Butterflies: Solidarity

"Namiki Aya has nothing and no one. No one to come home to. No one to hold her when she cries. No reason to get out of bed, other than the nightmares. Not until her someone barges back into her life and says three words that change everything: I need you." Spin-off of Butterflies; AU. Yuri main character. Dark themes, suicidal ideation, depression, gore, and frisky nudity later on.

Warnings! This is a very real look into the depths of depression, into sexuality, and into working as an ANBU Operative. The main pairing is two OCs: Namiki Aya and Hyuuga Hitomi, both from Butterflies and The Butterfly Effect. Don't like? Don't read.

Chapter 9 – Some days…?

8-8


"Nah, you guys go on ahead," Uzumaki offers, a faraway look in his eyes. "I think I'll stay here. Lady can stay, too!" Lady whines a little, but cuddles up beside Uzumaki.

A sinking feeling hits me all at once. These two opting out could mean they don't want to get dragged into a shopping trip. No, it's probably that. It must be that. Don't make yourself paranoid, Aya.

"Alright. We'll be back for dinner. Don't open the gate for anyone, no matter what is claimed. In fact, ignore the doorbell altogether. And let Lady play in the back yard if she wants to run around." He waves it off, muttering something about know that already.

With no reason not to, Hyuuga and I leave our lazy bones packmates be, and head out. That bad feeling isn't going away though.

8-8


Our first stop is in the Clans' District—some house I don't recognize. I know the symbol, though—the Sarutobi clan crest. We follow the cement-looking wall dotted with this symbol, to a checkpoint where two Sarutobis stand guard.

"Ah, Hitomi. She's expecting you," one of the guards greets us. We're waved through, like it's the most normal thing in the world. Nope. I'm not even going to try to understand this.

Hyuuga leads me to the main building of the compound, knocking on the door. It takes but a moment, before I smell someone starts coming our way. A familiar scent, if slightly different. The door swings open, revealing a red-haired, violet-eyed kunoichi wearing a jounin outfit and flak jacket. She's a head taller than me, but she seems to be around my age.

She smells of Uzumaki, and I know for a fact he hasn't seen her to leave his scent on her so dominantly—let alone that he admitted to liking the shy Hyuuga. I narrow my eyes, but choose to say nothing on the matter.

"Sorry for taking so long. Good afternoon, Hitomi-san, Namiki-san. Won't you please come in? I have everything ready for you in the visitors' sitting room," carrot top informs us. I nod, following Hyuuga into the very traditional home. We take off our shinobi sandals, setting them out of the way as neatly as we can, before following our hostess into an elaborately decorated room with a flower arrangement, a hung scroll with the kanji for peace, unity, and family neatly painted onto it—or whatever you call this style of writing with a calligraphy brush.

There's also a low table, with inks and two brushes set to one side. We're asked to have a seat opposite to where those things are set, and she offers us tea and something to snack on. All following a protocol that would have sensei falling apart at the seams if I would do as much.

I turn to Hyuuga, wondering what we're even doing here. She smiles, shaking her head to indirectly tell me I'll have to wait to find out. I sniff, finding that same overwhelming scent, but it's just not something I'm equipped to unfuck.

Soon the kunoichi comes back in, sitting down and serving us our tea and offering us mochi. I study this girl, wondering what swathes of the puzzle I'm missing. Her hands are delicate, no callouses, bruises, or obvious cuts to speak of. Her arms are long, but with a decent muscle to show she trains. Humble bust. Skinny—too skinny for my tastes, she should eat more. She carries herself with a grace that tells me she's been brought up well, educated in, and accustomed to, the life of a noble's daughter.

Her gaze meets mine. She smiles, bobbing her head in a sort of greeting. "Forgive my poor manners, Namiki-san. I am Sarutobi Asami. Hokage-sama's daughter," she offers, lying through her teeth. I detect no deceit, but she is no Sarutobi.

"Namiki Aya," I bob my head, narrowing my eyes slightly.

"A pleasure to meet Uzumaki Naruto's shadow guard at long last," she soothes, smiling warmly. She knows. She wouldn't bring him up otherwise. Oh, Hokage-dono, you are slick. "Now, Hitomi-san. You mentioned needing specialised seals?"

"Yes. Aya-chan, we'll need your gloves," Hyuuga reminds me. I nod, digging into my handbag for my two scrolls. "She needs type three storage seals. They'll need to carry weapons, roughly the size of a tetsubo, just to be safe." A tetsubo? A studded club? Why would I need that? Those things are too heavy for me, and unwieldy to boot.

"That sounds easy enough," Sarutobi murmurs, her gaze flicking to me. She's as curious about me as I am about her. "How many are we talking about?"

"As many as possible. She'll need two on each palm she can activate one-handed. On the back of the palm she'll need seals that can contain two scrolls that also contain seals. On the inner forearms the seals will need to contain multiple of the same item that she can unseal one at a time. On the outer forearms, she'll need more storage. Think camping gear and the like."

"Hmm? Yeah, that makes sense. And pretty simple, all things considered." I'm not sure what to make of this, but I know I'm going to enjoy it all the same. "In fact… I think she'll need a little something extra?"

"Extra?" Hyuuga asks, curious.

