Thanks for reviewing, guys! Towards the end of the chapter, a lot will not make sense probably, due to the plot just now beginning. Bear with me, all will be explained!
II. Azurite
1. Copper mineral produced by weathering of copper ore deposits
2. Nourishes a keen interest in life, one's function in society, and discovering new commonalities and links within our world
Keywords: Energy flow
"Magnificent, Nahoko-chan! You have improved your speed tremendously! At this rate you are the blooming lotus of Konoha!"
"Again, please, Gai-kun."
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, grimacing when she grazed her split lip. Her cheeks flushed in frustration when she heard the taijutsu-fanatic's words, her deep eyes narrowing in thought.
Blooming, huh.
Straightening from her crouch, Hosokawa Nahoko pulled at the bindings on her wrists and flattened her mouth into a flat line. Blooming wasn't enough for the Hosokawa clan.
"Yes, Nahoko-chan!"
Blooming wasn't enough to reach Hatake Kakashi. She observed as Maito Gai readied his stance, noting his posture lied near perfection. His center of gravity was low, knees slightly bent- a position ready for collision, known for sturdiness and balance. Her eyes quickly cut as he pushed off the ground with senseless force-
His left foot first, his right off balance slightly, quickly he was approaching-
Thwack!
She blocked his arm with hers at a perfect angle- what should she look for, what was open-
"Oof!"
"Gah!"
Simultaneous exclamations escaped their lips as both shinobi-in-training landed in respective, unceremonious positions in the dirt. Nahoko groaned as she landed a few meters from their position, having taken a heel to the gut. She struggled to catch her breath as she lie on her back, contrived puffs escaping her lips and a grueling ache in her torso telling her to just lie still.
The chocolate-haired girl could hear her sparring partner rise with a groan of his own, "Naho-chan! That was a great defensive maneuver!"
She raised her hand in acknowledgement from the ground, breathing heavily as her expression fell flat despite her classmate's praise. She had swept her leg beneath his to interrupt his next combo, but she hadn't been quick enough- he had gotten a good hit on her before he fell flat on his back. And his recovery was swift, already standing above the smaller girl.
She put her hand in his as he pulled her up, exhaling a heavy breath as she brushed herself off from dirt and debris.
"Thanks, Gai-kun." Nine year-old Nahoko proffered a small smile before glancing to the tree-line, eyes sharp as glass.
There was someone in the trees to the North. She could not ranger a guess, but did not feel any killing intent- they were in the depths of Konoha. She doubted it was a malevolent force.
"Again."
"Saa, Nahoko-chan…"
She frowned slightly as she tossed a look over her shoulder at her classmate, raising a brow at his hesitant gaze. Nahoko had met Maito Gai sometime in the previous year during one of his and Obito's spats in class, soon learning that he was fundamentally a taijutsu user. She remembered that day very well; she befriended her first classmate with ulterior motives. It was not to say that she disliked Gai-kun, but she recognized that she could very well use him.
"What is it, Gai-kun?"
He scratched the back of his head nervously, "Graduation is soon."
"Mm."
"Saa, you look pretty…"
"Hm?"
"I… I bruised a beautiful maiden's face! Please forgive me, Nahoko-chan!"
Nahoko blinked before she brought her hand to her cheek, feeling a few scuffs as she ran her palm over her skin.
Oh.
She hadn't realized she voice this aloud, causing Gai to fall to his knees in a pleading sort of manner.
"Nahoko-chan!"
One thing she quickly learned was that although her classmate enjoyed sparring and pushing himself to the limit, he became very remorseful when a product of their long sessions appeared- most of the time, minor yet inconvenient injuries such as these. This was not the first time she attempted to appease the eccentric boy. But as she patted his back in a forgiving manner, her eyes slid to the tree line again.
Whoever it was had not left, telling her that they were probably waiting on these not-yet genin to clear the area for further use.
"Mm come on, Gai-kun. Let's get some mochi ice cream. Oka-san said I could on the way home."
"No way!"
"Aa. Let's go again tomorrow."
"Yosh!"
"You're distressed, Kakashi-kun."
She was better than that bushy-eyed loser. So why, Kakashi pondered with a furrowed brow, did she sport a speckled black-eye?
It was a Friday, one that genin Kakashi ditched his current teammates for. He hadn't any plans, though the older kids seemed to dislike him due to envy for his skill. No matter. Nahoko had found him.
"You're making things up, Hosokawa."
"Mm, no."
The corner of her eye was bruised, and Kakashi caught her scuffed knuckles before she hastily folded her hands behind her back. Normally her dark trousers and clan shirt could be caught in pristine condition, but today he noted the wear and tear. Even the burgundy Uzumaki symbol sported a hole through the center. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, watching her walk with him through the busy marketplace with her face scrunch in good humor.
The corner of her lip was split.
"There it is again."
He blinked, mouth curling downwards beneath his mask as she fixed her bespectacled gaze onto him with a look.
"What?"
"Your chakra… mm, took a spike, I guess?"
"Tch. You are making things up."
