Chapter Twelve

Dancing, I discover, really is just like doing taijutsu katas. The movements must be swift and precise and go in exactly the right order. They must be timed and graceful, and you must anticipate them before you do them. There can be no halts in the flow of movement, no off-hand jerks or sudden spurts or pauses in the sequence of moves. There can be no obvious holes or openings in any stances, although the consequences are not nearly so deadly if there are. And there are several basic stances and individual moves that must all flow together into one great picture, one long river.

Shigeru-jii was right. The thought brings another pang deep inside my chest.

I forcibly shake off the pain and focus on Takara-sensei, who is, to our surprise, teaching this unit herself. I thought perhaps Ume and the other dancers might come back to work with us again, but instead Takara-sensei has rented out a room at the dance studio to use for two hours three times a week. She is lining us up in rows on the polish-scented wooden floor and then standing up at the front, right near the long mirror, to show us how to do the different moves. Her movements are very rigidly sequenced, not entirely natural, but her smooth experience with them cannot be denied.

Her method is simple. She shows us how to do the moves, and then we try to repeat them after her. Theoretically, we should also all be doing the moves at the same time.

That's going about as well as individual cooking stations did.

Still, though we can't all do them at the same time, the moves she's shown us so far are fairly simple. Most can repeat them, and the few clumsy ones who can't are quickly moved up to the front by Takara-sensei. "Usually it's the other way around," she explained to us once, "with the ones who have trouble in the back and the ones who look good at the front. But that's only in professional dancing troupes, when it's important to look good for the audience. Here, it's best if we realize your weaknesses and get rid of them right away."

I was put up in front on the very first day, to my dismay. I wasn't entirely surprised, since it was Takara-sensei, but I didn't like the way she silently assumed that I would be one of those doing worst. I set out immediately to prove her wrong.

After my training in basic taijutsu, of course, picking up on the moves and stances and making them flow together in the correct order was not that hard. Within the first few sessions, Takara-sensei had quietly moved me to the middle row, right next to Sakura and Ino. That was good... but still not quite good enough. Selfish though it might be of me, I was secretly hoping to gain the satisfaction of being moved to the back row.

I tried to explain this to Sakura and Ino one day after a session. They didn't seem to understand at all.

"What do you mean, Naruto?" Sakura asked in confusion. "You're doing great. She moved you away from the clumsy row, didn't she?" she finished in a 'what more could you want?' sort of way.

"Yeah," Ino agreed. "Look at you. Ami-bitch won't even look at you anymore. You've shown Takara-sense that she shouldn't care about your parents or whatever, because you're still talented yourself. You're really good at this. Why so hung up on one more row?"

I felt almost betrayed. I thought at least the louder, more passionate Ino might understand. I frowned, trying to find the words to explain what I was feeling. "But I mean," I said slowly, "haven't you ever wanted to do something just to prove you can? Haven't you ever wanted to be able to show someone who doubted it just how strong you really are? Haven't you ever wanted to do your very best at something just so you could be proud of yourself afterward?"

I felt it all the time. In my determination to become, not only a powerful shinobi, but a good one. Every time I helped Aya cook a meal in the kitchen, and could do most of it by myself. Whenever I passed by a neutral or vaguely respectful villager in the streets, and we nodded to each other like normal people. Whenever I determinedly ignored a cold, glaring villager.

They just raised their eyebrows at me, obviously startled by my passion. There was no answering fire, no similar connection, in their eyes.

They didn't understand, I realized.

Ino had started her shinobi training, I knew from talking to her. Occasionally she'd ask me for tips on how to do something, so I knew how far along she was. Her father hadn't started her regimen nearly to the extent Shigeru-jii and Jiji had to mine. I was much farther along than her. All of the exercises she did were fairly basic and relatively easy.

She got good grades at the public school she and Sakura went to, but she was mostly a B student. She didn't really strain herself to do absolutely perfect in a civilian school that she knew was only going to be a stepping stone anyway.

She was the only child of two very loving parents, she had good friends everywhere because of her confident attitude, and she was usually very comfortable with herself.

Sakura had no real exercises to do outside of school. Her parents were civilian merchants who, by her own admission, "treated her like a china doll." I wasn't even sure if she was going to apply for the Konoha Ninja Academy.

She got straight As at public school, but because of her natural love for reading and her photographic memory, that wasn't any great strain for her. Sakura was naturally book-smart. Ami had not just nicknamed her "Forehead Girl" because of her wide forehead.

She, again, had very loving parents. She also had a lot of friends, in me and through Ino. She didn't used to have friends, and she was picked on by Ami, but from what I knew, she had never tried to defend herself against Ami's bullying until Ino came along and gave her a bit more self-confidence.

