A/N – A little earlier than I wanted to post this today, but my husband and I are leaving for a weekend camping trip straight after Jummah today, so I won't be able to post it later!
WARNING! - If you have ever lived in an active war-zone, or through any sort of similar conflict and feel like you may be triggered by reading descriptions of one, I would recommend skipping the italicized portion of this chapter. I wrote it how I remember it, and although it's not too gory or descriptive with violence, I just want you guys to take care of your health.
Language warning for Kyohei's potty mouth.
.
.
"ANBU Hare, report. You may speak freely from your ANBU identity for the time being."
At the Hokage's command, Kyohei materialized in front of the village leader, crouched just above the ground in reverence.
The turmoil that ravaged within him was not visible on his face. His trademark, Inuzuka smirk was painted on his lips with perfection instead, his body posture casual despite his uniform and position. The raging thoughts and emotions had been shoved so far down inside of him that he almost forgot they existed.
Almost.
Nevertheless, he played his role perfectly. He'd had twenty-eight years of practice, he could do this.
He appeared casual, cocky, and collected, as per usual. He couldn't afford a slip, the old man sitting behind the desk was still one of the most powerful shinobi in the world, and extremely perceptive as well. Kyohei proceeded as normally as he could, keeping that thought in mind.
"Hai, Hokage-sama." Kyohei removed his mask, allowing his features to display the feral grin he was well known for, Inuzuka canines glistening.
"It has now been five weeks of surveillance. What are your thoughts on the continuation of your current assignment? Have there been any changes to note that you have not already concluded in your reports?" He demanded, beady eyes peering curiously over that old pipe that continued to emit a foul-smelling smoke.
You mean other than the fact that the woman isn't from this world and I don't know where her loyalties lie yet? Other than the fact that your most trusted ANBU captain and squad leader is a fraud, just like her? Other than the fact that I know everything that's going to happen here? Yeah, everything's good. Just peachy.
His internal tirade was heavily laden with vicious sarcasm, but he only responded with a careful lie that he desperately hoped the veteran and leader would buy. Neither his chakra signature nor his tone wavered as he spoke.
"No, Hokage-sama."
Hiruzen nodded, continuing to appraise him with an unreadable gaze.
"And what are your opinions on her? Are her intentions pure?"
Kyohei prepared himself. Ivan had always had a penchant for the dramatics, and he had been one hell of a gambler in his past life. His poker face was one of the best, and he could only hope that it was good enough to fool the man in front of him.
"That woman wouldn't even kill a spider if you payed her five million ryo." He sighed, running a hand through his hair for emphasis. "She's a bit of a pushover too, too kind for her own good. She's even been trying to teach the brat some manners, and I'll be damned if it isn't working. They have a relationship like cousins or siblings, sort of like Kiba and I. Oh, and let me tell ya, when she makes yakitori it smells so good -"
"Your point, Kyohei-kun?" Interrupted his superior with a small smile.
"Ah, right. My point is that in five weeks of on and off surveillance, I haven't seen one malicious intention from her. She isn't a threat, I'd bet my life on it. Looks like it's doing Uzumaki some good, too." He relayed his lie strongly, attempting to make it sound full of conviction and assurance. "So, can I please have another assignment already?"
The Hokage actually chuckled aloud at his last statement, shaking a head at his brazen demand.
Inwardly, the Inuzuka felt the fear in his chest dissipate somewhat – Hiruzen had always shown a soft spot towards Kyohei, and never had Kyohei been anything but loyal to him. He had even taken a kunai in the gut for his Hokage years ago during an assassination attempt, when he'd been a fresh ANBU recruit desperate to prove his worth and ready to lay down his life for the man who had recruited him and given him something to fight for in this new world.
Hiruzen had been the one to gift him with a purpose in his second life when he'd been drifting aimlessly with no real direction. He'd been a soldier in his first life, and shinobi in the next, but Hiruzen had helped him to understand the reason behind why they fought under the Will of Fire, why they killed for it. It was his Hokage who had helped him to foster a profound love for this village, the same love he had once held for his homeland in his first life. He had given Kyohei the drive to make himself into a high-ranking Jonin and ANBU member, he had given Kyohei the drive to keep fighting. Hiruzen, the man he was betraying in this very moment, was the man he owed everything to.
Kyohei would not have been the man he was today without Sarutobi Hiruzen.
He let none of those past ties cloud his mind now, however. Hiruzen was smart and cunning, and even if the man might never have suspected such insubordination and treachery from him, he would remain on guard, the stakes were too high not to.