When did this runt get so observant? He watched as she shrugged halfheartedly before her eyes trailed to a stall up ahead.
Ah. The way those blue orbs lit up only meant one thing.
"Saa, steamed buns!"
"Disgusting."
"Mm, you can pay since you lied."
Honestly.
"No."
She was ten when she learned more than just the concept of chakra control.
It was that night in May, she remembered. Oka-san and Pa were fighting.
"She is a Hosokawa, Shoken!"
She had crawled out of bed for some water. She had sweat through her sheets.
"She is our daughter!"
It was hot.
Pa and Oka-san had very distinct auras, or chakra signatures as she came to learn. Oka-san reminded her of the sweet smells of the garden, airy and light and warm with the sun. She had a sort of refreshing, invigorating presence that always put Naho at ease, similar to the Bradford pears in the springtime.
Pa had a more subtle feel, as if he were the quiet rumblings of thunder during a hot summer's night. Constant, unwavering, strong. Right before the storm.
She remembered hearing Pa and Oka-san speaking in vehement not-so whispers, so she knew not to step around the corner and interrupt.
"I have done what I can, Shoken. The clan…"
She couldn't catch everything just around the corner, but Naho could gather that they were speaking of her.
"…excelling slower… they expect this of my daughter… our daughter."
"She is sharp… medic…"
Ah.
Quietly, Nahoko crept back into the halls, rubbing her eyes tiredly.
With graduation approaching, Nahoko began to understand the urgency in Pa's voice and the slight tremor in Oka-san's voice. She knew that bad things happened outside the village and more and more of her classmates were graduating early. Not all of them returned to their homes, either.
Slipping under the covers, Naho began to ponder her potential pathways as a kunoichi of Konoha.
As years began to roll by and her attention to detail gave way to clearer deductions, Naho realized that she found it quite easy to dissociate in a sense. Without emotions compromising her analytical skills, possibilities quite literally unfurled before her.
Carrying the name of the Hosokawa was a point in her favor, acutely aware of their influence and monetary worth throughout the land of fire. She could choose a diplomatic route with seemingly no need for military practice and simple knowledge, her book smarts lacking (namely through self-imposed lack of interest, not potential) though her observational and keen reasoning skills probable enough to carry her weight. Could she function as a strategist, a theorist?
Safely, yes.
Sanely? Improbable.
Abandoning that trail of thought, Nahoko metaphorically trudged forward, imagining a life of practical military expertise, a potentially B-A ranked kunoichi of Konoha, missions dominating her life scroll after scroll. That would require a steady team, something she found discomforted her greatly. She had people already, her people that she very well intended to keep a sharp eye on throughout their years as shinobi.
Not saying they quite needed her help- Kakashi-kun very well did not need her sub-par physical abilities to remain alive, though she suspected her presence in his life was one remaining constant that simply needed to be. Obito-kun and Rin-chan definitely could use her brains, though she wondered if her aid could be best employed through sheer strength and ability. Kakashi-kun certainly covered that area adequately enough and he managed to squeeze a spot on their team (though he would definitely have some words regarding her observations there).
That left a third scenario that Nahoko began to consider. To become a medic, what would that entail?
The chocolate-haired girl realized that too did not quite meet her… would she say wants? Expectations? As a ten year-old kunoichi-in-training, Nahoko was not sure if she had many expectations per se, but she knew she had to envision an acceptable future for herself sometime soon. May as well be the eve before graduating from the Academy, when she still had some semblance of control.
She thought about accompanying Oka-san to the Uchiha compound, administering basic-level first aid to the elderly who found their bones creaked a bit too much when bending over, or the children haphazardly at play in the dirt and cobble streets. She didn't particularly dislike patient interaction, in fact she found it enjoyable at times. Though she did not feel her true calling, caring for civilian level ailments-
Ah. There in lay the solution to her midnight ponderings.
Pa was sitting at the edge of the gardens today while Oka-san fluttered around the spacious greenery.
It wasn't often that he invaded her peaceful environment, sitting coolly as he observed with a calm air about him. Naho did not know what to think of it, just after the previous night's argument. It was quite startling, how the air seemed to clear just before him and all signs of a storm had seemed to pass.
He was a frequent-absence, her Pa.
An irregularity that her large, childish eyes couldn't help but inspect.
She observed him from the door. He was watching Oka-san tend to the large wisteria tree, which had begun to overshadow some hedges with lovely little flowers. He spoke to Oka-san in a neutral baritone- a crossword puzzle, he was completing a crossword puzzle with her. She watched the way the corner of his lips curled as Uzumaki Shoken quipped an obviously incorrect answer to 'strategic moves.'
"Games!"
"Ploys."
She would have thought it condescending, Pa's answer, if it weren't the way he dipped his head and let a smile bloom across his stormy face.
Ah.
"Understood by few."
"…he's awful to be around! He's so strict and serious!"
Naho clasped her hands and tapped her fingers, watching Oka-san tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before shooting him a playful glare. Her wide blue eyes betrayed nothing but affection even while narrowed. She flitted her eyes back to Pa, who had craned his neck to discover her position at the sliding door. His grey eyes did not betray his start; she had hidden herself well.
