Author's Notes: I, as the automobile air-freshener claimed, am a "Bee-otch" (cheers to those of you who know where that's from). So, two long months later, here is chapter three (I swear, all I could think about was this thing). The Cliff's notes version is that the entire first page and a half of this chapter was what caused that frelling (bigger cheers to those of you who know where that's from) delay; it took forever to figure out how to tie it in with the rest of the fic. But I have, finally, and it's only the last seventy percent of the chapter that allowed me to get it posted so suddenly, as it's simply a big chunk of the original chapter two from DNT with a little tweaking. Sorry it took until your grandkids were born to get it here.
Word Count: 6116 (Total: 15468)
Date Submitted: 10/14/08
Chapter 3 – Pearl Diving
With one hand centered pointlessly on his heaving chest, his body locked and face shining with a sheen of sweat as he gasped haltingly, Namikaze Arashi was the quintessential example of a heart attack victim.
Except that he knew he was not having a heart attack. Heart attacks hurt after a while.
Ever since he could remember, Arashi had occasionally suffered a strange, painless tightening of his chest. It occurred almost exclusively during the instances in which he was frightened and seemed to intensify into an all-encompassing terror when someone he cared about was in some kind of trouble. It had happened frequently enough during his childhood that he had learned to divert the worst of the sensation while he was out on an assignment as a genin, and then later as a jounin instructor. He had gone to multiple doctors in years past to find an answer, but none of them had been able to find anything wrong with him; he had even suggested that it might be a heart attack, but all of them had assured him that his heart and arteries were in fine condition and he had nothing to worry about as long as he kept doing what he was doing.
Yet it was getting worse, whatever it was.
". . . Arashi?"
He had dealt with it sporadically throughout his life. Perhaps it was something congenital and one morning he would just wake up and immediately die, the way the elderly sometimes did. He could imagine that Hotaru would love discovering that in bed with her.
"Arashi?"
He blinked and looked over. Hotaru stood to his right, one hand on his shoulder – however he had managed to not notice her – and the other on his arm. Her golden-brown eyes were filled with concern and her face, if it was possible, was even paler than usual.
Busted, Anxiety – that part of him that made no effort to help reassure him when he was doing something right but freely ramped his blood pressure up during a crisis – whimpered weakly.
I'm a big boy and I don't have to tell her one damn thing, Arashi snapped. It hasn't killed me yet anyway. Besides, why should I bother to worry her with thinking that I might die of something other than an assassination? That's more than enough for her, and measures are in place no matter what manages to kill me. She doesn't need to know about it; nobody does.
Aloud, he asked, "Are you all right? You're kinda . . . white."
She fished a handkerchief from somewhere in her sapphire-blue, wisteria-print kimono and gently wiped the sweat from his face. "Are you all right? You look like you're going through withdrawal."
"I'm fine," he assured her. "Naruto just gave me a little scare. He's fine too, though."
It's not a lie, he quickly reminded Anxiety, which calmed down considerably at that truth. I am fine now – I just wasn't a minute and a half ago.
"Good," Hotaru said with a nod. "You know, I never thought I'd say this because I actually like this trait in men, who don't seem to have it as active in them as women, but maybe you need to be a bit less empathetic. You're going to give yourself a heart attack."
She turned away briefly then, so she missed his grimace of agreement.
"You're sure Naruto's fine?"
"Yes," he promised. "He was a little weak, but he spoke to me coherently and clearly. Akiko wanted to stay with him, so Hitomi's watching over both of them right now. And speaking of that, I've asked Hitomi to keep an eye on him for us since she has some medical knowledge, so she might ask you if he did anything strange."
Hotaru nodded.
"He could be a spy, Arashi."
Arashi and Hotaru, who jumped and let out a startled gasp at being caught unawares, turned to the newest arrival. Hotaru frowned slightly and asked incredulously, "Naruto, Sandaime-sama?"
The old man dipped his head at her in greeting – "Hotaru-san." – but did not answer. He returned his gaze to his successor. "Arashi."
Hotaru looked around at the blond, but his gaze had fallen to the floor and he was most definitely trying to avoid hers. Her mouth opened a bit in shock. ". . . You must be joking. Arashi, he's only twelve years old!"