Treason, that was exactly what he was committing at this very moment.
The funny part was that he hadn't even thought about it – his mind had been made up to help the woman from the moment he realized she was just like him, lost and alone. He may have found a reason to fight for this village, but at the end of the day he was still a stranger living amongst strangers who weren't supposed to exist with no real reassurance that he was doing the right thing in this world, or why he had been brought here in the first place.
Kimari was still recovering inside her apartment, but when she awoke she was in for the surprise of a lifetime, as well as an interrogation.
It was his deepest hope, a desperate wish, that she would have the answer he sought. Perhaps she would know the answer to the question he had been searching for an explanation to for the past twenty-eight years. Maybe she would be the one to offer him the enlightenment to bring peace to his soul with that answer. And that peace was something he would give anything for.
The question itself was simple, so simple it was laughable. But that one, singular question that had seemed so simple at the beginning had morphed into a complexity unlike any that he had ever pondered upon.
The question?
Why? Why am I here?
And so, he had betrayed his village in an instant, the village he had been born and raised in, the village that he had come to love just as much as his homeland from his first life. The village he had killed for, the village he had promised to die for.
All of it, he had betrayed without a single regret. Just so he could find out if she knew.
And if she didn't know? Well, he supposed he still would have made that same decision to protect her, regardless of what information she could offer him. He had spent years wondering, searching for clues or trails that might indicate there were others like him, but she was the first he had encountered in what was now almost three decades.
He didn't know if he was making the right choice or not, he didn't know if his treason would be worth it in the end, and he certainly didn't know who Kimari really was or where her loyalties landed. All he knew was that he didn't feel quite so alone anymore, and that feeling of companionship empowered him with the confidence he needed to commit treason.
She would understand him, on a more intimate level than anyone had for the entirety of his life here. She knew would know what it felt like, she would understand the trials and tribulations of becoming somebody else, of leaving your last life to be shoved into a mold that didn't fit quite right in the next one, wearing the skin of somebody else while living with the memories of another place and time.
Sure, he fit right in with the Inuzuka. He truly felt like he belonged with them, and he would lay his life down for any single member of his clan. But he still went to bed each night with that unsettling question of who he really was and what he was doing here.
So, he lied.
"I suppose that settles things." The elder man affirmed, his voice still carrying the ghost of his previous laugh. "You will have two weeks of paid vacation for your hard work, after that time is up your squad will be reinstated for field work."
"Field work, Hokage-sama?" He questioned immediately, before he'd truly had a chance to process the relief in his heart when the old man had taken his word as truth.
"There are a few sensitive missions on the horizon, and your Special Operations Squad is the best fit for the tasks at hand. Squad Seven will be reassigned to guard Naruto-kun. I want my best trackers and short-range fighting specialists on this upcoming mission, and you and your squad are the best."
Now that caught his attention.
In the last year, he had only been relieved of surveillance duties and temporary rotations in the Hokage Guard when there was a mission so delicate that only the best of the best were sent to take care of things. It didn't happen often, only a few times a year at most.
But what could possibly be so sensitive that his squad was being removed from their duty as Jinchuuriki baby-sitters?
The shock must have registered on his face, because the pipe-smoking man voiced a question to him almost immediately.
"Have you any questions, Kyohei-kun?"
About a million, old man.
"This reassignment to active field duty, is it temporary or permanent?" It was the only question out of the many that were surfacing in his mind.
"Time will tell. I expect this reassignment to be long-term, however. Our most skilled trackers and combat specialists will be needed for these missions. There seems to be trouble brewing throughout the elemental nations, and I have a suspicion as to who might be behind it."
"Then, I'm being relieved of my surveillance duty for the time being?" Kyohei could have sighed in relief. This change in assignments would mean it would be easier to get to the girl without being noticed, especially if she was not going to be scrutinized under surveillance any longer. And he couldn't deny he preferred field work over the boredom that accompanied surveillance duty. "Finally, some action!"
Hiruzen's lips quirked once more in unrestrained amusement.
"Indeed. In two weeks you will be assigned to normal Jonin missions when you are not taking part in these covert operations with your ANBU squad. Enjoy your vacation, ANBU Hare."
The dismissal was evident in his tone, and the fact that he had switched from calling him by his given name to his ANBU identity made his instructions clear.
Kyohei slid his mask back atop his face, dropping his voice to the neutral tone expected of all ANBU agents.
"Hai, Hokage-sama."
And with that, he disappeared from view, masking his chakra and casting a cloaking jutsu over his form as he jumpted between rooftops as quickly as he could back towards the woman's apartment, where he had left her with a clone to care for her and fuinjutsu privacy seals plastered over four of her walls.