"Nahoko."
Pa remained busy, seemed abrupt and curt and maybe even a bit frustrated sometimes.
Then he would look at Oka-san.
"Arcane," Nahoko quietly proffered as she found her place beside her Pa at the edge of the garden, settling herself down and lightly swinging her legs beside his resting ones.
He gave his daughter an appraising slant before humming in assent, dipping his gaze to cleanly print her answer.
If Oka-san had a breezy, spring like-chakra and Pa had a subtly impending and summer-like-chakra, she could only describe her oba-chan's as a mixture between the two. She had a fiery personality that could match Pa's thundery sternness, but she had an innate sweetness that reminded Hosokawa Nahoko of Oka-san's airy smiles.
Her oba-chan had only a good eight years on Nahoko, being Uzumaki Shoken's cousin rather than sibling. However Nahoko found that each time she referred to Uzumaki Kushina as 'oba-chan,' her senior Uzumaki would gain a pleasant twinkle in her eye. Her lips would curl rather heartily.
Naho liked it, so she never ceased the practice.
Currently she trailed behind said burgundy-haired spitfire in the marketplace, having agreed eagerly to spend time with her while Oka-san worked in the hospital and Pa was out on a mission. Unlike her time with Kakashi, Naho found herself listening rather than speaking often. She enjoyed listening to her oba-chan reminisce of her time as a child before Konoha, when she resided in the extinct Uzushiogakure. Apparently the weather was always fair and cool, not too warm or humid, and the atmosphere was very peaceful until the warring began and fleeing became a necessity.
"Do you like pomegranates, Naho?"
Snapping out of her reverie, twelve year-old Nahoko blinked at the stall at which they had stopped, inhaling deeply as a clean and flowery aroma assaulted her olfactory system. Bright red spheres dominated the stall, and Naho noted that there had to be at least fifty pomegranates before her, neatly organized and some seeds even out for samples. She felt her mouth widen as she gratefully accepted Kushina's extended hand, grasping the sizeable fruit from the deciduous shrub.
Examining it to her liking, Nahoko vaguely attempted to trudge up the facts of said fruit, remembering it hailed from the lythraceae family- hence the floral and fresh smell.
"Mm. I like the smell."
Kushina beamed at the younger Uzumaki, understanding her well enough to know that look on her face. Naho's deep blue eyes, not dissimilar to her own, would crinkle slightly beneath her wide, horn-rimmed glasses. Her little button-nose would crinkle as well, giving off a look that some would mistake for malcontent. She knew it was simple concentration and that her younger cousin was something of a genius, in her own right.
Handing money off to the merchant, Kushina beckoned the smaller girl forward, nothing short of a grin etched onto her face as she observed her cousin.
Nahoko's birth had been somewhat cause of discontent within the Hosokawa, and Kushina wondered if the preteen was ever made aware of her relatives' thoughts of her mixed blood. She thought it nothing but a strength, however, with the Uzumaki stamina she seemed to possess and the Hosokawa name to not hinder, but open nothing but generous pathways later in life.
The girl had already come so far, requesting a position as an active iryō-nin. It had been a little surprising to hear that she alone had voiced this request to Hosokawa Sosekin, subsequently revealing her powers of observation through diagnosis of several patients' to a select few in order to determine if she even had the skills for medicine.
Her academy grades had her dragging at the bottom of her class, after all.
It seemed, ultimately, that Nahoko had never struggled with her studies. Her lack of interest and therefore lack of engagement was her struggle.
After realizing this one day, she shared her insights with Namikaze Minato while he oversaw the training of his recently-appointed team. She was not shocked- Nahoko was an Uzumaki, after all- but she certainly did not expect her younger cousin to possess such mental capabilities. She spent time with her as a child; she did not display any indication to higher-level thinking.
It seemed, however, that she was not the only one who wished to weigh in on Naho's competence.
She could have sworn she heard a distinct snort come from Hatake Kakashi's direction.
It was clear that he was not mocking Naho's intelligence, but Kushina's bewilderment with her cousin.
"Oi! It's not like you ever treated Naho like she was smart! You didn't know!" Uchiha Obito pointedly glared at the silver-haired boy, and she bore witness to a one-sided brawl between the boys- one claiming she was dumb simply because she did not try, the other attempting to defend Nahoko's honor.
"Oba-chan, can we stop here?"
"Hmm? Books?"
"Kakashi-kun is due a promotion soon, so he says."
Kushina grinned slyly at her cousin, leaning to her level. Nahoko could only describe the look she received as wicked or a bit predatory.
"'Kakashi-kun,' hm?"
She did not anticipate her face darkening a few shades, feeling warm and flustered as she ducked her head quickly and scuffled to the stall. Muttering about how she was proud of his achievements, Nahoko attempted to brush off her oba's teasing and light laughter about 'young love.'
Hatake Kakashi was a brilliant mind and of great talent.