Arashi turned his head away to escape the questioning eyes of his companions. He knew that. He did. And it was suspicious, but he did not know if it was suspicious enough. Naruto seemed to be perfectly normal, other than his memory, and the condition he was in when he was found was not exactly conducive to accusing him of any kind of espionage. Arashi simply wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.
"Arashi," Hotaru went on desperately, taking his silence to be agreement with his predecessor's statement. "Arashi, think about this, please. Naruto isn't like Akiko – he's the last of an otherwise dead family line! You can't actually be considering . . . doing something to him!"
He smiled faintly at her. She was so peaceful a person it was hard for her to even say 'kill'. "I love you," he said spontaneously, and she blinked at the incongruity of the statement. After a brief moment, he explained quietly, "Hotaru, please try to understand . . . Naruto may already be dead."
Hotaru's brows drew together. "What do you mean?"
He sighed softly and closed his eyes. That was the one thing he regretted about her not being a kunoichi – rather than having the blessing of speaking in nuance and euphemism and knowing she would be able to understand, he had to lay out on the table all of the painful realities of being a shinobi so that she could see them and hate them. "If someone wanted to take Naruto as a hostage," he clarified, "that person wouldn't have left a copy in his place. It would be better for us to notice his absence right away so that demands could be made. But if someone was trying to spy on us, a copy would be very useful. However, there wouldn't be any interest in Naruto himself and it would be inconvenient if he reappeared while the copy was already here." He looked at her again, and Hotaru's eyes widened in understanding, but he went on to be sure that she absolutely did understand. "To protect the copy for as long as possible, it would be less trouble to kill him right away."
"But you don't know that!" she protested. "You can't just kill a child without evidence!"
Arashi frowned at her and said more sharply than he had intended, "I can do anything I have to for the sake of the village."
That could be one of the biggest lies I've ever told, Anxiety pointed out. She'll catch on!
"You could not!" Hotaru snapped. "He's your own son!"
"I didn't say that I'd do it myself, now did I?" he snarled back. "All I have to do is give the order and any shinobi in the village would do it instead."
Hotaru stared at him, mouth open in shock, but then her face twisted and she brought her right hand up in an unusually strong slap. "Just because he looks so much like you," she shouted, full-volume, as he rubbed gingerly at the vivid red handprint on his left cheek, "doesn't mean he can't be my child, too!"
Arashi watched her storm off. Why do I always pick the bitchy ones?
I'm either a masochist at heart, Anxiety mused, or trying to justify a dormant misogynistic tendency.
"Be careful," Sandaime cautioned, and Arashi was thankful that he was not outright suggesting immediate action. "Do not allow your judgement to be clouded by personal feelings, in the event of either conclusion."
He left as well then, and Arashi watched him go before resting his back against the paneled wall and sliding to the floor. He tilted his head back and stared blankly at the spackled ceiling as the inexplicable chest pain renewed itself, but did not have the energy to even attempt to massage it away.
. . . What am I going to do? Help me, Red . . .
Naruto awakened slowly, groggy and confused, and panicked momentarily when he found his surroundings utterly alien. He was in a generous room with an equally generous bed, a chest of drawers, a small vanity – whatever that was for – a closet, a few simple shelves and baskets containing books and various examples of the seemingly insignificant paraphernalia typically wielded by ninja, and a big window that showed only the empty and wide-open space between the house and the trees that made it harder for invading shinobi to hide during an advance. Nothing was familiar and he was alone.
A harsh mental slap shook him from a creeping panic. You humans are frightened so easily . . . Smell, brat! Don't waste my senses!
Obediently, Naruto lifted his head and took a few tentative sniffs of the air. ". . . Food!"
Fetch, boy!
"You think you're such hot shit, don't you?"
'Cogito ergo sum.'
Despite the strange language, Naruto rolled his eyes. Kyuubi was a dickhead of supreme proportions, but he had been around long enough to be considered formally educated. Naruto had learned most of the dead languages the fox knew – and was familiar with bits and pieces of the rest – mainly to protect himself, since the kitsune tended to mutter his intentions in one of the tongues before actually carrying them out.