It was time to get down to business.
.
.
Explosions in the distance, growing louder and louder as the shelling neared the neighborhood her family resided in.
Lamees' feet pounded on the dusty streets, tattered shoes leaping over bits of debris and chunks of what used to be buildings that had once been so familiar to her but were now nothing but rubble. A raging fire here, broken body there, but none of it mattered. Her hijab was slipping backwards, but in that moment, she wasn't concerned.
There were no air raid sirens, no warning for those who were out and about to take cover, to pray for deliverance from the missiles and shells that continued to strike mercilessly at their targets. It was common that the governing body carrying out the strike would send a few warning shots first, as if a few warning shots could somehow make the inevitable destruction that followed a bit more ethical.
These were not warning shots, however, not this time.
Lamees knew exactly where the missiles and bombs were coming from. And to be honest, she didn't care anymore.
The results of the airstrikes were the same, it didn't matter who fired the missiles or dropped the bombs first. It was a never-ending cycle of a horrendous trade-off of death and destruction, two groups taking turns raining despair upon each other.
And it was the civilians caught in the crossfire of those two groups who paid the price for it, every single time.
'Don't forget to pick up your brothers after school, habibti.' Her mother had warned her earlier with a look of disapproval when she found her daughter with her medical textbooks, once again hiding away with her head in her studies instead of helping her in the bakery. 'You're already late, think of my poor baby boys, waiting all by themselves because my lazy daughter is off with her head in her books again! Yallah! Go!'
So, she went.
It wasn't long after she left the house, realizing that she was, indeed, late, that the air raid began. And now her walk had turned into a desperate sprint.
Her eyes were focused on the thick clouds of black smoke that billowed into the sky. The plumes of smoke smothered the sun, the dust made her lungs feel thick, and the tears that streamed down her face mixed with the blood that poured from a wound on her temple that had most likely been inflicted by shrapnel of some sort. But she didn't stop, she couldn't stop.
She pushed forward, increasing her pace, even as the shelling continued and her ears rang from the horrible noise of roaring explosions.
Somebody called out to her as she ran past, attempting to grab at her arm and begging her to turn back and head towards cover like a sane woman. She only ripped her hand from the older woman's wrinkled grasp and continued on. She wondered if her family had found somewhere safe to hide when the bombings began, there were no official shelters throughout their city.
Or perhaps her father was on top of their roof again, shaking his fist angrily at the planes flying overhead, as if his anger could somehow stop the orders that the pilots were acting on. It wouldn't be the first time. He was fed up with it, they all were.
She paid no attention to the voices that pleaded with her to turn around, all she could see was the plume of black smoke continuing to rise towards the heavens from the same location her two youngest brothers waited on her to pick them up after school every day.
She grasped at her abaya, pulling it up as she leapt over a piece of twisted metal before turning down another narrow street as she finally neared her destination.
Her feet slowed from a run, to a jog, to a haggard walk, and then to a complete stop.
She felt her heart drop when she saw it. She reached out a hand towards the sight, fingers trembling and her eyes wide in disbelief. She no longer heard the explosions in the distance, the screams of those running to take cover, the whistling of bombs as they fell through the smoky air. All she could hear was her heartbeat in her ear.
In front of her, the front gates to the library where her two youngest brothers always waited for her, was nothing but blackened rubble, scorched earth, fire, and blood.
In that moment, she wished she had died with them. She wished that she could do something, anything. She wished she could resurrect the blood-soaked earth and plead with the angels of death on behalf of her two brothers.
But all she could do was fall to her knees, staring with wide eyes at the grotesque scene before her.
Omar and Laith, the two youngest of their family at ages five and seven, were gone.
The chirping of birds sounded like gongs ringing in my ear.
The sound, once beloved to be heard, was now utterly and completely obnoxious as my head pounded vigorously in one of the worst headaches I'd ever had. I groaned and rolled over atop my futon, wiping furiously at my eyes when I realized I had shed tears in my sleep.
I rolled onto my back, hair and limbs splayed out messily, and stared at the ceiling, face blank as I recalled the worst tragedy that I had ever lived through.
Or, the worst tragedy Lamees had lived through.
When the nightmares came, when the memories of my past life assaulted my mind as I slept, it became hard to maintain that degree of separation between my two lives that kept my sanity intact.