There was no reason she should not admire him.
Her hands glowed a warm, ethereal green the morning Team Minato departed for Kusagakure.
Nahoko was not one to hover. She had wished her friends off individually the previous couple of days, frequenting the teahouse near Rin-chan's residence to spend time with her fellow iryō-nin.
She did not doubt Rin-chan's abilities concerning medicine, and voiced this opinion when her friend raised her concerns with her own skill level. Comparing their situations was a vapid endeavor; Nahoko had made sure that she could walk a more natural, freer path than her friend. She did not want ties to a three-man cell that could become important to her. She did not concentrate on honing her technical skills as a kunoichi and iryō-nin simultaneously and as rigorously as Rin-chan needed to.
Her days comprised of lots of reading and lots of chakra control exercises. She did not neglect her physical conditioning, but her priorities and plans were far different than Rin-chan's. Rin-chan did not have her goals, therefore had no need to follow Nahoko's strict regime. Reassuring her friend was an easy task.
Time with Obito-kun that week was easy. They sparred on a few separate occasions, but mostly meandered around the Uchiha district in search of food (gratitude to Nahoko's wallet) and gossip. Most of their conversations ended in Obito's guffaws of laughter and Nahoko's red-faced hilarity before fleeing an incriminating scene.
Spending time with Kakashi was different, however. Often the one to seek him out, Naho never had much trouble. All she had to do was open her ears and the bellows about 'eternal rival' would lead her right to her mark.
She was able to give the silver-haired boy the book she had dug up from the Hosokawa compound after deciding against anything at the bookstore.
It was an old tomb, really, and Pa would probably have her hide if he knew she was giving it as a gift to a fellow shinobi that was in fact not of Hosokawa lineage.
She had weighed the pros and cons of handing over such script without keeping an original copy, but with the interactions that she did have with her Hosokawa brethren, she could not help but feel she'd need a little assistance down the line. It was not a difficult decision to put the historical contents of one of the most prominent clans in history in his hands.
She had proffered a veiled smile that she knew he recognized to be exactly that, and he merely nodded his head in silent gratitude. She did not miss the flicker of surprise in his eye before his smooth composure returned.
In that, she felt victorious.
"Good luck," she had said.
"Luck," he had scoffed, "luck has nothing to do with skill."
She had only hummed in agreement, eyes crinkled in good humor. She had no idea that she'd be selected as an iryō-nin for the four-man support cell heading to Kusagakure just days later.
Her heart pounds in her ears.
There are three people before her when there should be four.
She is in standard shinobi gear with her hitai-ate wrap snuggly around her head. It does not gleam proudly as she feels the raindrops come faster now. They race down her skin as she takes hold of the folded scroll, clenching it in her sweaty palms. Is it sweat or is it rain?
"…hoko-san."
She knows it is her pulse in her ears racing and her blood pressure has risen although there are no symptoms of high blood pressure. She understands the medical context behind these reactions but she does not know how to connect the incidences. She can explain how the mechanisms work and how to treat an anxiety episode but she cannot seem to control her own physiological symptoms as she sees three familiar faces and not four.
"Nahoko-san!"
Her voice rings clear. "Yes."
She turns to her taicho in question but her voice reveals no inflection. It is flat.
"We are relieving this unit. Iwagakure forces assuredly are 10-15 kilometers east. This is a direct assault."
Translation: this will be a quick and brutal operation. There is no room for the compassion of an iryō-nin.
"Yes." She takes her clammy hands off his skin. She has done what she can in the field, not much better than Rin-chan has. Maybe she has alleviated some of his pain. She does not know. She adjusts to move away from his pale face.
Stricken.
There is a grip on her arm as she prepares to leave with this nameless four-man cell. It is strong, bone-bruising. She looks Hatake Kakashi in his uncovered eye. It is red-rimmed. Her stomach churns in confirmation.
There are three when there should be four.
She cannot hear but she sees the fabric of his mask shift. She balls her fist and reaches behind her, placing the scroll in her medic pack. She compresses her lips and wrenches his hand off with a steely grip. Can she even breathe?
She departs in a soundless gust.
"Don't try to bring him home."
There is nothing to bring home.
16 Years Later.
Incompetence.
It wasn't a word that Uchiha Itachi became too familiar with.
Inefficiency, too, did not sit with the raven-haired man. He had abandoned incompetence, deserted inefficiency and all but purged anything less than quality from his life. It took something more than the average being to become an elite Shinobi, something that most did not possess.
For that, he had become cold, brutally so and almost like a machine with how effectively he made decisions. But for whatever incredible strength and superior intellect Itachi possessed, he was human. Fiercely dedicated to Konoha, the Sharingan-wielding nin would do anything, or just short it seemed. A few things managed to, unfathomably, slip through his grasp, love for his foolish Otouto and perhaps the loyalty to his village were understandable, maybe. However, there was one thing, more so one person, that he could not, for Kami's sake, grasp.
Mask nearly slipping, Uchiha Itachi slowly, deliberately, ambled down the small village's main road, fingers lightly tipping the brim of his straw-like hat.
