CHAPTER 4
SOUTA
Life in Grass Village continued on as usual for Takara the weeks following Tenmei's departure. She found herself thinking of him at odd moments of the day - wishing to share some thing or another with him or wondering what he was doing at any given moment. Unbidden, the strange phrase from her dream of earlier came to mind: At some point we all get left behind. She now thought she better understood what that meant.
The day had started out with Takara feeling a bit under the weather upon waking. She'd decided to skip breakfast and head out early to prepare food before opening the diner. When she got there Hiro had not yet arrived, and his traps remained untouched from where he'd set them the night before. The woman paused, she'd watched the genin rig the contraptions on more occasions than she could count - she felt fairly certain that she could disable them without serious injury. The first step was knowing the order in which to begin.
Takara walked tentatively over to a hair-thin wire running across her path at ankle level. She thought she knew where the mechanism that disabled it was and carefully bent down to inspect the trap. An arm shot out in front of her without warning, taking her breath away and causing her to loose her balance. She was quickly snatched back by a pair of strong hands and came tumbling to the ground on her rear, her stomach lurching dangerously.
"What the hell are you doing?"
The woman turned dazedly to look into the face of a livid thirteen-year-old looming over her. Hiro was panting breathlessly, "You could've killed yourself - I had to body flicker to get over here in time!"
"Hiro, what are you doing here," she asked bewilderedly.
"Saving your life, idiot! What do you think you were doing?"
She slowly pulled herself up and onto her feet with a grunt, "Well, I was going to start opening the store before you tackled me."
"You were trying to mess with my traps - why would you do something like that?"
"I can't do anything else until they're disabled, can I?"
The boy put a hand to his forehead, rubbing it furiously before he replied slowly and deliberately, "Don't ever do that again."
"But I've watched you do it a hundred times," she argued, "I can figure it out."
"No you can't, Takara, I do it slightly different every time, but you wouldn't know that because you're not a ninja!" The young shinobi was practically quivering as he spoke. Abruptly, he bent over the wire she'd been about to release before being stopped by him and undid it. With a motion too swift for her eye to follow, he jerked his hand back as a shower of senbon rained down where he'd been only moments before and buried themselves into the ground.
"You see: disabling it only triggers another trap," he explained darkly.
Takara gaped at the needles jutting out of the earth, then slowly back at Hiro, "I-I guess I didn't consider that..." She presently looked down at the young man's sleeve which was torn, a bright red gash across his forearm lazily saturated the fabric.
"Hiro, you're injured!"
He glanced down at the wound as if it were merely a ketchup stain, "It's nothing," he dismissed.
"Listen, I'm sorry; it was dumb of me to do something like that - you're right - but we need to get that looked at," she reached out and carefully took his arm. Suddenly, a wave of pure nausea nearly knocked her over, Takara had to twist sideways in order to keep from vomiting on Hiro. She doubled over, heaving uncontrollably as whatever little food she had in her stomach came gushing up.
"Takara, what's wrong; are you okay?" She felt Hiro's hand on her back. She took a breath to try and answer, but instead a fresh outporing of pale liquid spurted from her mouth.
"Is it because of my arm," he asked after her wretching had finally subsided.
The red-head shook her head, taking several deep breaths before attempting to speak again. "No, I just woke up feeling kind of ill."
The authoritative, older-brother tone was now back in his voice, "Then you don't need to be coming to work!"
"This is the first time I've thrown up," she defended.
"You're the one who should go to the doctor," Hiro told her.
Takara remained hunched over lest she loose anything else that might still remain in her virtually empty stomach; she thought for a moment. "Maybe they'd be able to give me some medicine so I can still work. Hiro, why don't you come too and have your arm taken care of before we start to open."
"Fine," he agreed.
Together, the two went to the hospital and, before long, were each seen by a medic-nin. Takara sat on the examination table anxiously awaiting the return of her doctor, checking the clock every three minutes to see what time it was. She wished they'd hurry up and write her a perscription so she could fill it and get back to work - she was already feeling better anyway.