Sometimes – just sometimes – Naruto wondered if Kyuubi was subtly attempting to look after him.
Not that asking would get him anywhere. "Like I didn't see that one coming . . ."
Coming? came the amused question. Why yes, I'd lo—
Naruto grimaced. What a completely expected response. Kyuubi was not really an incorrigible pervert, but as a non-human he was not exactly concerned with the social niceties of humanity either, so he often answered with the first thing that reached his mind when it was unintentionally prompted. And seeing as he was a powerful, uncut male kitsune, sex was generally not far from his thoughts. "Shut up."
The fox's consciousness receded with a snicker.
With his morning argument out of the way, Naruto stretched a bit and poked around. Several articles lying about bore his name, so he assumed he was in his own room and meandered out the door, mentally mapping the hall outside so he could find it again. Since he had a choice, he started off to the right. After a few minutes of navigation, he discovered that he was right back where he had started. He tried again and experimented with a few previously passed-over halls, and found himself at the door of the kitchen.
He had to admit, privately, that Kyuubi was correct – the nose would know.
"Oh, Naruto-sama! I'm glad you're well!" the portly woman working inside the sweltering room called to him cheerfully. "The Hokage was quite worried about you – wouldn't eat a bite for three days. It might have been longer if the doctors hadn't threatened to feed him intravenously."
Naruto-sama, she had said. That was a designation he had not expected to hear by that point in his life. "He wouldn't eat?"
She clucked like a mother hen as she stirred something bubbling quietly on the range. "No. Don't tell him I told you, but he always stops eating whenever you or Akiko-chan are seriously hurt. Poor man has a tender stomach from all the fretting he does."
Naruto was surprised to hear that it was possible for a Hokage to have a sensitive stomach, although they were certainly no less human than anyone else. ". . . I had no idea . . ."
"Of course you didn't, dear," she confirmed. "He doesn't like it when people worry about him. Now go on to the lounge – I'll be done in a few minutes."
". . . Okay."
Except that he had no idea where that was. Fortunately, both the lounge and dining room were just a short distance up the hall. He stepped into the lounge before he realized that someone he did not know was already there; his senses were far too dull. He needed to train as soon as he could possibly manage.
The man was somewhat familiar, but not enough to ease his suspicions. "Heya, kiddo. Nice to see you're okay. Place wasn't the same without you."
He stared. "Wh-What are you doing to Akiko-chan?!"
The man looked at his lap, where Akiko was lying on her back and giggling whenever he lifted her by the ankles. "Playing."
"You're hurting her!"
The not-stranger looked again at the girl, who had switched to actively chewing on the tender underside of his wrist and hissing like a beast. Blandly, he replied, "I doubt it."
Naruto growled and reached down for his shuriken holster, only to remember belatedly that there was not one there. Everything was still in the room he had awakened in.
The man noticed. "You know you aren't supposed to throw weapons in the house."
Naruto snarled softly. He did not want to leave Akiko alone, but with such low chakra he needed a weapon and there were none in the room. There had been a pike mounted on the wall a few rooms down, though that was assuming he was even in the right area. He took a step back and jumped when he felt himself collide with someone behind him. He whirled, startled that he had not heard the person approach, but was quickly overcome with relief. Back-up had arrived. "Dad! Dad, this guy . . ."
The Fourth sighed and put an arm around Naruto's shoulders. "It's all right, Naruto. He's a friend."
"He is?"
"What's wrong?" the visitor asked, turning Akiko on her head so that she laughed again.
"If you make my daughter sick," the Fourth said mildly, "you get to clean it up."
"Oh, but she likes it," the not-stranger crooned. "Don't you, gorgeous?"
Akiko laughed raucously.
Naruto reached out and carefully snatched her away, then stepped slightly behind his father to protect her, making no effort to hide his distrust.
The Fourth sighed once more. "Naruto, really. It's okay. Please trust me."
The visitor frowned. "What's wrong, again?"
"Naruto's been having some memory problems since his accident. Everything's strange and new to him, so please be patient."
