A/N.: First off, a major thank-you to those who reviewed! So this was like, posted nine months after the first chapter that I actually wasn't sure if I would still post this up (as I admit I only finished this chapter now), or if I would even attempt finishing the story and just let it go supernova on me before I give this a chance to become the doubtful star that I want it to be. And now I'm not even making any sense. -_-

Anyway, it's summer here now, so I (think) have plenty of time to rearrange my thoughts and actually post more chapters for The Monsters in Your Head. This was, and still is, an attempt at a multi-chaptered story that I did promise myself I'll see through to the end, so let's see that I keep that promise. :) As I did not take a summer job, I think I'll just drive myself to death trying to achieve that goal. XD It's a precious break from Architecture and all it's minions of evil, after all..

Well, enjoy the second chapter of TMiYH, every (nonsense and poorly written) bits of it. :D

A thousand words, but none were spoken

Guess there's nothing left to say

Another dream just got broken

Guess things just turn out that way

- A Thousand Words, The Goo Goo Dolls

Chapter Two – A Thousand Words (Just Like You)

xxx

( The passing of that afternoon was very much like… Like the first time Naruto had drunk coffee, when he and the Pervy Sage took a break from his intensive training. It had been hot too – mid-afternoon, when the sun was at its highest – and in retrospect, it would have been a better candidate for a working simile compared to his initial experience with the caffeine-loaded drink, due to a very obvious factor: that they were both afternoons. Hot afternoons. Very hot, stale-air, energy-and-consciousness-draining afternoons.

Maybe it was that the inner workings of working similes were lost to Naruto if only because no amount of flowery words could mask the morbidly cruel mechanisms of a ninja battle (in this case though, upon having said that, he was clearly contradicting himself on those two points by parading such flamboyant fluency), somehow the blatancy of it all did not entirely fit with the profile of what was being tried to say.

It wasn't about how hot it was, or how similar they were, or how maybe nature wanted to play a nasty joke on them mortals by making those separate afternoons completely identical. It was not those things.

It was comparable to the coffee experience, when he felt strangely omniscient thinking he knew what it felt like to drink the tar-like liquid, and so downed everything in one go. He nearly spat the blasted thing out when sensations assaulted him all at once: scalding temperature, intense bitterness that lingered on the palate – and still would, when he ever actually thought about it.

This time, Naruto thought it was just his imagination and chose to ignore it – only to have dire consequences fire back at his folly.)

The Hokage's Office.

Though the entire village may change from time to time, or even just in the span of weeks or days – when there had been an attack, for example, no matter how minor it was – that single room remained astonishingly the same. Just as it had been when before, it remained very much the same: the desk front of the open window where piles of paperwork lay untouched and unstamped; the single swivel chair of the Hokage, which from time to time proved to be a projectile against unlucky peepers; a few tapestries that hung forlornly for years, without being replaced because of their "historical value;" various scrolls – usually containing reports about incoming and finished missions: everything, every knick knack and every clutter and every tinkers were there, just there, waiting to be used, stamped, noticed, thrown away, replaced.

Not this time though. Yes, the usual mess was there. Yes, the wane on the lower left corner of the table was still there. Yet, something had taken the place of something in the usual tableau of the office. At first glance, no one could tell. But to the trained eye, it was as if a red (as red as blood) ink had blotted the pristine white of a sheet of paper.

Something had changed. It was the single open scroll on the Hokage's desk, labelled "Top Secret," a seal of a clan in red imprinted on the paper.

As if on cue, the door opened and a single person clad in black yukata strode inside, a tray held close to her side which was anchored by the crook of her left arm and elbow, while she shut the door close with her right hand. When that was done, she held the tray with her hands now, striding closer to the older woman in her usual grey sleeveless top and green haori.

Shizune murmured "Here's your tea, Tsunade-sama," placed the cup in front of the Godaime, and hugged the tray close to her chest – a habit of hers that never faded, at four years of passing time. Tsunade glanced at her first, then at the tea, before finally heaving a sigh that seemed to Shizune had been contained for days without being released, or without bothering with the release at all. Shizune's brow knitted in worry. Of course, the Godaime wouldn't have bothered. Not with this particular case.