"Yeah. A large scroll meant to store corpses for bounty hunting and collection. And another scroll where she can store live prisoners for secure transportation," Sarutobi explains, her gaze on me once again. I smirk. I know a buyoff when I see one. "Say… thirty of each?"

"That's fair," I agree. Alright, Sarutobi. I'll keep my mouth shut.

"I…" she blushes, looking away from me. "I'll double it if you… if you keep me up to date on Naruto?"

"Alright," I agree, bobbing my head.

"If you agree to train her in the sealing arts, she might be tempted to arrange a more… direct method of getting to know him," Hyuuga butts in. I narrow my eyes, glancing at her. But then, it really wouldn't hurt.

"N-nn," she noises, bobbing her head once again. Having finally found the seal I need, I push some chakra into it, unsealing the gloves Hyuuga got me. Black, elbow-length gloves with no fingers. "Alright. You'll need to put them on so I can mark where the seals need to be."

Setting the scroll aside, I roll up my sleeves and slip into my gloves. Sarutobi sets a red marker on the table, to mark where the seals need to be. Life just got interesting.

8-8


Walking down an empty street, I feel so much more at ease. Sarutobi made good on her word, so my gloves are dotted with the storage seals. Including the seals that contain the eight scrolls she promised—four containing fifteen seals each for corpses, four containing the same for living prisoners.

And the first place Hyuuga takes me, is to the market, to the stall where I buy my chocolate. She picks up and pays for a hundred bars of Suju's dark chocolate! Then she instructs me to seal them all in my glove, telling me to unseal one so I can pig out.

I… suddenly feel a little lightheaded, but not in a bad way. It's… it feels almost good in a way, but it worries me all the same.

And the little bubbly feeling in my tummy isn't helping much.

"Alright. This will work for rations bars and bottles of water, as well. Just remember to plan for four meals a day for the duration of your mission, then add half more as a buffer," she explains sagely.

She drags me into a shinobi specialty store, taking me straight to the counter and the worker smiling warmly at us. She explains to me that she has a tab here, and goes through the motions of registering me as a regular customer, with her credit line extending to me. She drags me deeper into the store, showing me the rations bars she always takes, explaining why she prefers that brand—something about it not 'backing her up' as much as the others. Then the bottles of water she buys, and why she buys them here and not at a civilian store—something about the security/surveillance these bottles are subjected to, to safeguard the shinobi clientele.

We get camping equipment for me—tent, futon, linens, pillows (she makes a joke about me needing a pillow to sleep on and a pillow to cuddle with).

Then comes the survival equipment—water filter to refill water bottles, special fishing kunai and fishing wire, a detailed map of the Elemental Nations, scent removing-smoke bombs, a special skinning knife, a book on edible flora and fauna (which is categorized by location), a fire-starter set, a specialised medical kit (which includes an impressive array of antidotes, blood plasma pills, splints, medical gauze, antiseptic, iodine, and goodies I've never even heard of), and cooking equipment.

Let's not forget a few hundred rations bars, the same in bottles of water, soldier pills, a collection of spices and herbs in handy little bottles, and a dozen special little bags to pack a few dozen things in and roll up for convenience sake—which, I'm told, will be used to organize my things better.

As if that isn't enough, she takes me to the outfits section, where she picks up a proper raincoat, a kasa hat, like rice farmers wear, a dozen bars of scent-removing soap, and an outfit she wants me to try on—it looks like a jounin uniform, but with the facemask Hatake wears and a hoodie. She even unfolds it, to make sure it's a sleeveless one.

I come out of the changing room, wearing the outfit and wanting to present myself to her. Her eyes travel up and down my body, taking in every part of me. The queasy feeling in my stomach intensifies.

"You have two leg and hip pouches?" she asks, her lingering gaze still drinking in what she sees. I find myself hoping she likes what she sees, but I can't seem to bring myself to get her to confirm that.

"N-nn," I noise with a jerky little nod. Why do I feel so nervous all of a sudden? It's not like Hyuuga won't have girls throwing themselves at her. I mean, Anbu Op, strong, cute, kind, gracious… and a sense of loyalty that I can most definitely appreciate.

"Yes. Good. Alright, we'll get you five sets of this one, and another five slightly thicker for winter," she mutters, obviously thinking aloud.

"D… do you l-like… how it looks on me?" I struggle not to blush, but I'm pretty sure it isn't helping. At all.

"You look cute and professional," she assures me, but that doesn't answer my question. I start running my finger up and down the seam of my pants, getting more and more nervous—unsure if she's avoiding the question altogether. "Come on, we still need to go to the blacksmith after this."

I huff, annoyed with her. Mostly I'm annoyed with myself, though. After all, she probably still sees the five year old me—not the woman I'm growing into.

Whatever.

8-8


Right across the street from the outfitter, is the blacksmith she drags me into. I find myself getting more and more irritable, but I can't figure out why. I mean, she's being sweet and caring and attentive, seeing to my every possible need without fail.

Sigh. I just don't have any luck with people.

We pass blades of all kinds as we go, into a section with bo staves, and tonfas, and…

"Alright. We're getting you two new weapons to work with," she informs me. I'm not sure what to make of her offer. I mean, I still haven't even started working on the flute or the battle fans she got me. I have enough going on, and with the stretches I need to do for both hands to build back up my bones and muscles to get used to working with them again, it's not as if I've had much time for anything other than those chakra control exercises.