There was something about this Shinobi that he could not bring himself to dispose. He always came to the conclusion that it was their skill. He would not call it talent, he mused, for this particular woman had worked exceptionally hard. No, he could not simply kill her and dispose of that refined and hard-earned technique. He had first met her when he was a child, no more than five or six years old, however she had made an impression that even he could not deny.
Bringing his stride to a halt, the rogue-nin glanced at the establishment immediately before him. How she could imagine this place as sanctuary almost made the corner of his lips curve, however he refrained as he lightly strode into the dimly lit bar. It was easy to spot her amidst the sparse crowd; she had never troubled herself with anonymity.
However foolish he believed it to be, he did not bother to mention it as he settled beside her at the age-worn bar. He did not go as far as comfort, noting that she did not react to his placement.
This time the corner of his lips did quirk for a brief moment before he gently lifted his hat from his head, slowly placing it upon the flat surface. At this small gesture, the adept woman finally stirred. She had her small hands folded upon the bar, and it did not take a genius to note she was a little worse for wear.
No, this woman lacked something just as he, and that was what created their skill. It took a special kind of human being to become an elite Shinobi.
"Nahoko-san." His level greeting caused the woman to frown deeply, and he almost smiled again at the dip to her brow as she turned her dark eyes to rest unhappily on his face. She appraised him in a discontent way, her jaw shifting imperceptibly and her small nose wrinkling in a way that cut her age 10 years.
"Itachi-san." The Uchiha heir simply held her annoyed gaze, a tiny spark of amusement filling those dark eyes as he accepted her prickly greeting. Hosokawa Nahoko was an audacious woman. It never ceased to inspire a small sense of incredulity in the younger Uchiha when she would address him so. Never in his life had he had a woman react to his presence like she would.
In line with her character, the Uchiha observed as Nahoko boldly turned her attention away from him and scoffed at the dark-skinned man behind the bar, signaling that he need not linger.
Interesting.
It seemed after these years their friendship did not cease.
"Itachi-san," her dry voice continued, "I wish I could say it's a pleasure." Nahoko never did pay much heed to the fact that he was an S-ranked rogue-nin. Even in their younger days, she never treated him as the untouchable and disciplined Uchiha heir that the village chose to see.
Uzumaki Shoken, a very refined and retired combat-medic of the Second Shinobi War, oversaw many Uchiha procedures during her tenure at Konoha General. She gained what little trust the Uchiha had to offer through rushed battlefield aid and frequently made inconsequential check-ups to the Uchiha Compound. As far as he knew, her quiet mahogany-haired daughter had always accompanied her.
Uchiha Itachi could remember the weather perfectly on that day, how the humidity saturated the ambient air and the storm clouds began to roll in aggressively, screening the blaring sun with splotches of darkened grey.
Sweat dripped from his brow as he entered his residence, his heightened senses immediately tracking a disturbance in the chakra network of his home.
Uzumaki-san believed her daughter would best benefit from experience lined outside the four walls of sterilized sanctuary. It was not her there that struck Itachi, but the presence of the small, chocolate-haired girl standing beside her Oka-san, who had taken to cooing the small bundle of energy in Uchiha Mikoto's arms. The women were animated in their conversing, so much that neither noticed Hosokawa Nahoko's minute actions.
The young Uchiha heir had concealed his presence the moment he stepped in, deciding to observe this girl with her scrunched nose and hard eyes. It seemed that she did not enjoy the noises his tiny Otouto garbled, he noted with a level stare. Her hands were laced lackadaisically behind her back, however Itachi immediately realized she was not standing as innocently and patiently as she let on.
Her hands were glowing a very pale, barely visible green light, causing Itachi to narrow his black eyes dangerously.
It was here that the girl sharply turned her dark navy eyes to him, and it only took her a moment to jerk her head in a quick motion.
She was signaling him.
He had half a mind to expose the arrogant iryō-nin and her shady presence, though the curious half won him over.
She had spotted him, with his chakra all but concealed.
The logical six year-old merely listed his options and calculated his move. He watched from outside as the short girl smiled widely at the two women and could have only been giving them an excuse for her departure. Itachi noticed her smile was a little more crooked as she looked upon the child that could only be Uchiha Sasuke. He frowned.
She ducked out smoothly, and Itachi raised a brow as she ambled out of the residence too casually.
"You're the genius?"
Her voice was light, not purposefully, and he noted her smile was not forced. The girl couldn't have been more that twelve or thirteen years old he deduced as he eyed the blue Konoha hitai-ate on her arm. Her blue eyes were a dark shade but held a light friendliness that invited him to divulge more than she asked.
He wouldn't.
The Uchiha heir inclined his head minutely, face expressionless as he observed the nervous twitch of her cheek, how she blinked one too many times and how her fingers tapped together anxiously.
She was nervous. He had never met this girl before, and as he looked up at the flighty medic, he wondered vaguely if she had heard-
"Then you should really act like it, you know. Oka-san is watching."
Itachi blinked.