Neither of them had ever really had to try for anything.

As I left with Cat-Megumi that afternoon, I reflected to myself that this was another thing that separated me from my friends. Not only had I gone through many painful things that I hoped they never had to... I knew what it was to want something so badly in the face of people telling you that you couldn't have it.

The thought made me feel lonely.

Strange moments like this... flashes of depression or dark thoughts or loneliness... are always quickly suppressed, but they still happen somewhat frequently. The smallest thing can touch off a memory or a dark reflection and send my emotions spiraling downward rapidly. I didn't know what to do about this or my dancing problem until one day, right in the middle of a dance class. I was doing a certain move right beside Sakura and Ino, as I normally was. I happened to glance over at them during the move, and suddenly they seemed so far away from me. It seemed like there was an entire wide gulf of experiences and emotions separating, not only me and them, but me and all the children around me.

This sudden, overarching despair, which I would normally have suppressed with meditation or reading or listening to Ino's CD player or gardening or training with Ko... or even cooking with Aya... I could do nothing about in the middle of a dance class. The darkness welled up within me, fierce and cloistering and consuming... and then I pushed all of it into one great, flowing move. I'm not sure how to explain how the emotion suddenly became a part of the dance, being released through the movement of my body. Suddenly, I could feel my dance taking on an entirely new energy and dimension, flowing with the great tidal wave of inner sensation I was swept up in.

That was when I realized it. It was one thing to defend yourself against an enemy in a taijutsu kata. It was an entirely different thing to make a beautiful, perfect dance that expressed the very pinnacle of emotion itself without saying a word.

I could release my emotions through my dancing, let them become a part of my song.

I was moved to the back row not very long after that realization. Dancing has become a release I look forward to every day.

Konohamaru and I are waiting for our new special-jonin-sensei to arrive at the underground training chambers. We are nervous, but for different reasons.

Konohamaru is nervous because this will be his first encounter with a teacher who is not his father, or occasionally, his grandfather.

I am nervous because I know from my reading with Jiji what a big deal it is to be taught by a jonin, even just the lower rank of special jonin. Besides, though Jiji promised that the man would treat us with respect, I can't help but wonder... will he have a problem with me being a Jinchuuriki?

So to distract ourselves, I am giving Ko tips on how to throw his kunai better. He can't throw nearly as far as I can... he is just a few months short of five, after all. But I kneel down behind him and help him hold the kunai better, teaching him how to aim and how to throw. He takes up another kunai and rears his arm back, and I hold his hand to adjust it slightly...

Suddenly, a male voice rings out across the room, "That is not perfect technique!"

We both start and look up to see a man with a hitai-ate on his forehead standing across the room, his arms folded. Not even I heard him coming... then again, he is a special jonin.

He is of medium height and slim build, with a pale, pointed face and dark-shaded glasses partially hiding his eyes. He is dressed in deep, navy blue pants and shirt. Tied around his head is a dark kerchief, which has his hitai-ate symbol sewn into its front. There is lithe muscle under his tight clothes, and even standing still, he carries himself like a shinobi.

Ko frowns at him. "What do you mean, it's not perfect?!" he shouts, almost antagonistically.

A smug look comes over the man's face and he reaches up to push his glasses farther up his nose. "That is imperfect technique. It is not correct. That is not the proper way to throw a kunai."

I stand up beside Ko. "I can use it, and hit the targets too," I say, confused.

"That is irrelevant," the man says in a dismissive way, not even looking away from Ko to glance at me. "It is not the proper way to throw a kunai."

I frown as well, not liking being ignored. "What do you mean by 'proper'? It works, doesn't it? As long as it can hit the target, isn't that considered a 'proper' shinobi technique?"

The man finally looks away from Ko to stare at me. The cast of his face seems irritated. "There are certain 'textbook', if I may, ways to do things. Certain tried and true techniques approved by the top shinobi of our esteemed village. Certain shortcuts to achieve the best possible techniques at the best possible speed. Certain tested and experimented training methods designed to increase one's capacity on the field. These are techniques and ways that every Konoha shinobi or future Konoha shinobi should be using." He finishes his speech as if he's reciting memorized rote.

Ko is scowling. He probably has no idea what any of that means, but doesn't wish to show it. I understand it, though, and it irritates me.

"How do you think those techniques were come by?" I can't help but argue. "At some point, every one of those techniques was a new idea or way of doing things that had to be given a chance."

"You think you know better than shinobi on the level of your grandfather in such matters?" He sounds condescending now, and I hate that even more.

