Chapter 7: Hiroki: The First Mission
I don't know what Kakashi saw in me, but he was clever enough to know that I would not survive long in this world without friends. He made certain to provide for that by including me in Team 7 and leaving us alone together for hours while he saved kittens or helped old ladies.
As a shinobi, I was totally useless. I still couldn't throw a kunai straight or channel any chakra effectively, but Naruto always cheered with enthusiasm at any progress I made as if it were his own. Just for that, I was happy to have him around. I followed in training and in D-ranked missions. I felt like I was slowing them down and caused a lot of trouble, but they didn't seem to mind. I met regularly with Tsunade sama and Iruka sensei who gave a lot of their time to help me catch up with my teammates, but here again, I felt like a failure. The concepts were so foreign that I needed to be explained the same things over and over again stopping them for so many questions that we would forget what we were studying in the first place. They were incredibly patient with me, but I felt as if I did not belong there.
Kakashi was absent most of the time and, sometimes, when he looked at me, there was a strange and unreadable expression in his eyes that sent a shiver through my body. This made me feel even worse. I felt as if he was avoiding me as if I was not welcomed in his life anymore.
I knew his life was not really about saving kittens and helping old ladies. What he truly lived was worse and by far. Naruto and Sakura knew nothing about what happened during those side missions. In front of them, he was always strong and contained.
…but in front of me he didn't hide and let me see all of it; his weaknesses as well as his pain.
He would come back home covered in mud and blood, sometimes hunched over because of the pain of a new wound, sometimes totally silent with only his eyes speaking of the horrors he had seen. Most of the time, he would force a faint smile on his face to reassure me but sometimes he just didn't bother. I wondered if he let me see this because I already saw him so crushed at the citadel or if it was some kind of warning about what the life of a shinobi truly looked like… or maybe I was just part of the furniture now.
The last possibility hurt as much as it felt true.
I learned a lot from Sakura and Naruto while we waited for him. I was so bad at throwing kunai that Naruto joked that he was fearing for his life each time he saw a kunai near me. Of course, I instead claimed this as one of my obscure super powers saying that I was so bad that I could make people miss their target simply by standing beside them. I started to wonder if Kakashi wasn't letting the other two teach me so many things because he thought I was not even worth his time.
This is why when he told me I would be joining them on a C-ranked mission, I was terrified.
"Hiroki?"
His voice made me snap out of my thoughts.
"Hiroki? What is it? What's on your mind?"
I felt some kind of concern in his voice. He hadn't gone on mission today and had stayed home to prepare our first real assignment as team 7. He had been through all his weapons, sharpening his kunai, inspecting the various scrolls and explosive tags putting them neatly in the pockets of his vest. He had untangled chakra strings and checked all fasteners to make certain they closed tightly, but also opened smoothly. He never did that when we went on D-ranked missions. This one was different.
I was seated on the windowsill, looking at the heavy rain falling on Konoha trying to hide my feelings.
He came and sat on the ground in front of me and put his hand on mine. It had been such a long time I haven't seen him so nice to me. I felt a strange warmth building inside of me.
"Hiroki, tell me…"
I couldn't speak without my voice betraying me, so I stayed silent.
"It's the mission, isn't it?"
I looked down.
"Come… I'll make us some tea."
He held my hands and made me get up. I felt his palm gently press against my upper back leading me to the couch. I sat there, hands in my lap, watching him walk to the sink.
It was his ritual. I saw him do it with a few selected friends. He would always offer me a cup, but it was the first time he did it for me, for me alone.
As a ninja, he was never really into following ritualised ceremonials too tightly. Things like bushido were not meant for him. If his life or that of one of his comrade was on the line, backstabbing or tricking the enemy was as legitimate as face to face combat. This was reflected in the way he made tea. He did not follow rules but just made it as he felt was right.
The truth was I loved to look at him making tea. It always felt like something special. He looked totally calm, yet concentrated, revealing his shinobi nature through his ever precise gestures.
He brought a large jar of water and put it on the table waiting for it to cool down. Then, he went back to the kitchen and brought back two cups that he carefully placed on the table. They were like tiny artworks slightly crooked and imperfect but in a good way. He touched the jar with his hand with his hand checking the temperature – if the water was too warm, it would burn the delicate leaves. The water was still too hot.