There was a pregnant pause, where the sky rumbled above and the atmosphere seemed to be at its saturation point. Where the next breath he inhaled seemed thicker than it should have, before his brows pulled-
Looking back on that first encounter, Itachi knew this girl was strange. She hailed from the Hosokawa, a clan shrouded by political and economic wealth. She had a disarming way about her, with an open smile and honest eyes, and she spoke earnestly.
He was not treated as the genius boy or the renowned heir to one of the most powerful clans in the Shinobi world on that sweltering July afternoon. She spoke to him in a way that seemed blatantly disrespectful. It wasn't so much the words she used, although he swore in her rant he had caught a muttered 'baka' and 'urusai,' which confounded him because he hadn't said a word in their whole interaction.
And the way she had folded her arms once the raindrops began to fall one by one, she pinned him with a look that none dared with him, not even his own Oka-san. Namely because she never had reason; he was perfect in almost every way.
Her friendly smile never wavered, and she forcibly held his gaze as she gently revealed that his tiny Otouto needed medical attention urgently. His chakra passageways were constricting quite dangerously due to any number of environmental or genetic factors, and it had gone so far as to affect the way his small breaths would leave his mouth, hence his garbled noises. Those small and seemingly adorable noises could be mistaken for normal attempts at communication, she explained, and she would have thought nothing of it if Mikoto-san hadn't mentioned the newborn's unbelievable stamina at only two weeks. Her lips were still curved as she explained that although constricted passageways ultimately end up with disability and most likely death, they can appear as a miracle in the beginning, for the chakra system was very similar to the cardiovascular system and the mechanisms of blood pressure. She stepped closer and flatly told him that compressed chakra would show signs of increased stamina due to the fact that he seems to have more at disposal, but the reality was he would likely strain his body within days and die because his chakra system was just not developed and advanced enough to adapt to such a condition.
She clasped her hands as she pleasantly reminded him that Oka-san was watching, his Oka-san who had just given birth two weeks ago and was still riddled with hormones and therefore very susceptible to panic and ill health if any distress came her way.
"Sasuke-kun, is it?"
This girl who resembled a true Uzumaki with her seemingly bad temperant, who resembled a thorough-bred Hosokawa with her sharp eyes and words, had the audacity to make the Uchiha Itachi pause.
"You are certain."
Her warm smile seemed her bleed into her eyes this time, and she even showed a bit of teeth as she openly grinned at the six year-old genius.
"Matters of health are never certain, Uchiha-san."
That line had burned the back of his eyelids even to this day.
Nahoko was not as nonchalant as she wanted to seem. Itachi's intelligent eyes noted the tension in her shoulders, and he believed the creases in her forehead and brow had painted her face long before his arrival.
For the majority, he could describe her as polite, but always with a sharp bite if necessary. It would have been amusing if he had the luxury to entertain it.
"You have much... to lose, I suppose," he murmured, though not gentle it was not a harsh statement.
She flinched.
"This is the third one of you I have encountered in the last week." Here she nodded at his cloak before rubbing her pink wrists, all movements Itachi's careful eyes observed. With an air of authority did he focus his gaze upon her face, eyes naturally bleeding red from years of habit.
"You do not seem surprised."
It was true. Although stiff, she did not seem shocked in the slightest to be speaking with him, nor did she seem to fear his intentions.
She had always been an audacious Kunoichi.
But he was not here to merely observe Hosokawa Nahoko. However much he could almost enjoy her company, he did not come for companionship.
Fingers twitching, Nahoko brought a hand to her face as she released a heavy breath. Everything was happening so fast, she could barely keep up. She didn't even know what day of the week it was. All she was certain of was the knot in her belly had never left. Especially with all these dangerous shinobi crossing her path as of late and with her impending return to the village where she had lost. it. all.
First she had to go and save him and leave her sanity in shreds. Why she had even risked her life for him in the first place was difficult to think about. Now she had to literally face him down after almost ten years of recovery?
Not to mention was her almost decade-long mission on the brink of failure.
How was it that everything had fallen apart in a matter of weeks when she had been keeping it together just fine for years?
"There's a limit to how many criminals even I can associate with in one week, my friend."
My friend.
She uttered it so casually to him, almost as if he had never murdered his entire clan in a single evening. He supposed that was why it was so easy to converse with her. If Itachi were another man, a man prone to liking people and praising companions, he could say that he genuinely found her agreeable. She was respectful yet demanded respect, polite but not cold, firm without any harshness, had a strong code of morals. Now, was her morality in line with Konoha's agenda?
That he could not say.
"That one with the orange mask…" Itachi quietly waited for the woman six years his senior to continue. She had a habit of starting sentences before she knew entirely what comprised them. He would have found it an annoyance if she had ever failed to deliver.
Over the years, she never had.
"Approaching me at the facility, as if he needed my information to find what he was looking for… he didn't. He managed to infiltrate the facility without a worry," she balled her fist in her lap, "He did not need anything from me. And the fact that his timing was so impeccable with Fujishima Daetsu's advance has my anxiety through the roof. There was correlation, but was it causation?"
