breath that he took.
The brunette frowned, concern crossing her features. "Yo, Hatake, you okay?" She took a seat next to him in the dry grass.
"Fine." Was the sharp reply.
Confused, yet not wanting to pry, the young girl just nodded.
After all, a ninja had other ways instead of prying.
-end-
Ayame took a breath. She remembered the horror when she learned of Kakashi's story. It hadn't exactly shaken her to the core, for such stories were commonplace, but it most certainly had helped her decision to quit later on. She didn't want the gore. The bloody glory wasn't for her to take.
She knelt in front of the famed stone, her stomach twisting slightly at the sheer number of names etched upon the ancient rock. All of them were dead to protect a common goal, and that fact sent a small, hateful shiver through her body. Violence was so utterly pointless.
Her eyes scanned the scraggly writing. Uchiha Obito.
How very influential the Uchiha were. Even in death, and even in exile.
"Yo."
The slight syllable was enough to startle her. Whipping her head around, her eyes rested upon Kakashi slouching with his hands casually placed in his pockets.
"Hello, Kakashi." She replied hurriedly while standing up and brushing the yellowed grass off. It was decidedly awkward, she decided, to meet someone that brought nothing but sour memories.
He inclined his head toward the stone. "Someone you know on there?" The question, rather insensitive, was said in that dull, droning voice.
Her lip twisted. "No." she said curtly. She didn't know what to say. Correction, there was nothing to say. Both were now delving into those memorable early days, yet none dared to bring it up. It was taboo.
Over the years, she had very limited contact with the remaining member of her former team. They had split, she determined to bury her betrayed past, and he determined to continue the path that he had started. And so, here they were now, in very different positions: Him, as one of the most well-known ninjas to mark Konoha's history, and her, hardly a character worth knowing.
He had done his best to avoid her, and she him. There was once, however, where their contact was inevitable. His team, determined to prank him into showing his face, forced the Jonin to her ramen stand. Deciding to humor the teenagers, she had played along, pretending to be awed by the face that she had seen years ago.
"How go the missions?" she asked politely.
He seemed to squint at her. "Walk with me, Ayame."
--
Ayame wanted to writhe with embarrassment. The ninja seemed to have no conception of worldly small talk. After Kakashi had ever so casually invited her on the walk, he had not opened his mouth, not even once.
Ayame, in truth, had no idea the purpose Kakashi had planned up his sleeve. From the small tidbits of memories that she still remembered with varying degrees of clarity, Kakashi had always moved forward, always planning, always with some sort of ulterior motive. His genius, in the form of lazy contemplation, was rare to see.
Her own genius had always been simplicity. She came from a family of ramen chefs, hardly famous like Itachi's Uchiha clan or Kakashi's legacy from the White Fang, and yet, her fleet movements and control over her own strength placed her high above those with fancy family jutsus. Just a genius born into the wrong clan.
Looking back on it now, however, Ayame decided it was her comparatively normal childhood that preserved her essence of humanity. The Uchiha and Kakashi were born directly into the world of fighting.
"Asuma died recently." Kakashi finally said. He had stopped walking, his head slightly bowed but voice bland.
Ayame's head shot up, her eyes widening. She remembered the spiky-fisted ninja from the academy days. "Asuma?" her voice wavered a little, as if close to cracking. Kurenai would be devastated.
Kakashi only nodded.
Ayame rubbed her arms, warding off the sudden chill. "I really hate bloodshed. I really do."
"Don't all of us?"
"Apparently not enough to leave it."
Kakashi began walking again, having no real answer to give. She followed.
"Ayame, we need you right now." He spoke up rather suddenly.
She froze. "For what?"
He turned to face her fully. "We don't have enough jonin. Not enough to be as formidable of a force was we used to be." Ahh. So that's what this was all about.
She shook her head firmly. "No."
"Come on. I know you haven't trained in many years, but you were good, very good the time that you were."
"No."
Kakashi looked vaguely unsettled. "Not even for the well-being of Konoha?"
"Not even for that."
--
"Kyaaaa!" The sound that was unmistakably Maito Gai's voice rang with alarming sharpness.
Both Kakashi and Ayame whipped their heads to the noise, they eyes narrowed in similar contemplation.
"You horrible, most unyouthful Akatsuki! How dare you come back into this village!"
With a gasp, and only a moment's hesitation, both of them sprinted toward Gai's voice.
She and Kakashi came upon Gai single handedly fighting two members of Akatsuki. Kakashi lunged into action, but Ayame stayed put, held in place by the vow she had made a long time ago.
Upon seeing her, one of the members stilled his movements, and lifted the straw hat that covered the top part of his face.
Ayame felt like she had just swallowed a cold rock.
It only took one square look into his eyes before Ayame felt herself crumbling. Those eyes were indifferent, cold, and whizzing with intelligence. There was just such an aura of calculation that made his beautiful crimson eyes reveal their wickedness. The crimson color made her knees weaken and her hands to shake. His face, however, sent her mind reeling. Handsome as ever, he looked barely changed from the times when he was her trusted comrade.
The utter familiarity of his stance made her head wince and spin. More and more memories swirled into her mind, played in fast forward mode, then continued into another scene.
Those eyes continued to appraise her, flashing from a couple centimeters above the rim of his dark cloak.
Mysterious. Cold. Powerful.
Itachi's aura betrayed nothing else.
And as she looked further, the twin pools of blood brought her into another time.
-flashback-
Ayame hummed happily as she skipped down the street. In her hand, she expertly twirled her favorite kunai, every now and then tossing it high into the air and catching it with equal ease.