Unaware of my plight, she grabs a tetsubo. Taller than by my half and covered with little iron bumps meant to fuck up the victim's day—armoured or not.

"Right. That's the weapon. Now, we need to replenish your needles, senbons, kunai, and the poisons you gave those Nara girls. And your ninja wire was running low. Better get that, too," she murmurs, once again thinking aloud, or talking to herself. How'd she know…?

Sigh. Nothing but basket cases in my life.

8-8


With my new things sealed away—she'd demanded my flute, tessen, and tetsubo get stored in the seals on my palms—we head out once again. She has something special in mind this time, though she refuses to admit to what, or much of anything for that matter. Still. I feel fully armed, even with my usual weapons all sealed away. So I don't mind too much.

With her self-appointed duties handled, she leads me towards the Tower. Right up to the third floor. Right up to Hokage-dono's office. She doesn't even knock before she opens the door.

Sensei, Nara-sama, Yamanaka from T&I, the trench coat wearing kunoichi from the other day, and Hatake are here.

"Hyuuga," I grind out in warning. I'm not in the mood to be present for a bullshit meeting where no one is going to fucking listen to me and talk about me like I'm not even here.

"It's alright, Aya-chan. We're only here to listen to the outcome," she supposedly reassures me. Instead of listening to them discuss things, I get to hear only the end result. It isn't a step up.

"Please close the door, sweetie," sensei asks, her eyes asking me to trust her once again. For a group of people that quite often show no reason for me to trust them, I'm asked to trust them anyway too often for this to be healthy.

Once the door is closed, the usual tingling sensation washes over me. I sigh, turning to hear what this group believe is 'for my own good'.

"You're leaving Konoha for a while," sensei's the one to break the news to me. I snort, unamused. "On a training mission. Just you and Hitomi. It's the only thing that we agree makes sense."

"Alright. Then you," I point at Hokage-dono, "need to stop smoking. You," I point at sensei, "need to stop ordering me around. You," I point at Nara-sama, "need to stop being lazy and need to start disciplining your son. You," I point at the still nameless trench coat-wearing kunoichi, "need to stop flaunting what kami-sama gave you to work with. And you," I point at Hatake, "need to stop being hours late to everything and reading porn in public. We all clear on what ain't fucking happening? Good. Now, to the actual point of this meeting?"

Silence ensues. Both uncomfortable and louder than Uzumaki shouting.

"Aya, I th—"

"I've had someone dictating my wardrobe. Someone dictating my schedule. Someone dictating my diet. Someone dictating how much sleep to get. Someone dictating my training. And someone trying to dictate who I should and shouldn't speak to. Now you're all here together, trying to dictate whether or not I'm leaving this village, heedless of my thoughts on the matter," I lay it all out for them in a complete monotone. "And yet, not one of you is willing to accept one order from me?"

"That's what parenting is, Aya," sensei points out, stubbornly standing her ground. And then you wonder why I only called Nara-sama that for that one meeting to buy me the time I need to come up with a plan?

"Ah, yes. And who in this room is my parent?" I look around in mock curiosity. Shockingly, no one responds. "So, after all my bending over backwards to accommodate you. This is what I get? More orders? More bending over backwards?"

"Don't do this," sensei begs. "I don't want you to leave, baby. I—"

"And yet no one feels the need to explain anything?" I cut in. "You have sixty seconds before I decide this meeting is not worth my time."

"Danzo has made his move," she explains. Sort of.

"So? Who the fuck is that? Why does he care about me? What does he want with me? And why is leaving Konoha the only viable option?"

"What's important here, sweetie, is that—"

"Hold. I am not your child," I remind her, unmoved by the tears collecting in her eyes for once. Fuck this manipulation bullshit! Deal with me like I have a fucking brain for once! "I am a kunoichi of Konoha. And if you are giving me a mission, you will give me the mission parameters I need to ensure the mission is fulfilled to the letter."

"A-Aya, p-please stop making this harder than it needs to be."

"Oh? I'm sorry. Hold on, let me hang up my brain and fill my skull with your knowing what's best for me," I drone, glaring at her. "And if you try any of that you're better off not knowing shit…"

She looks away, trying to hide the minute wince. Hmm. So that was the next move, huh?

"Alright. You know what? Cards on the table. I need orders and parameters. Otherwise I assume I'm being banished permanently."

"Baby! We would ne—"

"Look at what the fuck I know!" I bellow. Sensei jerks back, tears streaming down her face. She doesn't even try to wipe them away. "I know I'm leaving. That's. It. How the fuck do you want me to take it? That I'm on a paid vacation? That I'm getting put up in a fucking five star resort?"

No one answers. "Now someone start explaining something!" I demand.

A hand lands on my shoulder. Hyuuga. "It's alright, Aya," she murmurs into my ear, no doubt having leaned in quite a bit to do so. "I'll be by your side, I promise."

"Hy—"

"Please?"

"Why can't I know anything?" I demand, tears of frustration threatening to break free. "You assholes trusted me to keep Uzumaki for years. No one tried fucking helping me, no one bothered to see if either of us were still breathing. And suddenly I can't even be trusted with simple mission pa—"

She turns me to her. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears. "Please, Aya. I need you to trust me."

The urge to rip off my forehead protector and shove it down someone's throat is almost overwhelming. "If there's nothing else?" I drone, reining in my emotions to the point my face becomes a porcelain mask.

