Author's Notes: I know it's been a long time since I've posted anything for this fic. This one's not as easy-coming as others as of now, and I've been working on other stories plus some real-life events, etc. I hope to get back into action with Yuugao's tale, however.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and am making no profit from this fan fiction.
Turn of Blade, Twist of Fate
Chapter Nine:
By Nessie
A year and a half after the slaughtering of the Uchiha clan, the office had long since settled down, the investigation having named Itachi as the sole offender of the incident. There was still tension within the organization and the Hokage's personal staff. The lack of foresight had caused a rift between fellows that almost couldn't be breached even after so much time. Many blamed themselves for the loss of so admired a family, including Morino Ibiki who had worked the most with Itachi, a single player, even though they had not been close on any level beside mission assignments and subsequent reports.
Ibiki's promotion had resulted in the vast, swift improvement of ANBU on the whole, and by now Yuugao and Hayate knew what their involvement in the Black Ops truly meant. After a week long mission with Kakashi at the border between Fire and Grass, during a skirmish that broke out between some traveling missing-nin originally from the Land of the Waterfall, the two had some downtime before their next assignment.
They chose a cool, rainy day to do some training on the sloped training grounds to see how they fared in the adverse conditions of slippery, uneven ground. They had done battle in just this way at the border, and while there had been no casualties, Yuugao had come very close to suffocation by a wind-type kunoichi whose weapon of preference was a ribbon of silk reinforced by a chain lining. Her weak footing in the rain who restricted her ability to dodge and angle herself for a proper defense. Only the interference of one of Kakashi's ninja dogs had prevented her untimely victimization (a word she found distasteful but used nonetheless).
Likewise, Hayate had faced a shinobi who used no weapon but had a jutsu that restrained the movements of his upper torso much like the shadow binding technique of the Nara clan, although this jutsu had utilized the malleable earth instead. Hayate's sword had been rendered useless in his immobilized arm, but the opposing shinobi's clumsiness had him slipping in the dirt and canceling the jutsu from impact with the ground. Hayate had pinned him for Kakashi to force him into obedience with genjutsu.
As a team, the three of them worked better together now. Hayate and Yuugao were able to more easily predict Kakashi's strategies, and Kakashi understood their weaknesses and strengths enough to pair them with the opponents whose skills would be most advantageous to them in seeking victory. It was only a matter of time before they would be able to strike out on their own for solo missions or assignments with ninja chosen for them by the higher-ups.
Still, Kakashi's two teammates agreed that training was still quite necessary. Thus, they could be found that day dueling, Hayate with his sword, Yuugao with a primitive bow and arrow. Hayate sported a wound from his battle, mostly healed thanks to the ministrations of the Konoha medical team, but Yuugao was mindful to execute attacks that wouldn't cause strain on his injured left arm.
They raced up and slid down the long length of hill, Yuugao loosing dull-tipped arrows which Hayate deflected with his sword before making deft attempts at touching her with the reverse side of the blade. The two of them had grown so skilled at fighting each other's types of talent that training between them was quickly growing obsolete; hence Yuugao's reversion to simpler weapons, a bid to catch Hayate off-guard. The chance failed, however, as her friend was as good as ever at sparring with her.
Of course, there had to be a winner. Their scores were often equal, one of them taking the lead in matches by only one or sessions before the other would come back with just as many wins. Today, by the way Yuugao struggled somewhat with balancing herself on the rain-slick grass and the muscle use required to draw the bow, Hayate would come out on top. Her speed of nocking the arrows and the resulting target hit was no less accurate but fell just short of perfect. That was all Hayate needed. When a particularly vicious curtain of silver rain swept between them in the gray afternoon light, Yuugao's eyesight was hindered just enough for her to take an extra moment to acquire her target. In that moment, Hayate went up on his heels and slid down the hill to where she was positioned at the bottom, resting the flat of his sword on her right shoulder, tense from her pull on the bow. The water level was high enough at the foot of the slope, however, that the slight pressure he exerted on his sparring was enough to send him off balance, and they both went tumbling down, arrows scattering. Hayate's sword gauged out some moist dirt and sent it flying over the grass from where he'd let go of it as not to risk scratching her.
On the ground, the two were a tangle of limbs, one of Yuugao legs thrown over both of his (she had foolishly tried to remain upright by grabbing him) while Hayate's right arm was caught beneath her left and his left pinned her right.
It was awkward, embarrassing for him, even a little frightening for her. The position reminded her far too much of one she had been in years ago, before knowing Hayate, before her hair was long, before she had ever been on a real mission. Those variables were a few of the reasons she did not panic and demand he get off of her instantly. Another was that Hayate was out of breath and wheezing. The most important one was that, despite the sudden emergence of the unwelcome memory, Yuugao did not feel unsafe at this proximity with Hayate. In fact, after the initial wave of remembrance faded, she felt warmed by him, protected.
Hayate stared down at her, how her deep purple hair, almost black in the rain, was fanned out over the grass and his wrist, how her eyes widened for only a moment before relaxing once more. When he shifted slightly, his lips parting to no doubt utter a hasty apology for knocking her down, Yuugao lifted her head and caught his mouth with hers. Both of them froze for a moment. Her eyes were closed, but Yuugao felt the tension in his chest against her own, the signal of his agitation and prepared to pull away if he needed to cough, but startlingly the tension dissipated, and it didn't take Hayate long at all to respond. She lowered her head back to the grass, Hayate's lips slanted over hers, and she inhaled sharply through her nose when his hand clutched in her hair.
They broke apart, and the stare resumed. Shortly, Hayate began to smile. "Well," he stated softly, "that took long enough."