Smiling and pleased with herself, she couldn't wait to tell Itachi the news. Giggling to herself, she felt very satisfied as she recalled the feeling of being told that her team passed into ANBU. Oh yeah, bring on the masks! In her opinion, the ANBU test had been ridiculously easy, another triumph to add to the pristine records of Konoha's prodigy team.
Her euphoric mood was shattered the second she pushed open the wooden gates to the Uchiha compound.
Bodies, mangled and slaughtered
Horrific expressions plastered on their faces
Twitching, spastic movements as some writhed on the throes of death
Blood
Blood blood blood
She sank to the ground as the rotting stench crept up her nose. The reeking smell of blood burned her eyes and forced out the tears. Her fingers became stained with blood as they desperately tried to clench the grass.
Itachi!
Her body lunged forward slightly, urging her to find Itachi- to make sure he was still alive. She looked up, eyes darting everywhere in attempt to glimpse the dark-haired genius. But almost instantly, her vision seemed blotted out. All she could see was the color red, pushing toward her in a huge tidal wave of hostility. The blood from the body beside her seeped into the ground, rolling along the ground toward her like fingers reaching for her soul. Blood colored the ground red and they seemed to be stretching toward her, determined to engulf her into their redness.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but it was no use. Red painted her world.
Staggering onto her feet in an enormous feat of mental strength, she leapt forward, straight into the seas of bloody red.
She had to find Itachi. He would most definitely hunt down whoever did this. She stumbled in house after house, becoming more and more bloodied as she tripped over the bodies and flipped over those who looked like Itachi.
She found Itachi after hearing a scream from his house. Rushing into the doorway, she was hardly prepared to see the sight that she did. A long ANBU sword, very new according to the price tag that still stuck to its hilt, was slowly being pulled out of Uchiha Fugaku's body with a sickening 'scweech'. Holding the sword was no other than Itachi, his spinning red eyes the same shade as the blood that spotted his blade.
From that minute on, the color red meant death.
"Itachi!" she shrieked, gripping her kunai so hard her knuckles stuck out like odd little bundles of bone. She lurched forward, her eyes misted from tears.
Itachi turned, and the frightening change that had overcome him overnight was there. Just yesterday, his soft black eyes had smiled at her, telling her the ANBU test would be easily aced. And now, his eyes were that damned crimson, with black splotches dancing in circles. For a second, his eyes seemed to widen, and his stance grow rigid with horror. But soon, he relaxed, and his eyes once again took on that murderous sheen.
"Ayame. I didn't expect you so quickly." His voice was that deep baritone.
"I'm surprised you expected me at all." Her voice cracked, her heart and mind broken. "Why did you do such a thing?" Tears now freely left her eyes, like rain from reluctant clouds.
He cocked her head to the side, his eyes never once leaving her own teary ones. "Power."
She then felt her anger solidifying. "Power? You've got enough damn power!"
He hefted his sword, and took a couple steps in her direction. "There's never enough power."
She just shook her head, not able to respond to his reasoning. Itachi took more steps in her direction. "Ayame… you wouldn't understand this." There was only the slightest bit of traceable pleading in his voice. "Konoha isn't enough for us. Come with me. You have more potential than what you have now."
"No!" Her voice regained its strength. "Never, you fucking bastard! Wanting more power than is really right for a human is… is fucking wrong! Wrong wrong wrong!" She flung her kunai at him, watching angrily as it bounced off his sword. "I'll take you down today. You fucking murderer."
His eyes glinted appreciatively at her determined gaze. "Then let's fight one last time, Ayame."
The resulting whirl of steel and strength would leave any bystander breathless with admiration. Ayame, her form gracefully flipping back and forth, would have looked utterly stunning had not been for the trail of sparkling tears that sailed through the air in her wake. Itachi, his long katana elegantly flashing light around the room, looked calm and proficient. It looked as if they could have fought forever.
Ayame, however, was fast tiring from the high speed fight. Very rarely did she have to fight someone as prodigious has Itachi, and her endurance was expiring.
Itachi pressed it to his advantage, forcing her further and further toward the back of the room until finally the fight stilled. Ayame was backed into the wall, Itachi's hand pinning her neck, and the shiny point of Itachi's katana pointed between her eyes.
He leaned forward, triumphant. "You see? Power can do all sorts of things. Even steal from you… this." He leaned in, and pressed his lips against her own, making her very aware of her own helplessness. But it was over in a flash, leaving her momentarily dazed. "Do you feel it, now? That need for power?"
With a vicious pull, Ayame freed herself. Mumbling a jutsu and rapidly going through the hand seals, she set the house aflame.
"You better leave now." Ayame said. She knew there was no way for her to win. Itachi's strength at the moment, even without ninjutsu, genjutsu, or bloodlines was far superior to her own. She felt her loss acutely, but she wanted him gone. From across the wall of roaring flames, only her outline could be seen. "I never want to see you again."
Itachi opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment, a piece of blazing roof fell down not inches from where he was standing, sending sparks and fiery tendrils scorching the area. He paused, but taking one last look at Ayame, he made up his mind, and was gone.
Suddenly alone, Ayame was aware of the creaking and groaning noises of the burning foundations.
She escaped, narrowly, but as she left the collapsing house, she vowed to never take up another kunai again.
'Itachi, I'll prove that power doesn't matter. It's nothing but the bringer of violence.'
From that minute on, Ayame would disappear from the ranks of the newly appointed ANBU, swearing that she would never implicit harm upon another for as long as she lived.
-end-
Slowly coming back to reality, it only took her a moment to reach her bearings before she turned on her heel and fled.
YAY! Now, F&R! its only cause of reviews that I got this one out…