"No, Aya-chan. You're dismissed."

8-8


Arriving back at the den, Hyuuga starts looking more and more nervous. She brings me into the family sitting room, sits me down, and utters the words that skyrockets my blood pressure instantly:

"I'm not allowed to say anything about the mission. For reasons I am not allowed to discuss." I screw my eyes shut, gritting my teeth so hard I feel they complaining about it. My hands ball into fists, my heart thrumming in my throat and head.

Breathe, Aya. Just breathe. Just breathe. Just calm down. It's… well, it's not alright. Nothing about this is alright. But Hyuuga would never abandon you, you're safe with her.

It's alright…ish.

"Fine. When do we leave?"

"At my discretion," she assures me—the only good things she's said. "I've made arrangements with Yoshino-san. Naruto will be staying with them. I've made arrangements with Hana for Lady. I've paid for the operation, should we be gone that long. And Hana assures me that both she and Kiba will take good care of her for you."

I take a deep, de~eeeeeeeeep breath, trying to calm down. Leaving not only Uzumaki behind, but Lady, too? An injured pup that needs me to take care of her?

"Listen to me, Aya. I need you to pack your things for a month long mission. You're going to need the weapons I got you, the clothes I got you, I want you to consider twin wakizashis, and you'll need some jutsu scrolls and reading material."

I make a mental list, wondering at all the things she got me earlier.

"For jutsus scrolls. Medical jutsus you'll need: the Diagnostic jutsu, the Healing jutsu, the Detox jutsu, the Chakra Scalpel jutsu, and the Mystic Palm jutsu." My jaw drops open. Just how long will we be gone? "You'll need to sign your family's summoning contract. You'll also be selecting a range of D, C, and B-rank Earth Release jutsus."

"Hyuuga?"

"No questions, Aya. I don't want to lie to you," she almost begs. I breathe a sigh, unsure what to feel about any of this. "I don't know what jutsus you've learned so far. But we'll discuss that when we get out there. You're allowed to say nothing of this to anyone. And more importantly, you will not be allowed to know when we are leaving. Is that understood?"

I nod. I don't want to—I want to scream enough profanities to make dock workers look like monks. But I trust Hyuuga. She'll do right by me. I know she will. Mama'd never forgive her otherwise.

8-8


Arriving at sensei's for dinner, I find a strange collection present: Teams Seven, Eight, and Ten, including the senseis. I smell Nara-sensei's fingerprints all over this. Given Hyuuga refused to let me out of the house before I packed everything, I'm unsure how to feel about this. We could leave the village for an undetermined duration at any second, and sensei does this?

"Hey, Aya-chan! Hinata-chan and I were just talking about you!" Yamanaka gushes, waving me over. I look to Hyuuga, who shoos me over to the girls. The second I sit down by them, blondie starts up on me again. "I was telling her how you need to start learning to play your flute. And it turns out that she's also a music enthusiast!"

"Is that so," I drone. Something feels off this evening. It's almost as if I wonder if I'll see them again—strange, considering how I've avoided them for so long.

"Yeah! She was even telling us about this play she went to see the other day, where the geisha were playing a song she liked… um, what was it called again, Hinata-chan?"

"C-calm lake," the shy one answers, her eyes downcast and a little smile on her lips.

"I've never heard of it," Haruno jumps in. Weren't she and Yamanaka always at each other's throat? This day seriously needs to end.

I make a noncommittal grunt and shrug. It's not as if I know how to play a note on the damn thing, so songs are out of my league.

I listen to them chatting away. The shy one stammering her way through her words. The blonde oozing and gushing about something or other. The fangirl being somewhat normal for a change—Uchiha doesn't get mentioned once.

They just are. No filters, no inhibitions, no expectations. Wherever the conversation goes, they follow along. Haruno asks about my new gloves, but I don't feel like talking about that. Yamanaka remarks that my fingers seem less stiff—how she even notices that isn't something I plan on understanding. Again and again, they try to lure me into the conversation.

I glance at Hyuuga and sensei, who're talking amongst the senseis. Hyuuga smiles at me, her eyes flicking to the others as if encouraging me to play nice.

"Hey, Yamanaka? I've been meaning to ask you. Why don't you start learning genjutsus?" I offer, trying to talk about something I know something about. After all, besides training, there isn't a lot I've ever had to talk about.

"When would I find the time? I mean, between the psychology lessons, the profiling lessons, the clan trainings, training with Asuma-sensei, and all the other stuff dad has me studying? I'm amazed I get eight hours of sleep." I didn't know that. I was wrong about her. "Why do you ask? Are you into genjutsus?"

"Yeah. They need an insane level of chakra control, but it's been really useful," I point out. There. I've contributed to the conversation. Happy?

Yamanaka starts theorising about her not being the type, and Haruno heartily agrees with her. Yamanaka takes exception to that, but Haruno takes it a step further saying how Yanamaka doesn't have 'the brains' for something like that.

Sigh. They were getting along so well.

"There's a book called Genjutsu made easy. If you're interested, you should read it," I change the subject. "After all, there's no such thing as a useless skill."

"H-have you r-read it?" the shy one asks. I only nod, wishing to hear the end of those two idiots' bickering.