Naruto growled again. If he had not thought it would give him away, he would have told them why he was acting the way he was. Mistrust, after all, was learned rather than inherent. Any stranger poking around in his home or the homes of those he cared about were considered potential threats – guilty until proven innocent with not even fake apologies to any offended parties. He would never apologize for caring.
"In that case, I'll reintroduce myself." The man pulled off his headband, which had been in a sort of over-the-head bandanna style. Naruto understood the reason why – to hide in the darkness more easily – when he saw the man's platinum hair. "I'm—"
He gawked. "Kakashi-sensei?!"
"'Sensei'?" the Fourth echoed, surprised.
Kakashi rubbed the back of his head. "Does this mean I get a raise?"
"'Sensei'?" the blond insisted loudly.
"I have taught him a few things, but I never told him to . . ." Kakashi paused then and asked a very relevant question. "Am I going to get in trouble for any of this?"
"Exactly what did you teach him, Kakashi-sensei?"
Kakashi grimaced and desperately sought an escape. ". . . I have to pee."
"Kakashi."
As entertaining as it was to see his teacher squirm so, Naruto felt responsible for bringing it up, accident or not. "Does it matter? I don't remember any of it."
The Fourth looked at him sharply. "Don't try to—"
"Hokage-sama!"
His father's frown deepened and he collected Akiko. Giving them a venomous warning glare, which was shockingly intimidating despite the thumb-sucking toddler he was holding, he said, "You both better hope it wasn't anything dangerous or it will become extremely hazardous to your health."
Kakashi let out a tiny, nearly inaudible sigh as the Fourth moved up along the hall to find the one who had called him. "Thanks, kiddo."
"Is he always like that?" Kakashi blinked questioningly, so Naruto clarified with, "Suffering mood swings. Is this something I need to watch out for?"
The jounin shrugged. "No. Your dad's usually a super-nice guy. It's just that when he gets stressed he turns into a crabcake."
"What's to be stressed about?" Naruto wondered. "I know running the village is hard, but it—" Interrupted by his not-teacher's sudden prodding of his stomach, he glared and snapped, "Stop poking me!"
"You are what has him stressed. He's always been strongly attached to you and your sister, no doubt more than a good shinobi should. Your joys are his joys, your sorrows his sorrows, your pain his pain." Kakashi shrugged again. "It's one of those father-type things, I suppose. He's been worried about you since your accident and seems to be taking it out on everyone but you and Akiko."
"What did happen to me?"
A third shrug. "You're the only one who knows. That day you went off to train. When you didn't show for supper your dad went looking for you. When he returned with you, you were covered in blood and bruises and had torn clothes. It all looked self-inflicted, but a couple of the bruises were in hard-to-reach places and too dark for that to be plausible. We know that you were attacked, but not by who or what. Considering the lack of evidence, a ninja seems the only logical answer in this case."
Naruto let out a long breath and scratched his head. It seemed like it was time to investigate; perhaps his fresh eyes would find something everyone else had missed. "I guess I'll—"
"Are you two going to stand there all night and chat?" Hotaru called from the dining room. "Your supper's getting cold!"
Naruto spent the entirety of the meal gaping discreetly at Kakashi, since in his concern for his sister he had not done so earlier. His teacher not only did not wear a mask, but was smiling and laughing like a normal person. The man teased and cooed at Akiko, who was positively delighted with the attention. That was not what had thrown Naruto off the most, though; what had done that had been his teacher's eyes. The Kakashi before him still possessed both blue-grey eyes and did not bear a scar over the left. It might have been the indication of an enemy jutsu that he was looking for, but Naruto was not sure. He had never met a ninja who had not at least heard of Sharingan Kakashi and seriously doubted that such a ninja actually existed.
Still, it left him at less than nothing on the official Knowing What the Hell Is Going On-o-meter.
Kyuubi?
Shut up, was the fox's immediate, distracted response. I'm thinking.