She never failed to deliver.
"Tobi," there was no harm in uttering his name. Itachi knew, decidedly, that it was not the man's true identity.
She merely nodded absently, loosening her clenched hand. She had already given him what he came for- confirmation. The man in the orange mask seemed to have made friends in the staff at her current hospital, although for what reason he could not yet say.
"He intimidated me…"
She had nothing left to give him. Nahoko had served her purpose for the moment.
Silently, Itachi eyed the barkeep before rising, grabbing his straw hat and placing it back on his head. He was never one to linger. Uchiha Itachi did not have the luxury of amassing friends, only stepping stones to lead him to his desired goals.
Hosokawa Nahoko, a woman worth far more than Konohagakure no Sato realized, was not a stone overstepped.
"Itachi."
Really, the Uzumaki born medic's audacity had no end.
He inclined his head slightly, his body language suggesting that he was barely listening as he faced the exit. Naho knew, however, that when it came to Uchiha Itachi, looks were very misleading.
"The Kyuubi Jinchuriki…"
He wondered, briefly, if she knew she spoke his name or if she was too far immersed in her thoughts to understand speech. As he made to turn fully, though, he caught a small smile playing on her lips, reaching her dim blue eyes.
"He lives in Konoha, right? An Uzumaki?"
Hosokawa Nahoko was a strange woman that associated with illegal affairs, bounties, and a handful of criminals. She had a strange code of morals but was a true medic to the very core. Her frankness could be mistaken for impudence, but as a whole Itachi could very well believe that she was as clever as some said.
"I guess he's my kin, in a weird sort of clan way."
He did not miss the strain in her voice.
Here she looked on fully, and although he was not directly facing her, the Uchiha heir could feel that same level look from all those years ago center on his person.
"I'll be returning to Konoha, you know. I can't disgrace the Sandaime Hokage by botching this like my subordinates at the facility would. Even if he is dead."
"Aa."
"No hard feelings, you know, when I have to break your bones or something to keep him out of Akatsuki's hands," the emotionally distant Uchiha could feel her brazen, strained grin even as he stepped away, noting with a faint, silent smirk that she had uttered 'when' and not 'if.' And she even knew their goals.
Clever woman.
"I expect the sentiment is reciprocated."
If the Uchiha Itachi ever could feel incredulity, hesitation, or flat out second-hand embarrassment, it would be from speaking with the one they called Naho in the illicit underground.
"Nahoko, are you okay?"
She flinched slightly as Hakkar's gravelly voice drifted to her attention, pushing flyaway mahogany strands behind her ear before slamming her enlaced fist into the chakra infused sandbag along the beat of her metronome.
Thump.
"Because you know… if you aren't…"
Thump.
She hated that question. Are you okay? What kind of question was that? To what was it referring? Were people asking about physicality, wounds, abrasions, etc.? Or emotional health, her social health, her spiritual health? Was okay just an all-encompassing term for her several states of being, or just one?
Thump.
What did people want to know?
"We can talk about it."
"My wounds have healed excellently, Hakkar."
Thump.
She kept on cadence, striking the heavy bag with concentrated strength. She needed to rebuild her strength in her wrists, reconstruct the chakra passageways that she so carelessly destroyed. It was a difficult process, patching up such delicate lines that basically determined the function of her motor control.
"That's not what I mean."
Thump.
She knew that wasn't what Hakkar meant. Nahoko knew he was talking about her mind. Over the past weeks, the older man had treaded carefully around the sharp medic, careful not to mention the hospital or her shadowy cousin that had so kindly escorted her from the facility.
Sucking her teeth, Nahoko pounded the hanging bag once more before cutting her dark eyes over to the man. Juuya Hakkar stood in the grass with his arms folded, slightly tilting his head to keep his eyes on the Leaf Kunoichi. Said Leaf rolled her eyes, stepping down the wooden steps of the miniature dojo that she had resided in for weeks. She ran a bandaged hand over her sweaty brow, wiping the excess moisture on her black tank.
"I'm functioning."
Her short response caused the dark-skinned man to harden his stare. The lean woman was wearing a standard black tank and navy Shinobi stretch-pants, presumably standard Konoha issue. Her shoulder adorned a small, black tattoo that Hakkar identified as Black Operatives of some type, and her small still-pink wrist possessed some ink of its own.
Her attire revealed more to him than she ever would.
"Functioning is a mild term, child."
Her cheek twitched at the tired nickname.
Busying herself with her bindings, Nahoko pointedly turned away from the man decades her senior. Her eyes never strayed from her hands as she unwrapped them, but she seemed to have trouble swallowing as she did so. Of course she knew that she was not healthy. Nahoko's strongest asset as an iryō-nin was her ability to diagnose a patient. She was well known as a diagnostician, not a miracle worker. Yes, she was a refined medic and with practice became worthy, but she did not consider herself a genius in the world of medicine. She was not like Senju Tsunade. She did not have the raw talent to become a legend.