He picked up his flak jacket from the table, hanging it on a hook near the door. He dropped his gloves and hitai-ate on the small table beneath it, then pulled up his sleeves over his elbows and came back caressing my hair before sitting in front of me. He was so different from what he looked like during the day when he showed off his own kind of professionalism consisting in a lazy attitude and a bored look. Now, that the soft silver hair fell in his face he looked almost like a teen. The deadly shinobi wasn't gone, but there was a fragility that wasn't apparent when he wore his whole outfit. His pale arms contrasted against the dark fabric of his shirt making them look more delicate while the square cut of the shirt itself gave the impression that it was a size too large unable to accommodate both his broad shoulder and his slim waist. It was always endearing to see him like that. It was as if the harsh shinobi life could give him a break sometimes.
He touched the jar again. The temperature was right. He squinted his eye a little and dropped the leaves in the water until he felt there was enough and carefully closed the bag before putting it away. The dried leaves spiralled down leaving behind them slight yellowish trails. He put the strainer on top of one of the cups and waited for the tea to be a rich golden colour
Then he took the jar and let the water pass through the strainer catching any leave that could fall in the cup. He tapped the strainer on top of the water jar and the leaves were released back into the water dancing in the warm liquid like little fish. He took one of the rugged cup carefully choosing what side he would present to me and put it in my hands. I felt the warmth of the tea inside it and it brought some comfort. I rose it in front of my chin smelling the rich aroma. I don't know why but I felt protected, as if there was a tiny wall between us.
"Hiroki, he said breaking the silence. Don't worry about the mission tomorrow. If you are coming with us it is because I feel you are ready." He said putting his hand on my shoulder.
How he could tell I was ready was a mystery. I failed so badly at everything I did that I was wondering if I would ever be any good at anything. I closed my eyes.
"You are not that far from the level Naruto had when he graduated from the academy. Like him, you just need to persevere… It will be alright."
I was useless. How could he think otherwise? It was obvious to me. It should be obvious to him too.
"I… I cannot fight…" I answered hesitantly.
"You can and you did. Trust me, you are a shinobi, everyone acknowledges it."
He closed the gap between us and looked at me in the eyes pushing the cup away from my face. I felt totally naked and powerless in front of him. There was a strength to his presence that was overwhelming, an assurance in all he said. It was the sensei speaking to me, the one who knew me better than myself, the one that saw all that I lacked and needed, the one that cared for me.
"I can't even use any weapon properly…" I said looking away from him again.
"Being a good shinobi is not about using weapons well or who knowing all the jutsu, it is about protecting and fighting for what you believe is important. You did that already and you did it better than a lot of shinobi I know. That day in the prison, you forgot about your fears and acted according to what you felt was right. When that kind of moment comes again, you will have the same strength, the same courage and the same resourcefulness you had on that day and you will be able to make a difference again."
His hand caressed the side of my face.
"But for now, we are only delivering a simple scroll to the Hidden Grass village, he said smiling. Remember, no one is asking you to fight on this mission. You just have to follow what I say and I'll make sure you are fine. Just trust me."
He looked at me. His eyes were soft, softer than I had seen them in weeks.
"I won't let anything happen to you."
::
We left early the next morning to meet Sakura and Naruto at the gates. Iruka had come to wish us luck on our mission. After the usual chat with Naruto and Sakura, Iruka turned to me.
"I came here to see you off, but there is also another reason."
He pulled a hitai-ate with the leaf symbol from his pockets.
"Tsunade sama and I talked together and we decided that you deserved the genin rank. Your chakra control is good enough and you have traits that far outweigh your inability to use jutsu or weapons efficiently."
Naruto giggled. I was certain he was still thinking of me trying to throw a kunai.
"Congratulation Hiroki. You are a shinobi now," Iruka said tying the hitai-ate in place over my forehead.
I felt a heaviness in my chest. I think he saw it too.
"Listen to your instincts and you'll be fine."
Naruto was ecstatic and jumped at me hugging me so strongly I almost chocked.
"Woah! Hiroki! Congratulation! You did it!"
Sakura and Kakashi also congratulated me while I recovered from Naruto's death-grip. Despite the laziness in his voice, I could see a small spark of pride in Kakashi's eyes.
After this, Iruka went to Kakashi and lightly punched him on the shoulder.
"Keep them safe, as usual."
"Maa, Iruka sensei, you know me. No need to worry," he answered his hand on the teacher's arm. There was the usual smile reaching his eye but I felt what was going on between them was way beyond that.
"Let's go!" Kakashi finally added.
The mission had begun.
::
Sorry, the chapter is very short and I stopped right before the action again. Those kinds of scenes are a bit tougher to write for me but it's slowly coming together and I am trying to finish the next chapter before the end of this week.
Thanks for reading! :o)