"I think it would be stupid to dismiss a technique or way of doing things just because it's new, especially if it works," I reply heatedly, glaring up at him. "It doesn't matter how 'proper' this way of throwing kunai is if it can aim the kunai well enough to hit the target."

He glares back at me fully for a long moment. Ko is staring between us. "Nonetheless," the man replies after a moment, "I am your teacher and I don't want you throwing kunai that way."

"Our last teacher did!"

"And your last teacher would have wanted you to listen to the orders of your superiors," the man says, drawing himself up to tower over me. "That, as you will learn, is one of the Shinobi Creeds."

"Another of the Shinobi Creeds is that a subordinate should be on the look-out for superior orders that seem competely illogical or detrimental to the mission, for the superior may be a traitor or not of sound mind," I shoot back. He stares at me. "And I know what the Shinobi Creeds are," I can't help but add. "I was taught how to read by the Sandaime Hokage of Konohagakure."

His face twists in anger and he opens his mouth, but then there is a slight pause. Then his mouth snaps shut again and his face abruptly closes itself. "A teacher can only teach the student," he says, as if to himself. "It is up to the student to follow the teacher. If you choose not to follow my instructions, I cannot help you. Throw the kunai the wrong way if you must." By the end of the speech, the condescension is back.

"Okay," I tell him, forcing myself to shrug nonchalantly.

"Yeah!" Ko adds, standing beside me to glare at him too.

The man stares at us coldly for a long moment before saying, "I am Ebisu, personal trainer of Hokages -"

"You trained the Yondaime?" I interrupt in sudden interest.

"Do not interrupt me!" he snaps, sounding frustrated. I can see a faint flush to his face.

He didn't.

This man has never trained a Hokage in his life. The others are too old for a man in his late twenties to have trained them.

He takes a deep breath and starts again. "I am Ebisu, personal trainer of Hokages, and it is my job to mold the Honored Grandson here into a perfect Hokage candidate, using special, approved techniques and shortcuts only I can teach him." He gives Ko another smug look. Ko scowls, clearly not appreciating this or liking the idea of this training.

I know I told Ko we should treat our new teacher with respect so that we can learn better, like Jii would have wanted us to... but I take it back. This man annoys me.

Besides, it's not like Jii would have wanted us to take orders from someone like him. Shigeru-jii could have beaten this pansy in two seconds flat.

"And what about me," I interrupt again. "What if I wanted to be Hokage instead of Ko?" Do I not get any of his "special shortcuts"?

Ebisu pretends not to have heard me. "Now, I want you to go through each of the exercises you go through during a typical, full-length training day, in the order you do them in." We stand there, glaring at him for a moment. "Go!" he orders, and we reluctantly rush off to complete the exercises.

He doesn't seriously critique anything else we do.

I still miss Shigeru-jii.

"Naruto, you're being immature."

No, I'm not!" I shout, frustrated.

It's dinnertime. I tried to calm myself after our session with Ebisu by helping Aya cook the meal, but it didn't do much. Jiji finally got home, and Ko and I immediately beset him, complaining to him about all the things Ebisu had said. I thought this would fix everything, but to my surprise, Jiji is completely unsympathetic.

"Really," he scolds me, "I expected such immaturity of Ko. He's younger. But from you..."

He sounds disappointed. The thought stings. "I'm the one who told Ko we should give him a chance," I insist, trying to push my emotions back behind the numbness and explain. "But he's horrible. He completely ignores me, he's a smug egomaniac, and he doesn't think we can do anything right! Not to mention, he keeps talking about 'shortcuts' and 'textbook techniques'. Shigeru-jii always told us the only way to truly get better was through hard work, and that as long as something worked, it didn't matter how weird it was!"

I finish my entreaty, looking up at him pleadingly. "He sucks," Ko adds from my side, the pout obvious in his voice. He fell into a scowling, sulky silence the moment Jiji first said he wasn't changing our teacher. Ko has been doing that a lot lately.

Jiji sighs and kneels down to look us in the eyes. "You have to stop comparing him to Shigeru," he says gently. "It won't do either of you any good."

The matter-of-fact tone to his voice makes me pause. Ko is suddenly silent beside me.

"Ebisu is not Shigeru. You must accept this. And trust me when I say that I know he's obnoxious about it, but he is a very good teacher and those 'textbook techniques' do work. He is also anything but lazy, despite all his talk of shortcuts. Just give him another chance. I have talked to him about you, and he knows that he must treat you fairly." He gives me a significant glance, and I realize he expects me to come to a different understanding of what he's saying than Ko. "Tell me if he purposefully excludes you from anything or tells you something that doesn't make sense. Tell me if you feel his techniques aren't working for you. I will also be keeping a close eye on him. But until something like that occurs, I have no grounds for firing him from the position, and it would be wrong of me to do so."