There were times I would wake up, expecting to hear the sounds of my mother in the kitchen mixing za'atar, listening to see if Marwah and Amal had started fighting yet over who got to use the bathroom first, a fight that Amal always won. I would listen eagerly to hear my father reciting Qur'an, or humming some of his favorite folk tunes while he tended to the garden he treasured so dearly. I would wait and listen for the blaring of the Athan from the minarets that were sprinkled throughout the city to alert the residents of Gaza City that it was time to pray.
And then I would hear the silence, open my eyes, and find my empty apartment, void of any life other than my own. No mother in the kitchen, no siblings fighting, no sweet recitations, no call to prayer, and nobody to see me cry.
I closed my eyes a brief moment, listening to the stifling silence, and exhaled lowly. I was alone, as I had been since the death of my grandfather.
And then, I heard my tea kettle whistle.
My eyes flew open in an instant.
I sat up slowly, blinking rapidly and staring in the direction of my closed bedroom door that led towards the open kitchen and living room space, wondering if perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me. But the high-pitched whistling of the kettle only grew louder, until it stopped, which could only mean that it had been removed from the heat.
I'm not alone.
Panic rose in my body, and my breathing began to quicken. I stumbled to my feet, knocking over a glass of water that had not been there when I first felt ill and decided to head to sleep early. I stared at the glass I had just sent water spilling from in shock. Somebody had placed it there for me.
My gaze turned then to the door of my bedroom, and a shadow I saw move just between the bottom of the wooden portal and the floorboards. I crept slowly towards the door, cracking it just enough to allow me to see into the room.
A man sat at my table, his back to me, with two cups of tea steaming on top of the surface.
I reeled backwards, fear overwhelming my mind.
What to say? What to do? Do I run? Hide? Scream? Who was he? I had certainly never seen him before, and what was more, he was wearing combat gear. There was a blade attached to his back.
Is he here to kill me?
I froze, my hand coming up to my mouth to keep the sound of my quickened breathing inside and unheard.
A ninja. There's a ninja in my kitchen.
It was a thought I couldn't quite comprehend. My mind was rushing towards any and all worse-case scenarios, ones that involved my being exposed or tortured to death for information. I couldn't move, my body rooted to the spot as my thoughts ran wildly.
"Come drink the tea before it gets cold. We've got a lot to talk about." The low baritone of the intruder's voice carried a confident edge to it, one that sounded cocky.
I retracted my hand from the doorknob as if I had just been electrocuted. My stomach churned as my anxiety soared, the feeling leaving me somewhat light-headed as a result.
I think I'm going to be sick.
"I'm a bit short on time." The voice added, though the cockiness had lifted somewhat when he spoke again. "I promise it's not poisoned! It'll probably make you feel better, that was one nasty fever you had."
Can I run? No, no way, he's obviously a shinobi, I couldn't outrun him even if I wasn't sick. What in the world is going on?
I made up my mind then when it became clear I had little say in the matter, reaching back out towards the doorknob, and turning it so that I was able to step out into the living room. He didn't move a muscle as I approached from behind, only glancing at me from the corner of his eyes when I came into view and rounded the table with shuffling and unbalanced steps.
An Inuzuka, I recognized subconsciously, his facial tattoos giving away his heritage in an instant. Messy brown hair, a lopsided and sharp-toothed smirk, and dark eyes that seemed to see straight through me and into my very soul were what greeted me.
I didn't miss the tattoo on his forearm that revealed his line of work.
ANBU Black-Ops.
"Why don't you sit down and rest, you don't look so great." He recommended upon seeing how pale I had become, and my body moved on instinct, seeming to recognize that I held no power whatsoever in this situation.
I complied immediately, sinking to the floor seating and shaking like a leaf as I sat across from him at the low table. It had to be a dream, I was sure of it. I could think of no better explanation for what was currently happening.
"Drink the tea, I picked up some herbal medicine yesterday that will help with the fever."
I only gazed at the amber colored liquid that sit steaming in the cup that had been placed in front of me, but I couldn't find the strength to lift my arm and comply. I was frozen like a deer in the headlights.
"W-Wh-Who are-" I couldn't even speak properly as I shrank under his gaze, glancing at the sword he had strapped to his back with an impending sense of horror.
"Inuzuka Kyohei." He replied casually, as if his name somehow answered all the questions inside my mind. In fact, it answered very few questions whatsoever.
He eyed me a moment longer, gaze honing in on pale cheeks and shaking hands, and gave a small smile that looked out of place on his face. I supposed he had meant for it to be encouraging or reassuring – it was not, but his next action was, if only somewhat.