At last the office door opened and the young medic who couldn't have been more than sixteen years old emerged, carrying a clip-board in her hand. She smiled cheerfully at the woman as she took a seat in the desk chair before her patient. "Well, Takara-san, I think we've found the reason why you've been feeling ill lately..."
When the waitress returned to the waiting room several minutes later, a fully healed Hiro was waiting for her. He took one look at her vacant expression as she wandered over and immediately began his interrogation: "What did they say, is it anything serious, are you going to be able to work, do you need to go home and lay down?"
She raised a hand for him to be quiet. Takara considered for a moment what to tell the high-strung youth, but finally decided she might as well tell him the truth and be done with it. "Hiro, I'm pregnant."
000
Over Nine months later...
With her due date only days away, Takara continued with her usual routine, which included heading out to open the restaraunt every morning. With the uncertainty of single parenthood looming over her - the waitressing mother-to-be had a lot of decisions to make right away, beginning with her very first decision to keep the tiny embryo left behind by Tenmei. She couldn't give anyone who asked a specific reason why she'd so quickly come to this decision, but even now she didn't doubt it was the right one.
Was it that she'd fallen in loved with Tenmei after all and wanted to have this little piece of him? She still wasn't sure of that herself. Perhapse it was a deep-seated maternal instict that drove her decision. Despite the fact that she'd considered having a family at some point, this wasn't the ideal situation she'd always drempt about. Takara believed there was more to it than any of these reasons, however. The more she thought about it, she was tired of always being 'left behind' - it was time to move forward with her life. Soon there would be someone who needed her for every little thing, and more than anything she wanted to be there for that person.
"Oh, there you are," Hiro said, as they both rounded the same corner. The boy had been taking it upon himself to escort her to work for the past six months; she'd given up trying to make him stop five months ago.
"Good morning, Hiro." A small foot presently slammed itself against the top of her swollen belly and Takara jumped.
"What," demanded the teen, immediately at her side. Hiro had remained awkwardly silent around her the following weeks after she'd found out about her pregnancy. To her releif at least, he hadn't said anything to her about Tenmei or berated her as he was prone to do. Gradually, as he seemed to adjust to her present condition, things returned to normal between them and - if possible - Hiro became even more protective and overbearing as if to compensate for the new edition.
She laughed, "It's nothing; he just kicked me."
Hiro smirked, "He's already preparing for when he becomes a shinobi."
"Maybe you could be his sensei," she teased.
"Definitely - if I ever make it past genin..."
Together they walked to the diner, planning out her baby's future ninja career.
For better or worse, news of Takara's pregnancy spread fast around the village. Fortunately, she found her share of support from the people she knew. Most of them seemed to feel sorry for her, believeing her the victim of some wicked foreighner's conquest (the majority also seemed to know about Tenmei). Takara did her best to take everything in stride and pretend not to notice the whispers whenever she waddled by - for the most part she didn't let it bother her anymore; she was already used to being pitied and judged to a certain degree anyway.
The always cramped kitchen was even smaller now thanks to Takara's enormous stomach. Her arms stretched to reach the pot she was stirring, while her rear end butted up against the shelves behind her - she felt like a walrus packed into a sardine can. She was also burning up to the point that she thought she might pass out, and would stick her head out the door every now and then to get a breath of fresh air before plunging back in.
The day was busy and Hiro and Hayato Ojiichan were both working up front. The further along she progressed the more time Takara spent in the back, being unable to manuever quickly around tables and customers anymore. The expectant cook did her best to ignore her sore back and aching feet that no longer fit into anything but flip-flops, and momentarily rested her butt on a low shelf while continuing to stir the soup. Every now and again the tiny person residing in her uterus would deliver a vigorous roundhouse to the abdomen, causing her to catch her breath.
The day seemed especially long. Takara's feet screamed, her back throbbed, and every now and then her innards contracted painfully. She silently wondered if she'd be able to make it to her due date in three days and thanked God that her maternity leave began tomorrow. By closing time she was scarcely able to walk.
"I'm not about to let you walk home," Hiro declared while stacking up chairs.
"What are you going to do," she shot back irritably, "carry me?"
The young man stared back challengingly, "That's exactly what I'm going to do - got a problem with it?"