"Thank you, Shizune." Was all Tsunade said, in between pause of sipping her tea. The older woman took the liberty of enjoying the drink for what it was, something meant to relax, and placed it down on her desk again. Tsunade sighed once more, closed her eyes, and swivelled toward the window. The sun was rising now, steadily, amid the murk of slate and midnight blue that was the sky of dawn, its rays piercing the fading darkness, yawning wide, sending currents of particle waves flowing throughout the heavens, bathing everything in a silhouette of blinding gold. It was always something to watch, something that captivates anyone who appreciated the cycle of night and day, of life and regeneration.

But not now, not when they had something at hand that would never exhale another burst of life's breath, never see the dawn of daybreak again, never anymore experience the cycle of living and existing, and then living again for its free and total existence.

"Tsunade-sama?" 'Shizune, always careful, always dancing around with her words filled with uncertainty and worry,' Tsunade mused. Her lips lifted slightly to one side, then she pivoted back so she was once more in front of the mahogany desk.

"A-Are you… Well, that is to say, I know I don't need to ask this, but… Are you alright?" The brunette muttered, looking back and forth apprehensively between her master and the tiled floor while clutching the tray ever so tightly to her it looked about to break. The Godaime pitied that circular platter. Shizune possessed physical strength that, although could not compare to hers – or what had been once hers, the closest she could admit since that inevitable thing people call the result of aging – almost came close whenever she was agitated.

So. To save the tray, then.

"Yes, Shizune. I'm fine." Tsunade made a little show of delicately pushing the stack of papers crowding the middle of her table before speaking her next words. "The question does not need asking, yes, but not unappreciated." And that was true, because damn if she was going to make up her mind now regarding this matter without some form of reassurance from her first protégée. Or anyone at all, for that matter. Shizune seemed to relax with that. She bowed her head a little, letting a relieved sigh pass her lips, then turned to once more look at the older woman, this time with determination gathering around her eyes.

"Yes, Tsunade-sama. Now. What can I help you with?" She replied, placing the tray down, to Tsunade's relief. At least the poor thing was safe now. But as soon as those words flowed out of Shizune's lips and rewired themselves in Tsunade's mind, she frowned. Enough time had been spent on relaxing.

"You should know the answer to that question by now, Shizune. This matter is nothing compared to the others. What makes it worse is that, rather than the issue of who did it, we don't know why someone would have done it. Honestly, I can't even imagine how a person – or a group of them, most likely – could think of such a thing as going against him and actually succeed.

"This is no simple matter. Reasons, methods and perpetrator aside, what has really complicated it is the legacy of the name, that bothersome thing." The Godaime finished, biting her lower lip, but not enough to bleed, though it appeared as if that was what she would have wanted. Shizune understood, because that was exactly what she would have wanted, too.

They would tread be treading dangerous waters, courting danger at best.

Shizune turned to look at the view of Konoha the wide window offered. The buildings were no longer merely outlined by the bright light, but shadowed on places not directly facing the sun. Thy sky, too, had changed: the change not in colour, though it mostly was, but in what it was in essence.

It was change: projected to the horizon; change projected to the azure veil above them.

It was that time that Shizune grasped the comprehension of things needed to be done, and her countenance gradually became grave and sombre.

"Tsunade-sama." The older woman recognized the brunette's tone of voice, slightly nodding to show her appreciation of the quick realization.

"Yeah. Exactly."

"He must not know."

Tsunade gazed at the scroll and the seal it bore, silently pronouncing what should take first priority even without half the garbage written there. She mentally checked the amount of other paperwork which contained various missions that would occupy someone for quite some time. It was useless, but right now, it would have to do. She just wished it didn't make her feel this guilty.