He reached across the table slowly, seeming to know how jumpy I was, and grasped my tea cup to bring it to his lips before taking a slow sip. I watched him in suspicion and waited to see the muscles of his throat contract in a way that signified he had actually swallowed the liquid. He set the cup back down in front of me, keeping eye contact the entire time.
"It doesn't taste very good, but I promise it's not poisoned. It's a mix of Tulsi and Neem. It'll help break your fever."
He sounded genuine, at least. And he had sipped from the cup himself. The logical part of my mind reiterated the fact that he was a ninja, and could easily have some sort of hidden antidote, but something in my heart told me he spoke the truth.
What was more, I truly did need the medicine. My body still felt hot, a sign that the fever had gone down but not broken, and my head pounded as if a calvary of horses were stampeding through it.
My hand trembled violently as I grasped at the small cup of traditional tea china, the hot, herbal liquid sloshing as I lifted it to my lips and took a cautious sip when I decided to take my chances.
It was bitter, but I recognized the taste as a medicine that helped to cool the body and regulate a fever. Tulsi leaves and Neem root, he hadn't been lying. Tulsi leaves had a pleasant and earthy taste to them, but it was Neem root that spoiled the taste with its bitter brew.
"Good girl." He praised happily, as if speaking to a dog. I stared at him in open astonishment at his words before I remembered which clan he had come from. "Make sure to finish it, you still look like a bit too pale. Now, let's get down to business, shall we?"
Business?
I couldn't think straight, nothing about what was happening here was making sense. I had just awoken from a terrible fever to find a strange man offering me medicine inside my own apartment, and my mind still felt foggy from the heat my body had endured.
I was still scared, yes, but confusion was the dominating sentiment out of all of what was swarming violently in my chest.
"What's your name?"
My name? What in the world is he getting at?
"Sasaki Mari-" I began, only to be cut off immediately with a sentence that changed everything.
I felt time begin to slow when he spoke his next demand aloud, as if the entire universe had stopped spinning in that exact moment to come to a halt when he opened his mouth again.
"No, not that name. What was your name before?"
I reeled, my mind spinning as I felt my heart leaping into my throat. A nightmare, it had to be a nightmare. But how could it? I had just awoken from one.
I struggled to keep my face straight as I answered.
"W-what kind of question is that?" I stuttered in confusion and a rising sense of panic. "I'm Kimari, I sell vegetables, I'm a loyal citizen of Konohagakure-"
"Yeah, and I'm the Daimyo of Hi no Kuni." He only cocked an eyebrow along with his sarcastic comment, seemingly unimpressed at the bland recitation of the role I had been playing for the last two decades.
Danger, the only rational thought I was currently processing. I was in danger. I'd been found out somehow, I was sure of it. And now? Now what?
Would I be dragged off to T&I, tortured until I revealed something that sounded so ludicrous I doubted they would believe it? Would I be used for information if they did believe me? Or would they just allow a Yamanaka to turn my mind to mush? What would people like Shimura Danzo do if they found out I knew the secrets of this universe?
Am I going to die?
My eyes searched my apartment wildly, for any sort of weapon or means of escape as my panic continued to escalate. It was then that I noticed the paper tags on my walls. Some sort of fuinjutsu, from the look of it. The air buzzed with tension as I floundered.
"Look, I know this is a lot to take in, but let's just take this slow, you're still healing-"
"Please don't kill me!" I interrupted in a pathetic blubbering voice, bursting into terrified tears.
I wasn't strong, not emotionally and not physically. And I had reached my limit of what my heart could handle. I was scared.
He choked on air, looking a fine mix of complete shock, exasperation, mild amusement, and sympathy for what I must be feeling.
"Kill you? No – I – that's not why I'm here!" He was beginning to sound flustered as I continued to cry.
My hands were covering my face as I sat there, with tangled hair and rumpled sleeping clothes and a body that shook so terribly I couldn't seem to feel anything else. I didn't look up when I heard him stand as well, rounding the table to eventually come and stand before me.
"There's no need to cry! I promise I'll explain everything!" He was starting to sound a bit panicked now, though I could not see him after having buried my face in my hands, ensured that my end was now near. "Just – uh – take some deep breaths!"
I heard the shifting of clothing next as he sat down on the floor with me, and I dared to peek through my fingers to find that he was now sitting with his legs crossed, right next to me and much to close for comfort.
"Geez, just calm down, okay? I promise you're safe." His voice was softer now, though it sounded as if he were extremely uncomfortable at the sight of a crying woman and remained unsure of how to handle the situation. "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm here to help you. I probably should have said that at the beginning, huh? Sorry about that."
He's here to help me? No, this has to be some sort of trick. They want me to admit it myself, that must be it.