"No, Hiro, absolutely not - you aren't going to lug my bloated butt all the way home; you probably couldn't even lift me off the ground!"
"Don't insult me!"
"I'm not insulting you; I'm insulting myself."
"Well, don't do that either," he ordered, "I'm taking you home, so just get over it."
"Pardon me, I couldn't help overhearing," the two turned to see Asa, who'd been about to leave, now standing in front of them, "I can take Takara-san home; I was just about to head back up to the wall and will be going that way anyway."
Hiro opened his mouth to reply, but the red-head cut him off, "Why thank you, Asa san, that's so kind of you. I'm very sorry to be such a huge - and I do mean huge - burden..."
"Not at all," the man insisted, "It would be my pleasure to carry such a beauty; you're weight won't feel like anything to me."
"Ahahaha - that's a lie, but thanks anyway," she giggled.
Hiro did not look amused in the least and glowered at both of them.
"Just let me finish up here, and I'll be ready," she told him.
"You're finished; please go home and rest, Takara chan," Hayato told her from where he was counting register.
"Well, okay; thanks, Ojiichan," she beamed gratefully, "Hopefully the next time I see you I'll finally have had this baby...good night, Hiro."
"Yeah," the boy frowned unhappily, "see you later."
With that, she and Asa made tracks for her apartment. Takara hoped she hadn't hurt Hiro's feelings - the truth was she was embarassed for him to carry her. She couldn't presicely say why - it may have been partially because she disliked feeling dependant on a kid, but also there was the thought of appearing somehow pathetic to her friend that her pride wouldn't allow.
Once Asa had dropped her off and made sure she was okay, the pregnant woman went to soak in the tub for a couple of hours before heading to bed early. She fully intended to spend as much time sleeping as possible before the new edition arrived.
The time was only a few minutes after midnight when a jolt of pain suddenly started the woman awake from a light and uncomfortable sleep. Takara clutched the sheets and shut her eyes tightly against the pain. She'd experienced similar sensations in weeks past - but it had always turned out to be false labor.
Determined to ingnore the pain and get back to sleep, she impatiently waited for the pang to subside. Gradually, the cramp in her belly eased and Takara exhaled in relief before attempting to find a more comfortable position. She'd only just begun to dose once again when she was seized by the most powerful contraction she'd experienced yet; Takara gasped and struggled to sit up, but the pang grew even stronger. The woman groaned as her entire body clenched up against the pain. She still wasn't ready to accept her contractions as the real deal just yet - before going through all of the hassle of calling her midwife, she wanted to be sure this kid wasn't having one over on her again.
"I won't fall for the same trick a third time," she told her rotund abdomen breathlessly.
Minutes passed and finally the pain subsided once again. Takara breathed a sigh of releif, letting her tensed muscles relax. She continued sitting upright several more minutes lest she be assaulted by yet another onslaught before her upper half slowy began to collapse back to the futon of its own accord.
Just as her head was sinking deeply into the pillow once again, a soft popping sound, like a stopper yanked from a drain, caught her attention and made the woman crack open one eye apprehensively.
"What now," she moaned.
Immediately afterward, a gush of warm fluid oozed unbidden over the bedding where she lay. Struggling back up and throwing the sheets aside, Takara turned on her bedside lamp and examined the suspicious liquid.
"No way," she quietly gasped in realization. She instantly rolled off her futon and crawled to the phone, dialing the number for her midwife, "Hello, Amaya, it's Takara; I think my water just broke..."
000
Takara's son, Souta, was born at 4:30am. After cleaning him up, Amaya wrapped the tiny boy in a fresh blanket and handed him over to his wearily joyous mother. Her tired eyes attempted to focus, in the darkness, upon the whimpering bundle, in her arms for the first time. His angry red skin stood out strikingly against the white blanket he rested in, and he wore the most furious expression that she'd ever seen on a baby's scrunched face.
"Hi, Souta, I'm your mommy."
Souta grimaced.
"I'm sorry, baby, here," she held him closely against her, rocking him back and forth.
The middle-aged woman smiled down at the pair, "See if he wants to nurse, then the two of you should rest for a few hours; I'll run some more tests after that."