"OH YEAH?!" Yamanaka, you're being too loud. Lady starts whimpering, not liking how loud the conversation has become. Fine. Let's handle this, then.

I mould the chakra in my voice box, prepping the Soothing jutsu. Just as the vein in Yamanaka's forehead looks like it's about to pop, I let loose a throaty groan, unleashing my genjutsu on them.

The room grows silent. All conversation ends and everyone's eyes are on me. When blondie's and pinkie's eyes are in focus once again, I offer them a dull glare.

"If you two are quite done?" I drone. I get nothing but blinks and doe-eyed stares.

Maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut. It'd have been so much simpler.

8-8


It's just about time to go to sleep. Sensei begged for me to spend the night at her place, assuring me there is more than enough room for Uzumaki, Hyuuga, and myself. That of course translates to Hyuuga and me sharing a room, and Uzumaki sleeping in with Nara-san.

Still. Whatever.

Sensei comes in, wishing Hyuuga and I pleasant dreams, turning off the light on her way out. I look over at Hyuuga, slumped up against the wall—the grip of her sheathed katana is lain against her shoulder, the tip between her thighs. She's still drunk off her mission adrenaline, still trying to come down from the high.

Her eyes are red, to show she needs her sleep. Her body seems relaxed, but there's a tension below the surface to show she's ready to spring into action at any second. She isn't ready to go on another mission, her mind and body need and deserve some rest. Yet the thought of allowing someone else—anyone else—take me likely never crossed her mind.

"Sleep, Aya. We've a long day ahead of us."

8-8


"Welcome, one and all, to your doom!" Uzumaki starts trouble. It turns out, that sensei invited the three teams last night, for the sake of inviting them to a tournament this morning. Oh joy. "I, Uzumaki Naruto, am going to be today's ultimate fighter! So I hope you like your humble pie served cold!"

I shake my head, my shoulders and chest quivering with laughter. Uzumaki is such a goofball.

"Hnn," Uchiha clearly believes himself superior. And I know Inuzuka is gunning for top dog. Still, they forget Aburame is the only unknown factor here—everyone else is a known, and therefore predictable quantity.

At any rate, I like Nara-san's idea. So I plop down beside him, hugging my knees as I gaze up at the clouds. The sky looks bland as ever, its blue a dull hue. Still, the clouds are interesting. There's one that looks like the popcorn chicken sensei taught me to make—really small, and kind of ball-like. And another the looks like Uzumaki and I drinking the broth from a bowl of ramen.

The wind feels so nice this morning. It gently blows, tussling my hair and slapping the end of my ponytail into my face more often than not. I fish out the strands from between my lips, wondering why I'm suddenly noticing this at all.

They say the world is full of colour, full of texture, full of life and the living. Yet everything I experience is dull, bland, and smacks of death.

The skills I've accrued, all related to killing. The talent I inherited comes from a woman who was Anbu captain at age sixteen, whose hard-earned reputation was wrought in the forge of the Third Shinobi War. Her kill count was second only to the Fourth himself.

Those are the sandals I need to fill, the legacy I need to fulfil to make her proud of me.

My eyes droop, my gaze falls onto the springy grass beneath me. Will I ever live up to expectations? Could I? After all, that was a woman that dared to go toe-to-toe with the likes of Namikaze Minato.

I find myself picking at the grass beside my sandal. I never wanted that life, this life I find myself leading. I wanted to follow in papa's footsteps, to be a medic. I wanted to save lives, not end them. I wanted to be the one to tell the little girl in the waiting room that her daddy is just fine, and that he'll tuck her in soon enough.

How ironic. That two utter opposites like mama and papa came together to produce a clueless shit-for-brains like me.

"You have your papa's brains, no doubt about it." Mama's words echo through me, thundering down the corridors of my heart.

I…

I miss you, mama…

I miss you, papa…

"Aya. We're starting," sensei calls to me. I nod to show I hear her, but I don't move. I can hear her just fine from right here. "Alright. Since we have ten contestants, four of you will have a pre-tournament round to narrow the selection down to eight. These two matches will be match Aya versus Shikamaru, and Naruto versus Chouji. If Aya and Shika can please come for the first match?"

8-8


I sigh, hearing Nara-san mirroring the sentiment. Neither of us is in the mood for this. He wants to cloud gaze, I just don't feel like dealing with people.

"The rules are simple! The winner is determined by knockout, ring out, or submission! This bouts will be taijutsu only! No weapons, and no chakra usage whatsoever! First match! Namiki Aya versus Nara Shikamaru! Begin!" Way to ham it up, sensei.

"Oi, Aya. This is more your thing… so I for—"

"Finish that sentence. I dare you," sensei sings, her tone sweet as honey. She just barely doesn't glow with whatever oddly placed emotion courses through her, not a trouble in her reality—or whatever bootleg version of it she lives in.

"Troublesome," Nara-san mutters, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Let's just get it over with."

I shrug, uncaring whatever he thinks this will be. We're on opposite sides of the little battle ring sensei drew in the grass, but he couldn't care less about that. In a straight up taijutsu match, he's outclassed and he knows it. He only just outstripped Uzumaki for graduation, and he likely hasn't done a damn thing about improving that.