"I don't believe you. I'm just Kimari, please, I'm loyal to the village!" My tone was desperate between shuddering breaths. Salty liquid continued to stream down my cheeks.
Another sigh and a frown from the ninja sitting casually on the floor with me.
"Look, I've already betrayed this village to keep your secret safe. The Hokage asked me to watch you, and I lied in my reports. I could be executed for this." He admitted, the low baritone of his voice rumbling as he spoke. I looked up as he continued, startled by the information. "You can trust me."
"How?" I mumbled quietly, pushing long and tangled hair from my face to tuck it behind my ear with shaking hands. "How do I know I can trust you?"
A pregnant pause stretched between us. When he finally spoke, my world came crashing down.
"Because my name was Ivan Pavlovich Mikhailov, and I'm the same as you. You're not alone anymore."
I blinked.
Once. Twice. And then again.
His name was? As in past tense? But that could only mean one thing.
"Let's just take things slow, you can drink your medicine, and we can speak. I don't want to stay here too long, at least this time around."
"Why?" Was the only question I could manage at the moment. He replied immediately, no doubt relieved that my tears had stopped flowing.
"The Hokage deemed you safe for Naruto to be around and the observation was called off a few days ago, I've been nursing you to health since then, but I want to wait at least a week before anybody sees us together so I don't get suspended from duty for overstepping any boundaries. But for now, let's just chat, can you handle that? We can wait if you'd like."
I gave a mute nod, bobbing my head up and down dumbly as he stood to go take his seat at the other side the table. My mind was spinning as he took his seat across from me once more, grumbling about how the low height of my traditional floor seating was too short for his long legs.
When we were once again seated and I was wiping my face with the sleeves of my sleeping clothes, he gave a pointed look towards the tea in front of me. I lifted it obediently with a small sniffle, taking a much longer sip and grimacing at the taste of the herbal medicine mixed in with the tea. He waited until I set the cup back down to speak.
"Alright, I'm sure you have a lot of questions. I do too. But let's start with your name, yeah?" It seemed he had realized that his harsh demeanor from earlier had been too much, because I could now tell he was giving his best attempt at trying to sound reassuring.
It wasn't working.
I took a deep inhalation, closing my eyes and counting to five before letting it out. As I exhaled, my mind now made up, I met his gaze when I allowed my lids to flutter open again.
"Lamees. Lamees Halabi."
A grin stretched over his face, and he gave a sharp nod in return to the information requested of me.
"Which country were you from?" Was his next question, voiced after a moment of silence between us.
The conversation that was occurring in this very moment should have been impossible, and I felt myself beginning to feel somewhat distant from the situation at hand, as if unable to believe or swallow the fact that the shinobi sitting across from me and sipping at tea was also like me.
"Palestine, I suppose." I answered breathlessly after another silent moment, my voice hardly above a whisper.
"You suppose? Was it Gaza or the West Bank?" His eyes were alight as he questioned me in terms of geography that no ordinary citizen of Konoha should have been able to know.
By Allah, it's really true. He's the same as me.
It was so strange. The entire event felt surreal, as if I was only watching the events play out but not truly present myself. Perhaps I was still lucid and dreaming, but somehow, I doubted it.
"Gaza, the autonomous regions. It wasn't technically a country, so I'm not sure if that counts." My voice sounded far away, as if I were many kilometers from where I now sat.
"Gaza, huh?" He pondered aloud to himself in wonder, before focusing back on the information I had just provided him. "Probably had a rough time of it then, yeah?"
A rough time?
I thought back to the border closures, the walls and buffer zones built around our territory to keep us from being able to exit or enter the land that surrounded us. We couldn't have run away as refugees even if we wanted to. We'd been pushed out of our homes and out of a land that had once been ours.
I thought of living stateless, no passports and no guarantee of basic human rights the result of it, of being denied citizenship. I thought of the bombs and air strikes, of the air and sea blockade that kept us trapped there and blocking off access to foreign trade and economic prosperity.
I thought of the day one of the air strikes had hit the school where my brothers studied that had been turned into a shelter, and the millions of other innocent civilians on both sides of the conflict who had been caught up in a war that they had no real part in.
Suddenly, I felt tired.
"Yeah, I guess we did." I only answered vaguely, unable to relate to him the memory of living in such a way. And yet, I would have given anything to return to that life, to see my family just one more time. "Where were you from?" I questioned, eager to direct his attention to himself and provide myself the reassurance I needed.
I was sure I had about as many questions for him as he did for me, assuming this was all real and actually transpiring. I was still slightly skeptical of that fact.