With Souta pressed gently against her abdomen, the woman fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When she awoke, and sparse morning light streamed into the small apartment, Takara finally got her first clear look at the sleeping infant. She was amazed to see that the fine tuft of hair that ran along the top of his head like a mohawk was almost the same shade as her own firey locks.
Thougts of Tenmei surfaced unbidden into her brain - she found herself wondering what the Leaf ninja would think of his son if he could see him. Of course, she had no intention of ever trying to contact him concerning Souta - she'd come to realize that the time they'd spent together had only been a temporary connection between two strangers. Each had their own lives to attend to in different countries, and she wished him all the best. She was satisfied with simply preserving the memories she had of Tenmei, and now she had this small piece of him as well.
Souta's face suddenly contorted and a tiny cry pierced the morning silence. Takara shifted him in order to begin nursing. Just as she expected, his cries immediately subsided.
The midwife came over now and carefully began examining mother and child.
The red-haired woman, meanwhile, gazed intently at her equally crimson-headed infant. Even his tiny eyelashes, she noticed, had a strawberry tint to them. As the newborn suckled, those pale lashes slowly separated - Takara presently realized that she'd yet to see him open his eyes. She wondered if they would be the same shade as her own, or possibly even - Takara let out a gasp as her son's lids rose to reveal pupiless irises of the palest blue-white.
"Those are certainly some unique eyes he has," remarked Amaya, "I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like it."
"Me either," marveled Takara. Actually, they weren't the exact color as Tenmei's overcast greyish orbs, nor were they her clear blue ones - Souta's eyes were the color of the sky hidden behind translucent cloudlets. She may have been bias, but she was fairly certain she had the most beautiful child in the world. The woman wondered if he would also posess the same special abilities as his father - though without anyone to teach him, he'd probably never be able to make full use of them.
Regardless, he'd make Grass proud one day by becoming a strong ninja. Until then, however, he was hers to love and care for and protect.
000
For the past few months, the only books Takara had read were on pregnancy and parenting. Still, nothing had really prepared her for being a new mother and the sheer amount of dedication immediately demanded of her. She fed her baby at least ten times a day on a fairly regular schedule around the clock, she burped him, rocked him, changed him - the cycle went on for the first couple of days until it was time to take Souta for his checkup.
Takara slipped the infant into his tiny onesie and pulled a cap over his red hair, she then harnessed him into his pouch against her stomach and together they emerged into the sunlight for the first time since his birth. Ready for a break, she looked forward to some fresh air and taking Souta out with her into the world for a little while. What she hadn't expected was the immediate attention they would recive the moment she stepped out of her door.
"Takara-san, who's that with you," a loud voice bellowed from above. She looked up to see Kaemon waving down at her from the top of the wall. As if on cue, a small group of kunoichi suddenly jumped down from the structure and gathered round to admire the newborn.
"How cute!"
"Is it a boy or a girl?"
"What's his name?"
"How old is he?"
Although flattered by the delight of the other women over her obviously adorable child, she was still a bit apprehensive about anyone holding or otherwise putting their hands on the two-day-old and carefully excused herself as having to get Souta to his doctor's appointment.
"Do you need any help getting to the hospital," asked Asa who was all of a sudden standing behind her.
Takara, who still found herself taken off guard by ninja stealth even after all these years, gave a slight start at the sound of his voice. "Oh no, I'll be fine; I know you have to be getting back to work."
"It won't take long," he insisted.
"Well, it's just that I have to hold him," she indicated the baby.
"I can carry both of you - very gently."
"You should let him," said one of the kunoichi, "there's no reason for you to have to walk the whole way there with your baby."
She thought for a moment and decided perhapse it might be a good idea not to have Souta out in the elements for too long. Hesitantly accepting Asa's offer, she carefully clutched the boy to her, sheilding him from the wind, as the chunin took her swiftly to her destination.
Much to Takara's releif, her newborn recieved a clean bill of health from the doctor. Happily, she carried him back home - recieving glances and smiles from seemingly everyone she passed. Admittedly, Kusa was a rather small village, still it baffled her how people she'd never said more than two words to before were suddenly greeting her by name and coming up to see Souta. Like her, they marveled at his misty bluish eyes and complimented her on how cute he was.