"Tell every one of them I don't care whatever it is they are doing right now, they should get their asses here immediately; and if they are out helping someone somewhere, no one better die when they do come."

"Yes, ma'am!" Shizune bowed, then turned and ran the length of the corridor outside the room.

It had only been two days.

It had only been two days after the foiled attack on Konoha via the Third Chuunin Exam, courtesy of Orochimaru, but already he found himself…restless. As if they were still in battle, as if the next opponent would suddenly come out of one of the streets' dark alleys and try to land him a blow. He snorted. Yes, try is the keyword here because, while he did have to admit his defeat at the said event, he still put up a damn good fight throughout that contest, up until the end where he got his ass beat bad by a – again, he had to admit through gritted teeth – misconception of results cleverly constructed by that orange one.

This reminded him of why he was walking toward the hospital to begin with. Though he wasn't really sure if the orange was there – he only overheard two chuunins talking about it, so it could only be a rumour, and besides, he didn't look twice their way to check if they were trustworthy of such information (he didn't even look at them once) – but surely, someone collecting so much damage would only end up at the infirmary?

Upon reflecting the flow of his thoughts, he growled. He would not get anywhere if he continued thinking along those lines. It was time to go with it or don't go at all (though it did not trip naturally off his tongue, he still went with that speech; a conclusion to one's monologue is very important).

So he closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, released it, and set forth like the picture of aristocracy and dignity that he was.

Was, because the moment the sole of his right foot was about to land on that solid, solid ground, his bottom beat his foot to it.

His first reaction was what others in his place would have done: curse, swear, and curse. Never mind that the fall made him look unbecoming of his clan's image. Never mind that it hurt because it was a solid ground. Never mind that he had not still thought of getting up anytime soon. Never mind that he was a shinobi, for goodness' sake, who knew at three that you should never let your guard down, but he still did anyway. What he did mind though, was the imbecile who must be legally blind as to not see someone like him, so unmistakable and noticeable and commanding and, and… And tall for someone his age, for Hokage's sake!

The last statement broke his little fit (since when did he start thinking along those kind of lines, he wonders). He was losing composure, unfit of someone of his stature. He stood up in one fluid motion, then summoned all the glares in the world and froze them to a saturation of hell in glacial times.

The glare melted when he saw him, though.

He was prepared to see him again. He truly was. Yet now, now that the orange one was here, still crouched on the ground, rubbing the back of his head…

It was so different. So much different…

He could only clear his throat, extend his hand, and listen to the hammering of his heart against his chest. "Hey."

(That had been their first true meeting. And yet, he could not remember it being that way. He simply couldn't.)

"B-But Sakura! Doing such a thing… And to him, of all people? It isn't possible. It can't be right. It just – it just can't."

Sakura sighed. What Ino said was right, on most parts. Even she had to admit that what happened was rather puzzling, and yet here they were, both of them for all the world looking harassed and downright weary. Still, the evidence must be solid enough for this kind of wake-up call. No one would bother asking the assistance of two medical ninjas who studied under the Godaime if the person was not dead.

Thinking that, Sakura bit her lower lip hard. She should not think – it was crude of her to entertain such thoughts. "Yes, I know what you mean, but if they called us out here, then…

"It only means one thing. The inevitable happened." Ino shook her head, her fists shaking in undisguised anger and confusion and so many emotions wrapped up in those balled hands of her.

"I knew that! We all knew that! And yet we didn't ever count on it happening, because this is him we're talking about; that stuck-up, arrogant little bastard who just became…! Became…!" By that point, Ino was shaking for a different reason. Sakura thought she saw something glisten when Ino jerked slightly, and her face became illuminated by the moon…

…Sakura realized Ino was crying, and she immediately felt sorry for her friend. 'Ino is probably reminded of that time, when she was giving first aid to that chuunin…' The pink-haired mednin frowned. No, this was not the time for this. This was no time to give in to sentiments.

They were shinobis; bound to protect the foundations of the principles of the system they were taught to believe in.