I glanced up, noting a faraway look in his gaze. After a moment of what I assumed to be a brief period reminiscing, he answered.
"Russia, St. Petersburg, to be specific."
No, it had to be real. This was all actually happening. I brought my hands back up to my head again, burying my face from view.
"I'm sorry, this is all too much…"
"Ha! Believe me, I get you." He barked a loud laugh.
A thought suddenly occurred to me, and I scrutinized his face carefully when I asked my next question. He had left out one vital piece of information. I let my hands return to rest in my lap as I spoke.
"How did you find out? I was so careful, I did everything right, this shouldn't be happening right now."
His smug little grin stretched a bit further, which left me feeling slightly irritated with him.
"And by doing 'everything right', does that include moving in next door to Uzumaki Naruto or am I mistaken? Because I may not specialize in infiltration, but that doesn't exactly sound like low-profile to me, love." His tone was a bit cocky, but I could tell he was only joking with me.
My cheeks still reddened at his words, joke or not.
"I know it's not ideal, but until that point I was doing well." I returned in my defense, looking to the side in embarrassment. He was right, of course, I was fully aware of that fact.
"Not ideal?" He laughed this time, amusement shining in his eyes. "The Hokage launched an investigation on you, I've been watching you for nearly two months now. Thank Kami that's over, do you have any idea how boring your life is?"
"Please answer my question." My voice was tight.
He didn't joke this time, though his tone still sounded lighter.
"You were lucid and dreaming, speaking Arabic, I think. Was my guess right? Was it Arabic? I suppose it makes sense if you came from Palestine."
"If you recall correctly, I was asleep, so I can't be sure." I replied dryly.
"Oh ho! Is that sarcasm?" He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest eyes he eyed me in delight before answering. "The military put me through a few months of linguistics training before my deployment for counterterrorism operations. Arabic was one of the language courses, but it wasn't the main focus. So, was I right?"
A soldier in his past life? It suits his personality. I guess it makes sense he would choose the path of a shinobi in his next life, that doesn't surprise me at all.
"It was probably Arabic. I speak Hebrew and a little English too, but I doubt that was what you heard." I finally relented. I had only ever spoken Hebrew when somebody else didn't speak Arabic, as a default language that held common ground in those lands. Much like English in many areas of the world, and I'd only began studying English to have a better chance at getting a good education somewhere else.
He nodded, but did not speak again. A length of silence stretched between us, the air brimming with tension that was almost tangible.
"And now? What happens now?" My question was terse, my tone strained from the stress of the situation.
"I was hoping you could tell me."
I let my eyes drift to his, looking at him strangely as his gaze bored into mine with a type of intensity that seemed to burn through my skin. His attitude had lost its playful edge, and this time, I could tell he spoke in all seriousness, no jokes or nonchalance to be found.
"Do you know?" He asked quietly, piercing eyes searching my own. "Do you know why we're here?"
I looked down, my face blank and mind numb when he voiced that horrible question aloud to me. The fact that he was asking me made it clear that he was unaware of the answer to that question himself. It seemed he was just confused as I was in this regard.
Things had changed, that much was certain, but I was still just as lost as before, still uncertain of my continued existence. It was a horrible feeling, to continue living on without any knowledge of purpose of why you were here. An existence without substance or a reason to keep on going was an existence that oftentimes felt meaningless.
But at least I wasn't alone anymore. There was someone else, someone who knew.
"I don't, I'm sorry."
Silence.
I didn't need to look up to sense the disappointment seeping from him.
"Don't worry your pretty little head about it." He mumbled after a few moments of dejected silence. "It was a long shot, anyways. Look, I've got to go now, but I'll be back tomorrow. There's medicine in your pantry, and if it's not gone when I get back you'll Dr. Kyohei to deal with. See, ya later, Kimari-chan." And suddenly, the cocky attitude was back, along with that smirk on his face.
He stood, twisting his torso to the right and left to let his spine release a few loud cracks as he stretched.
"Oh, and don't touch the privacy seals I put up, I'm shit at fuinjutsu so they may not be stable."
And then he was gone, disappeared into thin air faster than it took me to blink in shock. A Shunshin, I registered vaguely. I had never seen it performed in such proximity. The air swirled where he had just stood.
I slumped where I sat, allowing my shoulders to sag as I fell into a very unladylike posture. My mind was spinning faster than I was able to keep up with, thousands of questions swarming like angry bees within my head, buzzing furiously and demanding answers that I didn't have.