Before too long, however, the little boy began to get restless and she knew he would need to be fed soon. Takara excused herself and continued home, hoping to make it back before the poor baby began to wail. As she approached the village wall once again she could hear Kaemon's clear, booming voice shouting down to her.
"Everything go okay?"
"Yes, he's very healthy," she waved back happily as she continued walking. She noticed the same kunoichi from earlier also waving back as she went.
By the time she and Souta made it back home, the woman's head was practically swimming with all the smiles and compliments her baby had garnered in just one afternoon. The boy, on the other hand, took everything in stride and hardly seemed to notice what a celebrity he'd suddenly become at less than a week old.
"Don't let fame change you," she warned the nursing child, "just stay your sweet self no matter what, okay?"
As if in reply, Souta let go of the nipple and promptly spit up.
"Alright, just so long as we're clear, then."
The days passed and eventually she decided it was time to take her child out to meet her friends and co-workers. She awoke early to feed him, she then changed, bathed and dressed the boy before getting herself ready; by the time she had finished the entire ordeal, it was already time for Souta to be fed once again. Finally, when they were both ready, Takara bundled up the baby and they headed first for the diner.
Along the way they paused several times to talk with passers by, including a couple of the waitress's regular customers. Everyone loved and made a big fuss over Souta, especially the older ladies who all offered to baby-sit whenever the young woman needed it. Takara began to feel overwhelmed by the outpouring of support from everyone in the village. How did simply getting herself pregnant by a foreighner she barely knew and then raising a child on a server's salary with no father make her someone to be admired? If anything, it would have made more sense for her to be ridiculed and scorned by the majority of people.
She was still pondering these things as she neared the restaurant at last. Hiro spotted her long before she actually reached the establishment and rushed over to meet her, abandoning the table he was cleaning. Takara was just glad he hadn't done the same thing to a table with people already at it (she wouldn't exactly put it past him).
"Hey," he said simply, stopping short several feet away from her with a hesitant grin. The young man carefully eyed the small bundle slung round her middle like it might have been a ticking bomb.
Smiling back, the woman finished closing the gap between them. "Hi Hiro," she replied, reaching out and pulling him to her in a hug. He refused to meet her eyes again for several moments after they separated, instead however, he focused on the tiny head poking out of the harness between them.
"Would you like to see him," she asked, reaching for the baby boy.
"Sure," he nodded.
Takara scooped the infant up into her arms and held him toward Hiro who gazed wonderingly at the small pinkish creature. Souta's pale eyes widened at the proximity of the strange new face as he regarded the older boy with equal amazement.
Hesitantly, Hiro stuck out a finger and slid it under the edge of the baby's cap, lifting it up to reveal a swatch of scarlet hair underneath. The youth smirked slightly, "He looks like you."
"Wanna hold him?"
"Huh," he suddenly stammered, "N-no I don't really know if that's - uh..."
"Come on," she urged, holding the child out to the reluctant teenager, "don't be scared, he can't bite you; he doesn't even have teeth yet."
"I'm not scared," groused the brunet, awkwardly holding out his arms to recieve the bundle of joy, "I've just never done this before."
"All you have to do is be sure and support his head," explained Takara, carefully situating the child in his arms. As soon as the baby's weight was transferred over to him, however, Hiro shifted into statue mode. Standing rigid as a post, he didn't so much as blink until she finally took pity on him and retrieved her son once again. The boy sighed as if relieved of an extraordinary burden.
"I guess Hayato Ojiichan must be busy in the kitchen," she said once she'd recovered enough from laughing at Hiro.
"Yeah," harumphed the irritated kid.
"I wanted him to see Souta too."
Hiro shifted toward her thoughtfully, "So, when will you be going back to work?"
"Well, I can't stay out for too long - probably only a couple more weeks or so," she frowned, "I still have to make arrangements for a baby-sitter."
"My mom could baby-sit for you," he told her.
She gave the teen a curious look, "Isn't your mom a ninja - she'd probably be too busy with missions to baby-sit, wouldn't she?"