If she was a blushing sort of woman, she would have turned as red as the markings on their ANBU masks (conveniently left at home today). Instead, she merely sighed and sat up. She would be twenty years old in only a handful of months, and she had only just shared her first real kiss. Both their bodies were now slick with mud, grass sticking to them. They remained sitting, side by side, on the grass for two, silent minutes before Yuugao intoned, "I want you to know about something."
The way she worded the desire made him nod in understanding. "But you don't want to tell me yourself?" said Hayate.
Yuugao hardly noticed it when she joined their hands and ran a thumb over the back of his. "I'm going to go home and clean up. Go to the office of medical records and ask for my file." Reaching behind her, she pulled a kunai from her belt, the handle bearing her the characters for Uzuki. "As my teammate, you shouldn't have any problems, but if you do, show this to them so that they'll give it to you. Read the statement of my psychological assessment from seven years ago."
Her friend watched her unflinchingly, swallowing a cough so as not to ruin the solemnity of the moment. "What will I find there?"
Yuugao looked away from him, uncertainty flaring in her mind even as she handed him the kunai. "My secret."
---
The rapping on her door at ten o' clock that evening did not entirely surprise her, although Yuugao had been eighty-three percent sure she would not hear from Hayate until the next day. When she opened the door to him, she noted his laborious breathing (had he run all the way from the hospital office?), the way his breath caught on each exhale. The circles under his eyes appeared more defined, although it could have only been the scant lighting in her entryway; it had been long enough since the shinobi had used Dance of the Crescent Moon that his health was better than usual.
"Hayate," she murmured, eyebrows drawn together in a discreet blend of concern and nervous anticipation, "are you—"
Hayate entered too swiftly for her to complete the question. With one hand, he took her by the shoulder while the other slammed the door shut behind him before bringing it to her back to pull her close to him. She stood rooted for several moments, unsure of what she should do, while he buried his face in her shoulder. Her cheek was pressed to his chest, her face turned toward his. The end of her nose lightly brushed his neck, and she was overpowered by the clean scent of him. She deduced that he'd showered before going to look at her file.
After a while of tensely standing there, Yuugao lifted her hands to settle them beneath his shoulder blades. At last, he managed to say, "I read the whole thing. I couldn't help myself, Yuugao. That you...that something like that happened to you..."
She wished he would stop talking. She dealt poorly with pity and grief, and he knew that. Unwittingly, her grip tightened against him. "I'm fine," she assured him. "I have...risen above that." Yuugao wanted to say that what Hiroshi had done to her was nothing compared to Rin's death years later, but she couldn't manage the words.
"I know," murmured Hayate, his voice muffled by the skin of her neck. He seemed not to notice that she wore a plain sleeping yukata, having dressed for bed minutes before his arrival. "I know." He seemed enthralled by the word, as though knowing so much about her was something Hayate had never expected.
The nearness to him, as before, started a warmth inside her. This time, though, the warmth strengthened to a pyre. He must have sensed something, because her friend readjusted his position and crushed his lips to hers, overcome by too much feeling.
She wanted closeness. She wanted it so much that it intimidated her, mostly because she never had longed for it before. Yuugao felt moved by someone else, unused to giving in to personal desire. Her plan had always been to live the life of the ultimate ninja, devoid of emotion because emotion was a woman's possession. But she was starting to realize by the force of Hayate's response to her history that emotion was actually a human's emotion, and she was not fool enough to think that she could ever stop being human.
She reached for the cap in which he wore his forehead protector and pulled it from his head. Thick hair fell around her fingers; Yuugao sometimes forgot what he looked like without it on. He gave a surprised jerk when she gripped the front of his shirt between the open Jounin vest he had recently taken to wearing when not in ANBU uniform, but he didn't stop kissing her. It was only when he was bare-chested and noticed her reaching for the tie of her yukata that he opened his eyes and lightly touched her wrist.
"Yuugao," he said, making absolutely sure that she was meeting him gaze for gaze and hearing him, "do you trust me this much?"
He clearly thought she was still scarred, Yuugao thought, and maybe she was. But she had already endured so much and had accomplished many of her goals. It was time to reward herself a little while overcoming a challenge of a different kind.
Pressing a hand to his cheek, relishing the way he watched her – so genuinely caring – Yuugao whispered back. "I trust you the most."
The pause lingered, but then Hayate moved toward her again, the heat of his abruptly fevered body meeting with hers. The yukata fell to the floor, and they soon left it behind.
---
The following morning, waking in a thoroughly rumpled bed, Yuugao realized that she had learned something important: Hayate's cough fully disappeared when they made love.
She couldn't say for sure if the surge of endorphins soothed his condition or if he was simply too preoccupied to be physically agitated, but the fact was a high plus in her book and his. He turned toward her, not surprised to find her already awake. She studied the wild state of his hair, remembering how she had caused that.
Forgoing a good-morning, Yuugao said, "We're supposed to meet Kakashi-senpai in half an hour."
Hayate took a deep breath, absently tracing his fingertip over the pattern of her ANBU tattoo. The reminder did not appear to significantly bother him. "He's always late. We might as well be, too."
Her lips quirked at that, and she did not even tighten her jaw when he moved to hover over her, but a small sound did work its way from her throat way he promptly flipped them so that she was balanced on top of him. Seeing him that way, so close to her, made Yuugao feel as young as she was for the first time since making friends with Rin. And now, also for the first time since she had witnessed Rin's death, she felt truly comforted.
It helped that she was sure what Rin's reaction would have been to this sudden change in relationship status: a full blown, head-thrown-back cackle of laughter over a triumphant I knew it!
"Are you all right?" asked Hayate.
She replied by leaning forward and kissing him slowly. His dark eyes were hazy when she next opened her eyes to see them.
"I suppose that means yes," he noted appreciatively.
To Be Continued