He glares at me, but the glare quickly turns into an eye-roll and the shaking of his head.. "Pitted against a girl. How is that fair?" he grumbles. "If I hit her, I'll be a woman beater and I'll lose. If I refuse to hit her, I'll be a punching bag and I'll lose. There's no way to win."

I shake my head, wondering why he cares. Anyone with a kunai in their hand is capable of killing you. Age, sex, race, creed, all irrelevant. They have a pulse and a weapon.

More importantly, I'm the one at a severe disadvantage. He produces testosterone, a natural steroid that helps to build up his muscles. All I have is a natural limberness and hard-earned dexterity because of my training. Well, that and knowing the weak points of the body, but I can't exactly fuck up sensei's only son, now can I.

Then again, she arranged this. Sigh. I'd rather go back to cloud watching.

I stroll over to Nara-san, wondering at the lack of tension in him.

I punch right for his nose. He leans back and to the right. I snap back my fist before he grabs it.

I kick for his knee. He raises his leg, stopping my kick with the soft tissue—bunched up muscle where his upper shin meets his lower thigh—to cushion it. Oh really?

"Troublesome. Aya, don't go getting excited. That's too troublesome for words," he drones with a lazy drawl.

I draw back my foot, lashing another kick at his side. He goes for a two-armed chambered block.

The blow connects, but he barely reacts. I quickly snap another kick right for his head, landing a glancing blow on his cheek. Before he catches himself, I dash forward and ram a fist right in his left bicep, following up with a left el—

His leg connects with my knee, knocking me off balance. My elbow lands in his gut, winding him.

Don't get predictable, Nara-san.

I kneel, the only plausible reaction from getting my supporting leg kicked. Using the momentum he offered me, I bend over backward, using my right hand as a springboard, and launch my foot up at his face.

A muffled thud and a sting in my foot tells me I connected. He stumbles back, the sound of his sandals trampling grass and pebbles getting slightly softer to show a growing distance.

Nara-san. You suck. Uzumaki would have seen that coming.

"Shikamaru is out of the ring! Winner, Aya!" sensei calls it. I stand, moving over to Nara-san to check him. He's still standing, his forehead somewhat redder than usual.

I offer my fist, to show there's no love lost. He smiles that little smile of his, bumping fists with me.

"You pulled your punches," he accuses.

"And you didn't see through an obvious ploy," I counter. We both know he'd have seen that coming. "That makes us even."

He shrugs, walking back over to his favoured spot and plops back down on the grass. I agree, dwelling is pointless. I go and join him.

8-8


"The rules haven't changed! The second match! Uzumaki Naruto versus Akimichi Chouji!"

Uzumaki stands ready, bouncing from the energy in the traditional Muay Thai stance—standing on the balls of his feet and fists held high in the air. Everyone's eyes are on Uzumaki, especially his teammates'. They can't seem to make sense of the confidence in his stance, the sureness of how he holds himself.

"Just hurry up and lose, Naruto!" Haruno discourages him. "Everyone here wants to see Sasuke-kun fight, not you!" He shrugs, not caring. He doesn't look to anyone for support, he stands on his two feet, and he stands tall.

Chouji-san takes the standard Konoha-style stance.

"You can do it, Chouji!" Yamanaka cheers him on.

"Begin!"

Uzumaki wastes no time charging in.

Chouji dodges the first punch. He counters with a punch of his own.

Uzumaki's elbow knocks the punch off course. Chouji overextends, leaning too far forwards.

Uzumaki's knee jumps up, slamming into Chouji's gut.

Chouji doubles over, winded by the blow. He throws a punch at Uzumaki—less than efficient. He's out of breath, and his posture is horrid for it.

Uzumaki grabs him by the wrist, flipping him over the shoulder and tossing him out of the ring. Chouji rolls on impact, lessening the impact. Smart.

"Chouji is out of the ring! Naruto wins!"

All of our old classmates stare in slack-jawed awe, their eyes wide from shock. Not only did Uzumaki win, he won using skill. And in under a minute.

Uzumaki strolls over to Chouji-san, offering him a hand up. They bump fists, Chouji-san makes some comment I don't follow. I'm too busy offering a proud, knowing smirk to Uchiha and Haruno—and even busier enjoying pinkie's uncomfortable fidgeting.

Uzumaki comes to me, beaming to show he knows how he did. "What'd you think, momma-wolf?"

I could—and probably should—tell him to focus on the opponents before him, and not the defeated one behind him. "Not bad, Uzumaki," I offer instead. I smile, my eyes twinkling just a little to show my words are heartfelt. More important than the tactics lesson, is his need for someone to see his effort, his struggle.

"Alright! Now that we have eight contestants, the matches will be as follows! Match three is Sasuke versus Shino! Match Four is Naruto versus Hinata! Match Five is Aya versus Kiba! And Match Six is Ino versus Sakura! The winner of Match Three will face the winner of Match Four. The winner of Match Five will face the winner of Match Six. Then we have the final bout!"

How dramatic.

8-8


"N-Namiki-san?" I look over to the voice's source, finding the shy Hyuuga wants a word with me.

"The Third Match! Uchiha Sasuke versus Aburame Shino! Begin!" Well, it's not as if this match will be interesting to watch. I turn fully to the Hyuuga, wondering what she wants.

"I-I h-have… uh… h-here." She doesn't quite know how to get her words out, so she settles for offering two scrolls. I tilt my head slightly. "I-i-i-it's f-for y-your f-f-flute."