He excused himself immediately after he finished eating – he even managed to remember to ask permission to leave the table – and was not entirely lying when he claimed that he was fatigued. He wandered into his bedroom after getting lost twice and collapsed face-down on his bed with an exhausted groan. He lay that way for hours, just achy enough to be unable to sleep but much too tired to grab for a painkiller, assuming that he could stumble across a bottle somewhere. He figured that if he lay still long enough the pain would dull sufficiently so that he could sleep, and the idea satisfied him. If he had supposedly followed a more regular schedule it would no doubt be put off for at least a few days. He could bear to miss a few hours of sleep for the time being.
The door to his room opened after a time, but he did not bother to move at first. Someone sat on his bed and ran a hand soothingly down his back, which somehow caused him to let out a massive, reflexive sigh. He realized he was going to have a hard time when he got home; he was getting too used to being treated so kindly and warmly. He lifted his head sleepily and though he could not turn enough to identify his visitor, he registered that the hand on his back was far too broad to be his mother's and had calluses in all the right places for someone who used shuriken and kunai on a regular basis.
It was not the slightest bit unusual for any shinobi to be up and lurking, no matter the hour, but he could not help wondering. "Dad . . .? Why are you still up?"
"I'm sorry," the Fourth said softly. "Did I wake you?"
"No, but I was on my way out. Isn't it late?"
"I was having a little trouble getting to sleep," was the unashamed revelation, "so I took a walk around the house. I thought I'd make sure you were sleeping all right your first night back. Everything okay?"
Naruto nodded sleepily. "Just in a little pain. Probably from running around so much after being still for so long and then picking up Akiko. Do we have any painkillers?"
His father chuckled. "That's like asking if we wear clothes. Want me to get you something?"
"Actually, could you show me?" Naruto inquired in answer. "I need to learn my way around in case things take a while to come back to me." Or, in his case, never come back at all.
Naruto did not miss the hesitant silence that initially answered. But a moment later the Fourth helped him out of bed and led him through the darkened house to a walk-in pantry directly adjacent to the kitchen. He retrieved the medicine from a locked cabinet that had been positioned a bit high on the wall, and when he placed the key atop it Naruto commented with drowsy petulance, "That's not fair."
"It's to discourage Akiko," was the explanation as they left the pantry to get some water. "Several children in the village who were her age died after overdosing on different substances. It was a coincidence that they were so similar and so close together – they were looked into just in case – but your mother got scared. I tried to tell her that careful monitoring and discipline would keep Akiko safe in the same way you were, but she was adamant. So if you need anything from the cabinet you'll have to use the stool behind the flour. But don't let your sister see you doing it because she's an extremely quick study and she'd figure out how to make the stool taller, which could end up worse than if she poisons herself. And speaking of poisons, be careful what you grab in there because I keep my poisons there as well, on the highest two shelves. If you knock something down and it spills, don't mess with it. Just lock the cabinet, tell Aya so she doesn't get a nasty surprise, and come find me. I'll take care of it, all right?"
He shrugged and accepted the glass of water. "Okay, but I could probably clean it up by myself and save you the hassle."
"I'm sure you could, but I'd much rather you not. I promise I won't get angry – in fact, I'd be delighted – if you reported it to me. If you gave me details I could decide whether or not to let you clean it. Poisons are very easy for ninja to get a hold of, especially considering who I am. They aren't impossible to replace, unlike . . . Well, it's absurdly simple to replace a poison here, like I said, so don't think that you'll have to placate me to avoid a lecture or something. I know accidents happen and it's not a big deal."
"If you say so."
He finished the water off and went to his bedroom with an escort, which was good because he nearly took a wrong turn and got himself lost for the fourth time that day. He climbed into bed and was tucked in, a relatively new experience performed occasionally by Iruka but that could still be counted on one hand.
"Feeling any better?" his father inquired.
"A little," Naruto answered. "The medicine hasn't kicked in yet."
"Don't worry about knowing – it knocks you right out."
"Ooh, that sounds nice."
The Fourth chuckled. "Sounds like you're losing the battle already."
"Nuh-uh," Naruto argued, hard-wired to protest any statement that might hint at him losing anything.
His father snorted softly and ordered gently, "Close your eyes."
