Ahhh, man, my head really hurt. Come to think of it, so did my back. And my legs. And my arm. I just hurt in general. Thankfully, someone had had the good sense to lie me on my stomach, which seemed to be the only part of my body that wasn't throbbing in pain at the moment.
"…could always tell her…tree fell…lightning storm…"
That sounded like Tsunade, but her voice kept fading in and out.
"She's not stupid. She's going to figure it out sooner or later. Why not just get it out of the way now?" That would be Shikamaru, who sounded surprisingly close.
A rather tense silence followed their little exchange, and I'm assuming neither one of them was used to being questioned or challenged.
"Why were they after her anyway?" Kiba's booming voice cut through the oppressive silence that had descended after Shikamaru and Tsunade's little exchange. The sound of rustling paper reached my ears and I heard Kiba let out a low whistle. "That's a lot of zeros."
A low rumble sounded from outside and I would have started up in alarm had a warm, restraining hand not placed itself on my arm. The jolt that that simple touch sent through me was even more alarming than hearing my motorcycle purring outside. Before my thoughts could progress anywhere beyond noticing how rough with calluses his hands were, Tsunade's voice interrupted again.
"We can't risk word of this getting out to the population, especially the local police forces. That would only make things worse than they already are. We'll only tell her if her safety hinges upon her knowing the full scope of the situation. Until then, make sure one of our people is always with her. She can't be roaming around by herself anymore. Shikamaru, watch her while I go try to straighten some things out and bring her to my office when she wakes up."
I heard a door close, accompanied by two fading sets of footsteps, and soon the only sound in the room was the soft, even breathing coming from beside me. I ventured opening my eyes the tiniest bit and saw Shikamaru sitting in a rather uncomfortable looking chair, his eyes focused on what looked like the daily paper. His hand was still resting on my arm, his thumb tracing light circles on my wrist.
"Shikamaru?" I finally ventured. No answer. He still appeared to be intently studying the newspaper. What in the world was so interesting in that paper! "Shikamaru, what's going on?"
He finally handed me the newspaper. The top of the paper proclaimed that it was the Tokyo Times, but unfortunately, that was the only part of the paper that was in English. The rest of the page was covered in small characters that I had no hope of translating, even with the minimal amount of Japanese I had begun to pick up. That wasn't what caught my attention, however. I let out a small gasp as the focal point of the page caught my eye. "That's me!" I exclaimed, referring to the large, color picture that was blocked in by the text. Sure enough, there I was, intently playing my violin in Hakase-sensei's studio.
"What does the article say?" I queried, handing it back to Shikamaru and wondering how this was supposed to answer my previous question.
"Hailing from the United States of America, Arista Burana is being lauded as the next up and coming violin virtuoso," Shikamaru read. "At the age of sixteen, Burana placed first in the U.S. National Violin Competition and has been on the rise since then. Now eighteen, she has moved to Japan to study under the tutelage of world-renowned violinist Hakase Taro in preparation for the Stradivarius International Violin Competition to be hosted in Japan in 2011. Adding to the building anticipation about Burana's appearance at the festival is the excitement of violin enthusiasts world-wide to both see and hear her prized violin. Burana plays on an antique Stradivarius violin, handmade by the famed Antonio Stradivari at the height of his career. The rare violin, made over 300 years ago, plays as beautifully in this talented young woman's hands as it did the day it was made. The instrument bears the maker's original stamp and is valued at approximately 304,231,471.62 JPY." He looked up from the paper and locked onto my eyes. "That converts to about 3.2 million U.S. dollars, in case you were wondering. The rest of the article goes on like that. It's no wonder you're a prime kidnapping victim. Whoever put stuff like this in the paper is just asking for trouble."
"Kidnapping? Why would someone be trying to kidnap me?!" I cried, earning myself a glare from Shikamaru for raising my voice.
"You're just proving Tsunade's point by freaking out," he admonished. "Calm down and think about it logically. You're the United States' claim to fame in the violin world at the moment. But, now that you're studying in Japan, odds are better than even that Japan would lay claims to you as well if you won. Whoever is after you realizes this as well, and is banking on both countries vying for you if you disappear. The fact that you come with a 3.2 million dollar violin just makes you all the more desirable." He brushed a strand of hair out of my face as he said that and I swear to god my face was so hot that I could have spontaneously combusted right then and there.