By the end of the speech, even Ko looks deflated. "What about Asuma-jii? He's had shinobi training, right? He could train us," I say in a desperate, last-ditch effort to avoid having to see Ebisu again.

Jiji gives me one of his Looks. "Asuma is not even an active duty ninja," he reminds me.

I sigh. "... I still don't like him," I grumble, giving in... for now.

Jiji smiles a little. "You don't have to. Trust me when I say that you won't like every teacher you'll ever have, Naruto-chan. That goes for both of you," he adds, looking over at Ko, who lifts his head up reluctantly. "But that doesn't mean you can't learn from them. Let's just give it another shot, okay? Keep in mind, he hasn't even done anything yet."

He pauses to let us digest that for a moment. "Now," he finally finishes, standing up, "why don't you two go get Sanken for dinner, hm?"

Ebisu stands over us primly the next day, his face blankly composed. "Now," he says, "I have reviewed your previous teacher's training with you, and while I feel we should continue your training plans the same way for now," he says, nodding to Ko, "you are old enough to be doing a little something more." He nods to me. He is actually looking me in the eye today. I have to wonder if Jiji said something to him.

"So, you will stop doing the swimming, balancing, and strength-building exercises. You will still stretch and meditate with the Honored Grandson before each session, as I feel it's a good habit to get into. But your body has been trained in the basic ways of swimming, balancing, and exercise endurance to a sufficient extent already, and based on your performance yesterday, I don't feel you can get much more from the exercises. Therefore, you will exchange those basic exercises for some chakra exercises, in addition to continuing your basic taijutsu exercises and aiming drills. As your previous teacher requested so in his notes, I will also attempt to start teaching you the art of senbon. An actual taijutsu style will be postponed until you start at the Academy."

Despite myself, I begin to feel the stirrings of excitement at all these new things.

Ko feels entirely different. "Why don't I get all these new exercises?" he complains, again in a way that seems like he's purposefully trying to antagonize the teacher.

Ebisu's voice drops some of its formality and becomes almost greasy. "Your body is still a bit underdeveloped yet, Honored Grandson. If you work hard and follow all my instructions, however, you might even start chakra training sooner than the... Honored Granddaughter... did." I think only I may have noticed the slight pause before the title.

I run in the front door, waving goodbye to Cat-Megumi as she leaves the mansion grounds. I am just back from another dancing session, flush with the excitement and relief I've come to associate with the dancing phase of my etiquette lessons. I sprint past Aya, who is polishing the hall floor. "Hi, Aya!" I shout as I go sliding past.

"Be careful, Naruto-san, don't slip!" she calls back.

I run upstairs, ducking my head into Ko's room as I pass. "I'm back, Ko! Let's go outside, okay?"

He looks up, the bored, sullen, lonely expression disappearing from his face in a cloud of excitement. He nods eagerly.

I go upstairs to gather my gardening tools, because I also promised Sanken that I would help him outside today. I fix my tank top and put my hair up in a ponytail, then I join Ko to leave for the mansion's grounds.

It is a bright, sunny day, with a cool breeze marking the beginning of spring. Sanken is walking out of his cottage door as we run around to the back of the grounds. "Flower season!" I call out to him, my voice carrying along on the wind.

"More work for me!" Sanken calls back, but his expression is pleased as he gazes out over the grounds in anticipation of the beauty to come. Sanken loves more than anything to see his work bear fruit. I think I can understand that. I can't wait to see my trellis once all the plants on it really start to grow and bloom. Finally, all my painstaking hours will really pay off.

Ko bumps my arm, his face shining with a new excitement. "Asuma-jii's coming over today, right?" he asks. He's been saying that all morning.

"For the tenth time today, yes," I reply. "Aya will probably show him out here while we're out here."

He beams in satisfaction, not looking at all abashed about his nagging, then takes my hand and pulls me toward the big oak tree by the pond.

There is sunlight on my face, the wind in my hair, and I'm starting to think I might be okay after all.

I'll survive.

Author's Notes: Another transition chapter. Not much going on, just Naruto recuperating and adjusting. Not much Asuma in this chapter either. Don't worry, he will actually have dialogue next chapter.

I don't like this chapter very much. Maybe it's because nothing's going on in it? Maybe it's because I'm not in a very good mood in general? I'm not sure. I do tend to be more critical of myself when I'm in a bad mood... whatever.

Any comments/critiques are greatly appreciated.