For my flute? Curious I take the scrolls, opening one of them. In the right corner—where the title is displayed—I find the words: The hiyashi-styled shinobue, learn to play.

Flipping that one closed, I turn to the second one. I open it as well, wondering what to expect. No title this time, just bars with funny little markings. Under the bars, I find something odd. Explanations, written in a different handwriting than the rest of it. Explanations what the markings are, now to read the bars, and how to read the rhythm—some quack theory about of the empty circle is a 'whole note'?

It's not like I know much of anything about music. I'll just have to go with the quack theory.

"Thank you," I murmur, bobbing my head. I have no idea what to make of this, what to make of her. But she's important to Uzumaki. That makes her important to me.

She smiles a little, unsure smile that shows me she's just as unsure how to handle this as I. I fight to repress a sigh, not wanting to make this worse than it already is.

Turning back to the match, I find what I was expecting—Uchiha is overwhelming Aburame, purely because Aburame's more of a jutsu user. Then again… how would they match up if Uchiha was allowed his Fire-release jutsus? He'd cook Aburame's bugs, but Aburame has a better chance of using that expectation to his advantage. Hmm. It could go either way.

At any rate, the longer Aburame lasts, the less enegy Uchiha will have against Uzumaki. Given Uzumaki is never runs out of energy, that's going to cost him.

Those two are still trying to outmanoeuvre each other, but it doesn't matter. Aburame is analytical enough to know he won't win. The only logical outcome, is that he's parrying and dodging Uchiha's attacks, because he knows what I know: nothing will hurt Uchiha more than losing to Uzumaki.

The match drags on—going on five minutes, by now. Uchiha notices the tactic too late, the damage is done. Uchiha glistens. Aburame as well, just as much, but the difference is that Aburame isn't aiming to win.

Almost as if to prove his superiority, Uchiha pulls out all the stops and really goes on the offensive. His face becomes a mask of concentration, his punches and kicks become blurs of motion.

I snort, shaking my head at the unneeded extra strain. This is only going to tire him out more, thereby playing right into Aburame's ploy. Sure, Uchiha is pressing what he sees as an advantage, and yes he is forcing his opponent back on attack at a time. In fact, Abruame's heel skirts the line of the ring—one good kick should do the job. I can't tell if Aburame notices, given his face has been unreadable this whole time.

A mighty kick, right at Aburame's chest. Aburame has to lock his stance to not get bowled over, but the force still pushes Aburame out of the ring, scoring a short-term win for Uchiha.

"Winner by ring out, Sasuke!" sensei calls it. Aburame bows, uncaring, and walks over to a spot by himself. The winner stands in the ring, congratulating himself—though he's soon lavished with praise by his two remaining fangirls.

He thinks he has this in the bag. His fan club certainly agrees.

8-8


"Fourth Match! Hyuuga Hinata versus Uzumaki Naruto!" The shy one's demeanour leaves a lot to be desired. She fidgets, rooted to the spot where she stands.

"Good luck to both of us," Uzumaki offers, with a thumbs up and a cheesy grin. She doesn't relax at all. I can only imagine what the thought of fighting her crush is doing to her.

"Begin!"

Thrusting his balled fists in the air, a silent battle cry to attest to his readiness, he nods to her. She blushes, looking down and away.

"It's alright, Hinata-chan," he assures her. I'm tempted to believe he understands what's going through her head. I'll be damned if I understand either well enough to figure them out. "Give it your all. That's all I'll ever ask."

I blink.

She takes a deep breath.

I tilt my head to one side, wondering why that does anything at all.

She takes the Konoha-style stance we were all taught.

He nods, a gentle smile in his eyes.

I shake my head in dismay, fearing for the future if this mouse is going to be the matriarch of the Uzumaki clan.

Then it all falls away. Gone is the fidgeting, gone is the nervous tension I've never seen her without. Gone is the mouse I've studied.

She flies at him, her foot little more than a blur as it's hurled at his side.

He blocks with his forearm, grabbing onto her shin. "Better! Much better, Hinata-chan! Give me more of that!"

Then he… is he…? He's letting go?

He. Lets. Go.

He has her where he clearly has the upper hand, and he lets her go.

What…?

She ambles back, slowly circling around him, looking for an opening. He resumes the Muay Thai stance, leaving his middle hopelessly open, at first glance. She blaze another kick, this time for his leg—for his knee.

He blocks with his shin, the force making her wince. He then lets her back off again, circling around for a better angle of attack. He keeps shifting with her, keeping her directly in front of him, where he's least vulnerable.

That sneaky little shit! This is how I taught him, exactly how I taught him. After I decided his form was no longer abhorrent, I'd let him attack me and only block. He isn't teaching her how to fight, though. He's teaching her that it's okay to mess up with him, that it's okay to learn from your mistakes.

The corners of her mouth curl up slightly, barely noticeable.

Hyuuga sidles up beside me, her stance slightly tense. "We leave after your match with Kiba," she murmurs, almost too soft for me to hear. I nod, unsure why I had to be here for this in the first place.

Over and over, the shy one attacks, the crass one blocks and lets her back off. She's starting to tire, though. Is he planning on masking this as the same tactic Aburame used? Is he planning this at all? I don't understand you, blondie. At all.