My body moved on its own, as if on autopilot, doing as Kyohei had instructed and sipping at the foul medicinal tea. My body was numb, and my head felt both empty and ready to burst at the same time.
Out of the millions of thoughts swirling in my head, however, there was one thought that kept surfacing, taking priority over all the other questions and my rational thought process:
I'm not alone anymore. There's someone else, someone who knows how it is to live like this, someone I can trust and speak freely in front of…or at least, I hope I can trust him.
I spent a few moments wondering if this could have all been some elaborate ploy to prompt a confession from me, but that thought in itself was disproven by the fact that he had proven to me that he had indeed come from the same world I had.
How else would somebody know the names of the countries we had discussed. He had told me he was from Russia originally, even naming the city that I recalled learning about from my high school days in my past life, and there was no way he could have known those names or that specific geography without having lived it.
He had even known about the conflict and war in my homeland without me needing to tell him it existed.
And I wasn't a ninja by any means, but the raw emotion of hope and desperation swirling in the depths of his eyes when he'd asked if I knew why we were both here, existing when we shouldn't have, was something I had not missed. His emotion was genuine, I felt positive of that fact.
No, he was the same as me.
That cocky Inuzuka had once come from the same world I had. Although, judging by the eight-year age difference between us, we had both been pulled from one world and unceremoniously dumped into another at different times.
Neither of us had any clue why we were here, what had brought us here, what we needed to do, or what fate awaited us in this strange new world.
And perhaps we would never know the answers to any of those questions. Even so, my heart felt warmer than it had in years. It felt good to know I was no longer on my own for this confusing journey of the second chance at life I'd been awarded for reasons unbeknownst to me.
A darker thought entered my mind then.
I shouldn't be too quick to trust. He may have proven his origins as similar to mine, but it was the intentions that truly mattered at the end of the day. And I didn't know what his intentions were.
Although, I argued with myself, he had essentially betrayed the village by choosing to keep this information from the Hokage. And he was correct, that treason would warrant a death sentence for him if he was discovered. What was more, he had nursed me back to health from my state of fever and illness when he hadn't needed to. Even if he wanted to know if I held the answer to why we were here, it would have been easier to let the information of our previous world die with me, it would have been safer for him.
Inuzuka Kyohei had proven that he was an ally to me through his series of grave choices.
Foul mouth, lack of proper manners, cocky attitude, and an infuriating smirk aside, he seemed like a good person at heart based off of our brief interactions together.
Although…
My eyes drifted to the sloppy looking privacy seals he had plastered upon my walls, and I remembered his warning to leave them be. 'They may not be stable' he'd said. I wondered, just how bad he was at fuinjutsu if he had needed to give me such a warning.
I knew next to nothing about that art in particular, and I eyed the tags nervously. What had he meant by 'not stable'? They wouldn't start a house fire or explode or something, would they?
The hairs on the back of my neck rose at the thought.
I finished the tea and set it back down on the low table with a small 'clink'. Out of both a need to clean up my appearance and a desire to put more distance between myself and those strange tags, I decided a bath was in order.
In little more than minutes I was sinking my tired body, still weak from the fever, into the steaming waters that filled my circular, wooden tub. The hot water licked at my skin, relaxing muscles I hadn't realized had been so tense, and soothing my thoughts and inner turmoil.
I let my long locks dip into the water as well, the hair was in need of a thorough wash, but for now I just let it swirl around in the bathwater as I relaxed into the inviting heat.
I contemplated this change in events as I trailed a hand delicately over the surface of the water, creating ripples and disrupting surface tension. My head was leaning against the side of the tub while I hummed absentmindedly to myself.
I had thought my troubles only began after finding out my neighbor was the Jinchuuriki I was so desperately intent on avoiding, but I could see now I had been wrong, oh so very wrong. It seemed as if my troubles were only beginning.
But for the first time in what felt like years, I felt something blossoming in my chest, its vines creeping over my heart and slowly spreading to the rest of my very soul. It was a feeling I hadn't believed existed anymore, not until this very moment, when I realized I was no longer alone and just one small step closer to discovering the truth of my purpose here.
I felt hope.
.
.
A/N Part 2 – cultural/language note
*Za'atar – Spice blend used for cooking, baking, and mixing with olive oil to dip bread into. Common on any Palestinian table. Freaking delicious.
*Athan – the Islamic call to prayer that comes five times a day to remind followers to stop what they are doing and pray.
*Abaya – Looser, Islamic-style dress worn by many, but not all, Muslim women. They are super comfy, and allow you to wear your pajamas underneath them without anyone knowing. Not that I've done that before or anything…