He complied and the next thing he knew, slightly familiar voices were speaking rather quietly around him, presumably to not wake him. He shifted a little and realized that he was lying on something firm yet soft that rose and fell and hissed hollowly in a slightly out-of-step cadence with a lightly rhythmic, dully-echoing thump. It took his half-asleep mind a moment to figure out he was hearing the heartbeat and respiration of someone very close to him – right beneath his ear, in fact.
"Have you been here all night?" his mother demanded in a whisper.
"I wanted to make sure he was comfortable," his father said with equal care.
"Arashi, you could have had one of the girls do it. You need to sleep."
"I did and I'm fine. I just wanted to be sure he slept all right. I won't do it again."
Naruto knew a guilt trip when he heard one; Iruka was both a travel agent and a frequent-flier when it came to the things. He also knew the reason for it – Kakashi had implied it the evening before. He yawned and shifted again into a bit more of a comfortable position, sure that the blunted thing poking up beneath his ribs had been the rounded loop of a kunai.
". . . A little restless, isn't he?"
"He's been like that since he fell asleep."
"That's because he's too big to sleep that way."
An arm went around his lower back and a hand stroked his hair absently. "He's still smaller than me. And besides, he was more restless when he was on the mattress. I don't have any idea what he was dreaming about, but he was quite upset about it until I moved him."
His mother snorted delicately. "I don't know how you could have slept like that."
"Very easily, love."
". . . Well, next time tell me when you decide that you're going to spend the night in one of your children's rooms. I woke up and thought something had happened to you."
"Like what?" the Fourth questioned, genuinely curious. "There weren't any signs of a struggle."
"Arashi, that's not the point. You know I'm a creature of habit; I don't like my routines disturbed."
"Yes, yes, all right. I'm sorry. I'll leave you a note if it happens again." The arm around his back tightened and the one that had been petting him moved to support his head. His bed sat up and let out a small grunt. "Ugh, he is big. I remember when just two hands were more than enough. Now I think I need four." He was rolled onto his back and placed very carefully in his non-living bed. Almost mournfully, the Fourth mused, ". . . Sometimes I wish they'd be babies forever."
"Oh please no," his mother groaned, and his father laughed warmly. "I happen to like them possessing that little trait of eventually growing up. If your wish ever comes true, then you will always be the one on diaper and laundry duty because I will not do it again. I've already done it for you before and while I love you and them dearly, that isolated time was more than enough."
He felt the covers settle beneath his chin and felt lips press a soft, tender kiss to his forehead. He sighed and drifted slowly back to sleep, and the next time he awakened it was because one of the many housekeepers had given him a quick shake. It was not a good way to wake a shinobi, but he was a notoriously heavy sleeper and not the most articulate when newly awakened, so there was little danger as far as he was concerned.
"I'm terribly sorry to wake you, Naruto-sama," was the cautious greeting, "but you have a visitor waiting in the lounge. One Miss Hyuuga, I believe."
"Hinata-chan?" he murmured sleepily, before fully considering how that would sound to everyone else.
Sure enough, the wide-eyed housekeeper squeaked, "Sir?"
"Never mind," he mumbled. He rolled out of bed and might have simply gone to see Hinata in his pajamas – which he likely would have done if he had been in his apartment – but he was apparently thinking clearly enough to decide that with circumstances being what they were, he was no longer only representing himself. In the future he would definitely have to take care to think more stringently so as to not embarrass his family.
Stringency . . . his mind echoed thoughtfully, as though tasting the unfamiliar word.
Whoa, Sarcasm inserted derisively. New thought there, eh, Mister Perfect?
Naruto snorted. That would be Sasuke's designation, thanks. He looked at the housekeeper uncertainly, not the least bit comfortable being faced with the reality of someone actually serving him, and asked, "Is it okay if I ask you to get me something to wear while I take a really quick shower?"
"Certainly, Naruto-sama!" the girl confirmed quickly, as though horrified that he might not have asked her if he felt her unworthy of the duty. "Did you have something in mind?"
"No, not par—" He paused as he considered the immediate future. "Well, now that I think about it, can you make it something that I can train in later?"
"Yes sir!" she vowed fervently.