She tires, she's sweating bullets, and she doesn't seem to care. The smile on her face only grows brighter, as does the joy in her eyes.

She pauses, trying to catch her breath. Uzumaki walks over the huffing and puffing opponent he never lifted a finger to defeat. Her eyes are wide with shock, even as she struggles to calm her erratic heart—I can hear her racing heartbeat from here.

When he's close enough, he grins—the brightest, widest, cheesiest grin he can manage, gently lays both hands on her shoulders, and offers her some praise: "That's my girl."

She passes out. Surprising no one. "Winner by knock out, Naruto!" Everyone groans at the 'lame win', as Haruno abrasively points out.

That he catches her, however. That he scoops her up in his arms, bridal style. That he carries her over to Aburame, sets the glowing red kunoichi beside her teammate on the soft, springy grass where she can rest. That he sits down beside her, to guard her as she slumbers, and makes an offhand comment about liking Aburame's tactic against 'broody'.

Well, I for one am surprised as all hell. The more I study you, Uzumaki, the less sense you seem to make.

8-8


Inuzuka stands opposite me. Akamaru and Lady sit side by side at Uzumaki's feet. A straight up taijutsu match is Inuzuka's forte, and he's easily stronger than I am. His weakness is his intelligence—his being 'plenty smart enough'.

He sniffs, trying to get a good read on me. I shrug, not caring enough about a fight I won't be allowed to win. He raises an eyebrow, wondering what to make of me, then he narrows his eyes.

"You're not into guys," he points out, almost like he's talking about the weather.

"And that has what to do with this match?" I ask, my eyebrow halfway to my hairline. Uzumaki being a complete puzzle is one thing. Inuzuka showing intelligence? That's a whole other box of chocolates.

"You know how strong I am. You value strength. And yet, you aren't into me."

"That's the best explanation you have?" I drone, shaking my head in disgust.

"You're a canine, dog or not. You see strength the way Inuzukas see it. Even if you hated my guts, you'd still be aroused by a strong candidate. So yeah. You're not into guys." Thank you, professor horny mutt.

"I'm aroused by intelligence. That's why you can't affect me," I drone. Nothing but chuckles, giggles, and guffaws—mostly from Uzumaki, seeing how amused he is by this morning's entertainment. Asshole.

"Then Shikamaru would have you creaming your panties," he counters, smirking. He sounds sure of himself. Too sure of himself. "Ain't no shame in it, Aya. I think guys suck, too."

"Tha… that's n-not the point!" I try, knowing I've lost. Fact is, this is something I should have figured out years ago. I didn't. I didn't want to even consider the notion. Not that it matters, but still. "O-oi! Aren't we supposed to be fighting?"

"Fifth Match!" Sensei. I hear the amusement in your tone. And I see the mischief in your eyes. "Namiki Aya versus Inuzuka Kiba, Konoha's resident lady killers!" Uzumaki loses his shit, laughing so hard I'm amazed his sides don't burst.

"Hey, Aya-chan! If you beat Kiba, I'll give you a kiss during our match!" Yamanaka offers, grinning ear to ear. I roll my eyes, fighting off a blush.

"In your dreams, Ino-pig! Ther's no way I'm losing to you!"

"Do you want to kiss Aya-chan that badly?" Yamanaka teases. "She's attracted to intelligence, so you might stand a chance."

I groan, rolling my eyes up at the heavens and mutely beg for an explanation for the fascination with me.

"Forget this," I complain, beckoning to Lady. She comes tumbling over, her hind leg still bothers her too much for her to trot. I scoop her up, kissing her on the nose. She whimpers, grumbling pitifully about not wanting me to go. "Lady. Be good while I'm gone. Make sure you eat your food, and remind Inuzuka about your supplements, okay?"

Instead of answering me, she licks my nose and face—indirectly telling me not to go once again. I hand her to Inuzuka, no matter how my heart aches to keep my pup near.

"Take care of my pack, Inuzuka," my eyes flick to Uzumaki, so he knows who I mean, "and the Namiki family will be in your debt."

"Che. Inuzukas always take care of the pack, so you know I will," he brags, puffing out his chest. I roll my eyes, unwilling to get into that.

I turn from him, from Lady, ignoring the pitiful whimpering that'll be haunting me until I get back. I go to Uzumaki, tussle his hair, just because I can, and offer him a little smile. His lips curl upwards, trying to smile to show me he's okay, but his eyes droop—he doesn't want me to go, either.

Without a word, I look to Hyuuga. Her eyes flick in sensei's direction, the mute 'suggestion' more than obvious. Sigh.

I drag my feet over to sensei, ignoring the begging in her eyes and the heartache I'm responsible for. I unzip her flak jacket, nestling into her warmth as I listen to her heart beating—steady and strong. Her arms wrap around me, holding onto me like it's the last time she'll ever get the chance. Maybe it is. My parents both died on missions, so who's to say.

I pull… try to pull back from sensei, but she squeezes me tighter, telling me she's not ready to let go just yet. "Come home, baby," she begs. I'm still not sure why I need to take this mission, what the mission is, what the parameters are, or why she's not coming along. I just… I don't understand much of anything right now.

8-8

End Chapter 9

8-8


A/N: Sorry this took so much longer, but work got super busy all of a sudden. Here's to hoping that problem was fixed and everyone actually gets an update.