"Being a ninja doesn't necessarily mean you go on missions every day; some ninja haven't been on missions for years (especially in this village...)"
"Still," protested the woman, "I don't want to impose on your mother."
"You aren't imposing - she wants to do it."
Takara walked with him toward the counter, holding Souta in her arms, "How do you know she wants to do that - you shouldn't just volunteer your mother for random things, Hiro."
"I'm not! Look, she really liked the food you forced me to take home that one time, and she's talked about doing something to repay you ever since...besides, she loves babies."
"I gave you that food way back before I was even pregnant," she laughed.
"So what? You should still go talk to her."
Takara had met Hiro's mother once months ago when she'd come by to personally thank Takara for the large basket of food she'd sent home with the boy shortly after learning of his father's death. She'd been struck by the physical similarities between mother and son - she was like looking at an older female version of Hiro with her tousled brunette hair and her dark, piercing eyes. Her personality, on the other hand, seemed much more meek and demure than her boisterous child's. Despite only a single brief meeting with the woman, Takara had felt an instant connection with her; if she honestly was interested in taking care of Souta, the red-head felt safe entrusting her baby to Hiro's mother.
Hayato Ojiichan was delighted with Souta and fawned over him as if he were the boy's own grandfather, "I never get to see my own grandchildren anymore," he said ruefully.
After spending a little more time with the two of them and showing off Souta to some of the lunch customers, Takara sat down to some of Ojiichan's cooking while another woman customer happily held her son and fed him from a bottle.
Business that day was slow enough that Hayato Ojiichan eventually told Hiro he could leave early. The young man urged his manager, once again, to come home with him and meet his mother. Such an invitation was unprecedented: it was unusual for Hiro to even mention his home life as a general rule, much less actually invite someone he worked with to his house. Takara found that she couldn't say no and, retrieving her sleeping baby from his temporary caretaker, got ready to follow her friend home.
When Hiro had told her that his mother loved babies, he hadn't been exageraging - if anything, that was an understatement. Once Hakuai, Hiro's mother, had finished showing Takara every baby photo and article of clothing she'd kept from her own son's infancy (not to mention all the stories and details of his baby-hood) the red-haired woman was fairly certain Hiro deeply regretted ever bringing her over.
"I always kept these in the unlikely hope that someday Hiro might have a little brother or sister, but," the dark-haired woman gave a wistful sigh, "now you can use them for your little one."
"All of these," Takara indicated the piles of clothes ranging from newborn all the way to toddler sizes, "Hakuai san, that's too much!"
"Not at all! They might as well be useful for someone, and this way I'll get to see Souta-chan in them!" She clapped exitedly. (Needless to say, Hakuai had taken the notion of baby-sitting extrordinarily well.)
The younger woman presently noticed a colorful collection of pieced material neatly folded in a nearby box with several other baby articles. "What's this?"
"This," Hakuai said, unfolding the fabric, "is a baby quilt that I made for Hiro while I was pregnant." (The boy in question had long since slunk away and left the two of them to their devices.) She now held it up to show Takara.
"It's beautiful," the other woman marveled at the fine stitchwork and delicate patterns of the little quilt; an idea slowly dawned on her.
Takara hadn't done any actual sewing in years, though she remembered her mother teaching her some stitchery. Her mother had, in fact, quilted quite often and Takara recalled watching long ago as she cut and pieced together tiny squares of fabric at her sewing table. Stopping by the library on her way back home, the new mom dropped a couple of quilting books on the table before sitting down to feed a hungry Souta later that evening.
000
The weeks passed quickly into months, and before long the waitress was back at work and her baby was spending the days with Hiro's mother. Together, the two women were able to share in Souta's first milestones - including lifting his head up, when he first rolled over and his first smile - all of which Hakuai meticulously recorded for his mother. Takara, dissapointed whenever she was not around to witness such precious occurances when they first happened, was delighted at least when she got to hear him laugh for the first time.
While bathing him one night, she'd made a certain high-pitched noise which had caused the small boy to suddenly explode into hysterics. The more she did it, the harder he laughed, and soon they were both in stitches. When she'd excitedly told Hakuai the following morning, they'd both tried imitating different sounds for the baby's amusement, but Souta merely indulged their silliness with a patronizing smile.