"Thanks." He moved to leave the room, but had to stop before he even reached the door. "Er . . . Where's the bathroom?"
Blushing brightly, the girl got into a drawer and handed him a pair of boxers. Which, he imagined, would probably be far more appropriate than wandering around in a house full of women clad in nothing but a towel like he had originally planned. It was a good thing he had people double-checking his behavior. "Go to the right, then take another, and it'll be the second door on your left, Naruto-sama."
"Thanks," he repeated as he strode from his room and took a right turn.
It was definitely rude to make Hinata wait, but he had been told that the last bath that he had gotten was the day before he woke in the hospital. His body was still pretty clean, since it was hardly as though he had gone out and done actual work, but the waterless shampoo should have been sent back to the drawing board. Beyond that, it was hard to say how she would behave without asking someone. Taking Kakashi-sensei into account, Hinata could very easily turn out to be a clingy chatterbox, in which case it would probably not be smart to repel her. Her father might find out and get offended.
The shower was brief and, as promised, clothes had been laid out on his bed for him by the time he returned to his room. He was mildly relieved to see his usual disturbingly orange jumpsuit – not everything had changed. Even so, he frowned at it, because it was his old one. The one he had worn until he was fourteen and a half and only changed out of because it had become a ragged mess. Careful to avoid thinking about what he had been doing and who he had been with at that time, he crept over to where the vanity sat near the window and peeked into the mirror. What he saw did not please him in the slightest.
He looked twelve. Maybe thirteen. How he had not noticed the height difference before that point he did not know, unless he admitted that he could be extremely unobservant when he wanted to be. On the other hand, he had not really been free to gape at himself until that moment. Nevertheless, he frowned deeply at his reflection with the realization that the situation was much worse than he had initially thought. But, regardless of the revelation, he still needed more information. Perhaps that was something Hinata could help with.
He saw in the mirror that the housekeeper was doing some minor cleaning – his room was actually not that dirty and he doubted that he had any positive involvement in that condition – so he decided to talk to her while he got dressed. Fortunately, dressing himself was something he was apparently expected to be able to do; he doubted he could have stood still while people he barely knew touched him in places he was very defensive of.
"I noticed you didn't comment on my not knowing anything," he tested.
"Hokage-sama informed us of your condition so you would not have to," the girl explained easily.
"I see. In that case, refresh my memory. What's your name?"
"Shinju, Naruto-sama."
Pearl. She certainly had skin like one, if nothing else. "How old are you?"
"Sixteen."
He blinked. He was hardly an expert, but it seemed a bit old to be keeping house; if she had not intended to become a kunoichi and was not married then she should have been an apprentice to a weaver or potter or something. "Why are you here?"
"After Hokage-sama rescued Hotaru-sama," Shinju answered readily, as though she had rehearsed it, "the lady wanted to continue with that gift of hope and save others like her. I am one of those, as are the other caretakers here. Only Aya-san and Hitomi-san are from the village."
Naruto looked around the room and allowed himself to be impressed by the extent of its cleanliness. "Are you the only one who cleans my room?"
"Yes."
"Not that you aren't doing a good job," he assured her when she seemed to be distressed, "but why?"
"Because I'm closest to your age and Hotaru-sama thought that you might appreciate it after Akiko-sama was born. She was a baby then, and a lot of the attention was shifted from you for a while." She shook her head and added quietly, ". . . It was very hard for you to accept Akiko-sama because you had been an only child for so many years. I was new at the time, so you were tasked with being sure I knew my way about."
Naruto had already guessed the answer from her behavior, but inquired anyway, "Are we close?"
"Not very," was the eloquent response.
He made a mental note to rectify that. Her behavior indicated that she had never really settled down to life in the manor and she seemed afraid of him. "Are you ever going to leave this place?"
Shinju shook her head again, her face scarlet with her embarrassment. "Hokage-sama generously offered to help us find husbands or acquire work or an education and some of the girls have done those, but I'm far too shy to. This is the only place I know in Konoha."
He managed to hide a gawk of disbelief and decided to mark the note 'urgent'. "What sort of education do you have, if I may?"