She, did, however possess the sharp skill of perceptibility. It was something she never remembered acquiring, but made great use of.
So as a diagnostic expert, Hosokawa Nahoko certainly knew she was not in the best condition. She was vaguely aware of her episodes, as other medics seemed to deem them. She was aware of her blackouts, as uncommon as they were, and she knew she did not view the world as most Shinobi would. As similar to PTSD as her symptoms were, there were a few discrepancies between her symptoms and the mental disorder. She did not want to lessen PTSD by misdiagnosing herself, and Nahoko believed in her diagnostic skills.
It unnerved her that she could not understand her own mind.
"Functioning is sufficient enough."
"Maybe to you Shinobi, your Hidden Villages. But normal people…"
His tone caused Nahoko to frown deeply and swallow something thick before turning slightly, squaring him with a hard look.
"It has to be enough, Hakkar."
The slight tremble in her voice severely betrayed her expression, Hakkar noted with grim, hard-line mouth. It was a small reminder that although this woman was a presumably strong Leaf, she was probably plucked as a child to become a Shinobi and learned at a very raw and impressionable age to kill. But this woman was a medic, a very talented medic to mention that saved his very own life a few years back. So not only was she trained to kill, but juxtaposed to save lives simultaneously and therefore became the woman she was today.
Saving lives, criminal or not.
This particular criminal sighed quietly, watching with a careful eye as Nahoko balled her hands a few times to test for flexibility. Really she was testing how the flow of chakra differed, determining with narrowed eyes that it would take a bit more time to completely heal her most useful extremities.
She did not have enough chakra control in her fingers to maintain her small illusion, so her mechanical phalanges shined proudly with the overcast sun. The Leaf medic paused, catching the shine casually with her eye. She had these hands because she made a choice as a girl and never once did she regret her choice. She questioned it many times, however. Like why exactly did it take so little time for her to decide that Hatake Kakashi was one hundred percent worth her sacrifice?
"Functioning or not, you associate with a dangerous crowd, Naho. That guy, for example, leaked just an ounce of killing intent and about had my closing up shop for the day."
Frowning pensively, Nahoko sat easily on the wooden stairs, crossing her bare ankles before her carelessly. It was true, she did mingle with a very shady side of the Shinobi world. However, Sandaime Hiruzen Sarutobi-sama entrusted her with such a task, and it seemed it was about time to produce her results to the one and only Slug Sannin herself, Godaime Tsunade-sama.
Great.
"Uchiha Itachi… he's a peculiar one. I doubt he'll grace you with his presence again. This establishment is a little… unsatisfactory for his tastes."
Hakkar scoffed loudly but said no more as he took a seat to lounge beside the medic. Nahoko merely sighed, on the brink of distress. There was so much to tend to and there she was, gathering her meager strength so she could attempt to put things right.
Hosokawa Vera saved her life when she was in a pinch. Her elder cousin had received her call for aid and pulled through in the nick of time. There was the matter of the masked man of the Akatsuki, a terrifying enigma that Nahoko had a feeling she would see again. There was the matter of Fujishima Daetsu's despicable nature that she had to personally deal with. Then, of all things, there was the matter of the Hosokawa's disgusting foreknowledge of Fujishima's crimes and their blatant indifference to the matter.
Really? Did the Hosokawa value Fujishima Daetsu's cardiothoracic finesse that much? They were willing to overlook his violent crimes so he could perform questionable surgeries at their facility just to bring in revenue or to promote popularity?
Nahoko hypothesized that Hokage-sama's summons could not have been a coincidence. She had to either know or suspect the cardiothoracic surgeon's involvement in the brutalities reported.
Fujishima Daetsu was somehow connected with a violent underground organization with black cloaks and red clouds.
It was time to act.
"You're gonna leave."
Nahoko knew Juuya Hakkar was not a sentimental man. However as she bobbed her head in confirmation, she felt him shift with a heavy sigh.
"Where ya gonna go?"
"I have informational scrolls that have been taken care of for a very handsome price. I need to retrieve them."
"Oh? Don't tell me it's one of those offices, Naho…"
Nahoko quirked her lips, but her smile felt elastic and strange because she was distracting herself from what she was tying to her forehead. Her hitai-ate gleamed in the later afternoon sun, and her throat felt dry as she tied the last knot on the blue fabric for adjustment. She hadn't worn it properly in years, mostly because it caused discomfort with her scrub cap, but it felt like something was shifting as she performed this small act and she felt a little bit of terror rise inside her.
She pushed it down.
"Sorry, but those bounty exchange offices are great if you've got the cash."
"I would have kept them. I bet you I would do just about anything for you."
Something in his voice caused Nahoko to soften, placing her hand on his shoulder with a small smile. She couldn't swallow the lump in her throat and her chest felt tight, and she honestly couldn't discern if it was from the sudden emotion or her complete and utter dread of the thought of stepping foot in Konoha. So she just squeezed his shoulder, managing what she could.
"I know. I know. But hey, this one was creative. Hidden behind a urinal, who would have thought, huh."
"Child, those are the dangerous ones."