"Another way that he's like his father," noted Takara, "he loves watching me make a fool of myself."
During the day, the new mom found her mind constantly filled with thoughts of her baby boy. She looked forward to the end of every work day in anticipation of seeing him again - it was unlike any emotion she'd ever felt about anyone before. She doubted she'd ever love another person with the same intensity as she did Souta and was content to simply have him as company. Even the previously empty hole inside of her felt full and comfortable now. Takara had everything she could ever want in the squirming red-haired mass that was her tiny son.
Likewise, the whole village seemed almost equally as in love with the boy - at least that was how she saw it in her motherly perspective - as she herself was. Why not, she thought, he was the world's most adorable child after all. People she met on the street or at at work constantly asked her about him, and she was always ready with an answer or a cute story to tell. Even Hiro had eventually warmed to the baby and could now do everything from feeding to changing diapers.
"Good afternoon, Takara san, how is the baby?"
The waitress smiled warmly at one of the kunoichi guards from the wall who'd shown up for a late lunch. "Wonderful as usual, though I think he might be teething - he's been chewing and drooling a lot recently."
"Be sure and put his teething ring in the freezer before you give it to him - it was the only thing that pacified my daughter when she was teething," advised the other woman.
"I'll have to do that," the server replied.
"How old is the little tyke now," a rather haggard Kaemon, who'd obviously just returned from a long mission and sat down for a bite to eat, abruptly spoke up from the neighboring table.
"He's going on twenty three weeks now," answered Takara.
Her bearded friend gave a distracted smile and returned to eating his meal.
A few hours later found her and Hiro busily closing up for the evening. As usual, the woman was anxious to get back to her baby and hurried to finish the last few things before Hiro could set his traps and they could call it a night.
"Alright, Hiro, you can go ahead and I'll wait for you."
The crimson-headed woman walked away to allow the youth the vast amount of room he demanded for rigging up his 'alarm system'. Ever since the one time she'd ever tried messing with his traps, the genin now insisted she not even be around while he set them. Impatiently, she stood beside the street with her arms crossed over her chest waiting until he finished.
She looked up at approaching footsteps only to see Kaemon walking toward her. The older ninja gave a friendly wave.
"Oh, hello Kaemon-san, I thought you'd already left and gone home - I'm sure you must be exhausted."
"Not just yet," the middle-aged man admitted, "but I actually wanted to speak with you if possible."
"Of course," she frowned uncertainly, "but what about?"
Kaemon, himself, seemed unsure exactly how to proceed with what he wanted to say, "Actually, it's about your son," he finally blurted out.
Takara started, "My son - what do you mean?"
"Well I've been wondering - that is - whether or not you've kept in contact with the boy's father," inquired the ninja with apparent effort.
Takara, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the subject, wondered what in the world the man could possibly be trying to get at. "I - I'm afraid I don't..."
"The reason I ask," he plunged ahead quickly, "is because I saw some things while on my last mission - apparently ANBU opperatives from Konoha are still patroling near the village..."
"I'm sorry Kaemon-san, but I still don't understand what that has to do with Souta or his father."
"You do know about his bloodline ability, don't you?"
"Well, yes, byakugan right?"
The man nodded, "That's right, and it would seem that it might have gotten passed down to your baby as well."
The woman shrugged, "Maybe, he does have similar eyes, but what about it?"
Kaemon didn't reply right away, but appeared to deliberate over his next words. "I'm only saying this as a friend, but I think it would probably be in your best interest if Leaf didn't know about Souta," he said at last.
Takara gaped at him, bewildered and at a loss for words.
"Alright, I'm ready," Hiro suddenly called out from several yards away. The red-head jumped at the sound of his voice.
"Hey, what's up," asked the genin as he reached the place where the the two of them stood.
Kaemon gave his civilian friend one last meaningful look, "I'd better be going - take care, Takara-san," he said as he placed a large hand briefly on her shoulder and squeezed. Dumbly she watched as he turned to leave. By the time she rediscoverd the ability to vocalize anything, the ninja had already made his way across the street and was a small fuzzy form against the early evening sky.