"Ino. We don't have time for these kinds of sentiment. Right now, he needs our help. We swore to, remember?"

"Sakura's right, Ino."

The voice made the two jump, and though the act made them lose guard for a split second, the two somehow ended up taking their battle stance, muscles tenser than ever before, one hand clutching a kunai.

'Like how he must have been before it happened,' Sakura thought distantly.

The figure stopped for a moment, his silhouette showing he had frozen in place. But then he resumed walking, and his steps were accompanied with chuckles that were wry and amused both.

Nara Shikamaru came into view, decked in his Jounin uniform. Though his promotion happened quite a time back, he still pulled at his vest every now and then, as if he would rather wear his Chuunin one because he found the change very troublesome. From his weary sigh a moment later, the idea might not be far from truth.

The two females relaxed and placed their kunais back in their holsters. Sakura gave a nod to Shikamaru, which he returned, if not looking graver. He then turned to Ino, but the bleach-blonde female looked away, frowning and biting her lower lip.

"I know, Shikamaru. I know. It's just," she made a helpless gesture with her hands, but dropped them quickly when she realized the two did not realize what the motion meant, "I can't help it." Ino slanted a piercing glare at Sakura and Shikamaru when the two exchanged knowing looks. "Yeah; no, don't say anything. I know, okay?"

"Look, Ino, it's only because when it comes to things about him, you're just so…touchy. It's troublesome when it doesn't come across weird or downright scary." Shikamaru muttered. Ino just shot him a glare, but she seemed to graciously ignore this comment and retuned more or less to her usual self. Sakura smiled. Shikamaru hid a sigh of relief.

"Well, let's save our speculations for later. We have a mission to do. Ino, if you will join me?" The pink-haired med-nin turned to Shikamaru. "Let's go."

The brunette heaved another weary sigh then grimaced. The air once again turned charged and tense around them. "Yeah, let's."

No one was moving. Everyone was just standing there, forming a half-circle around the person lying on the ground, staring.

It might not have been the best thought to entertain, since the person on the ground obviously needed help, but for some reason, it took capital priority in her mind: that odd, odd irony of a picture – a collective group divided into two sets, standing so close with each other, fidgeting in their feet, as if wanting to leave but could not. Everyone was doing the same thing: staying still, discreetly squirming in place, avoiding each other's eyes (identical eyes, everyone says, and yet so different when you know where and how to look), breathing the same stale air, drinking in the same sight of that pale, lithe, flaccid body… Everyone, standing still.

Everyone was there, two halves of one clan, together.

'Just like last time, when…'

A pat on the back disrupted her train of thoughts. Hinata froze for a moment before reminding herself of the companion behind her. The tension she was not aware she carried eased a little, until she looked again at that sight, but it became more bearable by the minute, with Kiba lending his silent support. She closed her eyes and sighed, and leaned slightly on her former team mate. Kiba shifted a little closer, making the Hyuuga heiress more comfortable. Hinata looked up at him and gave him a slight smile followed by a squeeze of her hand.

"Hinata," Kiba began, "Sakura and Ino are on their way. I'll meet them on the front door now. Meanwhile – " He shifted once more, placing both hands on Hinata's shoulders and turning her towards him.

"Stay here. Well…" Kiba's eyes flashed with a mixture of dread, worry, and uncertainty. "…You really would have to, in any case." Hinata gave him a sad little smile, and nodded.

"Yes, I know. I'll take care of things here. I leave Sakura-san and the others to you, Kiba-kun." The Hyuuga said, putting a hand on Kiba's left arm. Kiba started a little, but gave a nod nonetheless. He took a step back, turned around, and headed to the main door of the compound. Meanwhile, Hinata returned to the circle, her expression growing sombre with every step she took.

'So it begins now, Neji-nii-san.'

xxx

Hmm, I noticed I did not follow the formatting I set at Chapter One here.. Well, it hurts my eyes looking at it. -_- Maybe I should edit it later..

Soooo, end of Chapter Tsuuuu! Reviews, anyone interested?