Who the hell are you? Sarcasm demanded. Uzumaki Naruto doesn't have enough class to speak that way.
Not all of us are as transparent as you, Naruto hissed back viciously. Surprise!
"I can read and write a little," Shinju revealed shyly.
It was a place to start, at least. He glanced at the clock on the chest of drawers and winced; Hinata had been waiting for half an hour. "I really have to go, but I'd like to talk to you later, okay?"
". . . Yes sir," was the startled reply.
He left his room, marvelling at the sudden streak of goodwill toward the girl. Not that he would never have wanted to help, but normally he would have read her reluctance and, because she was a stranger and content with things, not pushed the issue. The difference, he realized with confusion, was that she did not feel like a stranger even though he was one hundred percent certain he had not met her before.
Fascinating, Kyuubi murmured, though what he was remarking on was unclear.
Any ideas? Naruto prompted.
One, but I need to organize my thoughts. As you were – I'll explain when I work this out.
Naruto sighed to the empty hallway. I hate being left in the dark.
To be continued in . . . Chapter 4 – Cluing In
The grounds that would be his someday, he informed himself with the same calm assertiveness that he had felt all his life when it came to being Hokage.
Despite what many people thought, being Hokage had not been entirely the result of the aggression he had suffered as a child. It did firm his resolve, but had not initiated the thought. He had been nearly six years old when he hadlooked out his apartment window, seen the Monument lit rather handsomely by the morning sun, admired it, and then wondered with genuine curiosity, "Wait . . . where did my head go?"
Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:
"Hotaru-san." … "After Hokage-sama rescued Hotaru-sama,"
Some of you may remember that in DNT, Arashi was "Hokage-sama" and Hotaru was "Lady Hotaru". Then and now, I believe(d) that "Lady Hotaru" is slightly more elegant than "Hotaru-sama" (in case anyone was wondering, this is the decisive proof you need that I am nothing but a stupid, ignorant American with virtually no concept of cultural niceties). However, for uniformity's sake I've finally changed it. Depending on your personal opinion, either I apologize or you're welcome.
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'Cogito ergo sum.'
The most basic concept, in Latin, of the philosophy of Descartes (who clearly had too much time on his hands). The English translation is: "I think, therefore I exist," or, more colloquially: "I think, therefore I am."
The Joke: Descartes has been travelling for a while, doing whatever it is philosophers do, and finally enters a local pub. He sits at the bar and enjoys a mug of his preferred drink, then rises once he finishes it. The bartender sees that he's ready to leave and asks companionably, "One for the road?" Descartes answers, "I think not," and disappears.
(For anyone who doesn't get it or doesn't have time or the desire to think about it, let me put it this way: "I think (not), therefore I am (not)." Hence, if Descartes has to think to exist but "thinks not", then by his own philosophy he doesn't exist and thus he vanishes.)
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"Hinata-chan?" he murmured sleepily …
For the uninitiated, the -chan suffix often refers to the age of someone; for example, Akiko is not three years old yet, so she is Akiko-chan. If Naruto were her age he himself might be called Naruto-chan, but his position would demand a measure of respect and most people would likely refer to him as Naruto-kun (if not Naruto-sama) even if he was only three years old. At any rate, the older someone is the less proper it is to use -chan or -kun without being given permission by that person (-san is most appropriate in a typical situation). Particularly in the case of a teenage boy or a grown man, using -chan would imply a considerable level of intimacy and/or would definitely be taken as an insult to his masculinity if strict permission had not been granted prior.
Along those lines, while calling a teen girl -chan is not exactly terrible, it does imply closeness (that's why Naruto always calls Sakura "Sakura-chan" – though he doesn't use -chan with the other girls – and why she hates it). So Naruto referring to parallel!Hinata as "Hinata-chan", which would not have been a big deal in canonverse because everyone there knows how he is, was almost a scandalous thing for him to say in parallelverse. As I understand it, at least. If I'm wrong on any of that, feel free to correct me.
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It's time to play a quick game of Draw Your Own Conclusion! Shinju is very shy and gets nervous when she's stared at. If you review, you won't be staring. Draw your own conclusion.
~RN (LS)