"W-what's going to happen to me?" I murmured after I had finally managed to compose myself.
"We're going to watch you twenty-four-seven." I made a face at this. "Within limits, of course," he added with a chuckle, catching the look of horror on my face. "Tsunade wanted to see you when you woke up, though, so we probably shouldn't keep her waiting any longer."
With that, I made my way to Tsunade's office, albeit with more than a little help from Shikamaru as I was still rather sore. Once we got there she fed me some convoluted story about how the guys had found me lying next to a broken tree in the park. Her best guess was that I got spooked by the lightning storm and happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when a tree fell. She said that I shouldn't expect to remember much of what had happened due to head trauma and to make sure I got plenty of rest over the next few days. Talk about an unbelievable story! But then again, I guess what really happened isn't any more believable.
Shikamaru and I drove home on my bike, which Sasuke had been kind (or perhaps crazy would be a better word) to drive back to school for me. It wasn't until I had parked in the garage and was getting ready to go inside that a thought struck me. "Won't Aunt Angie be concerned about why I'm coming home so late on a school night?"
"We already took care of that," he answered, leading me towards my window rather than the front door. "You'll see," he said in response to the quizzical look on my face. "Hang on tight." Before I knew what was happening, he had picked me up and placed me on his shoulders. "Just what do you think you're doi-" My voice stopped dead. We were walking up the side of my house. Well, to be more exact, he was walking up the side of my house while I hung on to him for dear life.
"Were you trying to give me a heart attack?!" I hissed once we had reached solid, carpeted ground. So intent was I upon accosting the young man that it took several moments for me to notice that we weren't alone. "Why are there two of me in my bedroom?" My pseudo-twin sat there grinning like a Cheshire cat, which looked quite bizarre on my face.
"You can go home now, Naruto." The other me disappeared in a puff of smoke only to be replaced by the energetic blonde sitting cross-legged on my floor.
"Pretty good impression, huh, Ritz?" he asked with a cheeky grin. "Your Aunt didn't even realize that you were gone!" A split second later and he had disappeared out the window.
"I suppose I should start to expect the unexpected now," I giggled, momentarily forgetting about the day's troubles.
"You really should get to sleep. You've had a rough day, and it's not going to be much better from here on out." Talk about a harsh reality check.
"I'm going, I'm going," I muttered, opening my door with pajamas in hand to get changed and wash up. I walked back into my room a few minutes later wearing my pajamas, toothbrush still dangling from between my lips as I lobbed my disgustingly dirty clothes in the hamper, and almost choked. "Why are you still in my room?!" I demanded. Well, that was what I attempted to say at least. The almost choking, paired with trying to talk around my toothbrush and toothpaste while trying to cover my rather skimpy nightwear made it sound considerably less intelligible. He just raised one of his eyebrows and made a face at me. Oh, how infuriating he could be! I stalked silently out of the room, still fuming, and headed for the bathroom. First things first. I grabbed a plush robe and cinched it securely around my waist. That accomplished, I rinsed off my toothbrush, spit out the now stinging toothpaste, and resolutely made my way back to my bedroom.
Sure enough, he was still there, looking quite comfortable stretched out on my window seat as he stared out the window. "Now, I will ask again. What are you still doing in my room?"
"Watching you," he said simply, turning his attention back to me.
"Creepy much?"
"Look," he said with a sigh, "I don't like this any more than you do. Do you really think I want to be giving up my precious sleep time to babysit you? I know it's a drag, but until we can work out something better, this is what it's going to have to be like."
"Well, fine…" I replied lamely, my annoyance fading as I realized just how tired he must really be. Sure, I had spent the better part of the day being pursued by crazy kidnappers, but he had spent that same time protecting me from those aforementioned baddies. In retrospect, I guess I really had to be grateful for him, even if he was somewhat lacking in the manners department. "Well…uhm…goodnight, I guess," I said rather awkwardly as I clambered into bed after carefully discarding my robe. He didn't deign to reply and when I looked over, he was back to staring out the window. Well geez! At least I had made the effort to be nice, I suppose that counts for something. It didn't take me too long to fall asleep; it had been a rather tiring day after all. And as odd as it sounds, the last thing I remember doing before I fell asleep was looking at my wrist and thinking that I could still feel him tracing those relaxing little circles with his thumb.
