"Beyond Hearts and Minds"
I do not own Naruto. I do not own Potamos. I do not own any great quantity of money or property. I'm a STUDENT; that's why I'm poor, okay?
It's already late in the evening, but to those who celebrate it in Japan: Happy Girl's Day! The third day of the third month!
"Quotations"
'Thoughts'
(( Flashback ))
Chapter 37: New Family
Hinata's fists crumpled, giving a vague shield over her forehead. "Please, don't..."
This made the old woman even more concerned. "What is it?"
Hinata fumbled for an explanation. "My face... It's — it's hideous!"
The pharmacist moved away Hinata's sweating fists. She eyed the girl critically. "There is nothing wrong with your face, dear." She re-tightened the bandages on the girl's head, although more loosely than what they had started out as. "But if you're injured, we can look closer at it in the village. You can buy new makeup later."
The pharmacist leaned back onto Hinata. The girl resumed the walk, stunned. As they neared the village, the word churned in Hinata's mind: makeup?
Hinata was not wearing makeup. Nor had she ever worn it, for that matter. She had experimented with a bit of her mother's lipstick once (she wiped it off as soon as she saw how ridiculous it looked on her), but no hard-core powders had ever touched her cheeks. Did this nice, elderly pharmacist imply that Hinata needed makeup?
"What is your name?" the woman asked.
"Ah, um... Hinata."
A pause. The old woman waited, as if expecting something more. Hinata looked away.
The old woman blinked, and turned back down to the ground with a wry smile. It was understandable that Hinata did not want to reveal her family name. Runaways, especially those who had escaped difficult families, were naturally inclined to stop using them. "My name is Taketori Natsumi," she said, bringing light back into the atmosphere. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
"N-no, the pleasure is all mine!" Hinata said quickly.
Villagers stared as the odd pair walked the streets: a lamed pharmacist with a foreign girl. As the glances increased in number, Hinata slowly became self-conscious of her appearance. Bits of dirt and moss littered her clothes, and she did not even know how her hair looked like with the bandages. She could not glance at her reflection in a window pane, for there was no such thing in this village. Glass was a substance foreign to the old buildings.
Perhaps lack of a mirror was a good thing. Hinata was not tempted to stop walking until she reached the pharmacy. Any villager with whom she crossed ways kept looking after her, the stranger that she was. Hinata just hoped that there were no ninja here who sought the Byakugan.
Wait... Technically, Hinata did not have to worry about that anymore. At least, not as much as she used to. If any shinobi interested in the Byakugan killed her, her head would already be sealed. The worse scenario was if the enemy captured her alive, and tortured her for information.
'Death would actually be a better option,' Hinata realized. 'Because once my life-stream stops flowing, the cursed seal would begin to disintegrate my eyes and brain matter, making my corpse useless to them. If I'm dead, my family's safe.' Her pale eyes sharpened in determination. 'That means if I'm captured and kept alive, I'll have to fight all the harder. They'll still try to find the secrets of the Byakugan by other means.'
Hinata swallowed, trying not to angst over what 'other means' would mean. It would accomplish nothing except to drive her insane. She had to invest her mental strength in learning pharmaceuticals, and develop small battle strategies. Maybe she could train her taijutsu at night.
The wooden slabs of the front gate slid open before Hinata's eyes. Hinata looked up for a brief moment, and saw a decaying wooden sign of the roof. The kanji were fading on its darkening background, but still somewhat legible. -Apothecary-
'A little rustic,' Hinata thought. 'But nice.' Once inside, she saw a second wooden fence, separating one corner of the property. It held a mysterious crack of gray, a color made Hinata wonder what exactly was behind it.
The two women stepped into the genkan, the small area of the house entrance where shoes and umbrellas were left.
"I'm home!" the elderly women called into the small hallway. She waited a moment. She sighed at the lack of an answer, and turned to Hinata. "My husband is probably asleep." Hinata only nodded in response, and leaned down to assist the limping woman to take off her shoes. "Oh, no," the woman said, "Just let me sit on the edge. You do the same."
Hinata complied, letting the old woman down first. Immediately afterwards, Hinata found herself sitting on the clean, upraised floor of the hallway, while her legs dangled over the stone-floor of the genkan. Taking off her sandals felt like having the very ocean wash her feet; the air felt so clean through her sweaty toes.
Hinata turned her head, and saw that Natsumi was already waiting for her. The geta-shoes of wood that she wore outside were easy to slip off.
Hinata hurried to step up. "I'm sorry!"
"No, no. Take your time. You're the guest."
As Hinata walked the small corridor with the pharmacist's arm over her shoulder, she carefully studied the architecture. It was a rather small place, with a cramped hallway, and gnarly carvings upon the posts. The fusuma sliding-doors were tan with age, yet clean. Extremely clean. Not a speck of dust touched them.
The two walked towards another room. Separating it from the main hallway was not a door, but a hanging cloth with a long slit in the middle. Hinata lightly pushed it away, and entered with Natsumi at her shoulder.
An old man with silvery hair slept, curled up against a kotatsu — a table with a heated furnace underneath, and long trimming of blankets. He started awake at the unexpected entrance. He gave a toothy yawn, and welcomed his wife back. "Oh, Natsumi, welcome back." He squinted at the crunched-together pair. "You look awfully blown up..."
Natsume sighed. Her nimble fingers picked a pair of glasses from the kotatsu's table-top. The instant she set the glasses upon her husband's nose, he started away from Hinata. "A-A young girl?"
"This is Hinata," Natsumi introduced. "She will be our assistant from now on, and receive food and lodging." Not even giving her husband a chance to protest, she turned to a worried-looking Hinata. "We cannot pay you much in hard cash, but we do have a guest room you can use. I'm sorry for the narrow hallways."
"No, you show me too much kindness." Hinata found her index fingers twiddling once more. She forcefully clamped her hands together, and looked up. "I will do my best to prove myself useful." Still not convinced that she was completely welcome in the house, she set her hands upon the floor, and bowed her head all the way to the ground. "Please, Ojii-sama, Obaa-sama — take good care of me!"
The old man first seemed amazed at Hinata. Then his eyes immediately softened. "Now, now. Sit up." His face showed that he was impressed, even embarrassed, of her presence in his home. "I am Taketori Murashi. You are welcome in my house. Ah, it's been a while since I've taken up a worthy apprentice." He saw the nervousness in Hinata's face, and chuckled. "I am sure you will do fine. Natsumi would not have invited just any girl over."
"Hinata, could you help me cook dinner?" Natsumi asked.
"Ah, yes!" The blue-haired girl stood up, leaving the old man to nod off at the kotatsu. Hinata followed the old woman Natsumi to the kitchen, carrying the basket of fresh herbs with her. "Obaa-sama, what about your ankle?"
"The pain is not as bad. I manage by limping." Soft, gentle lines crinkled across the old woman's face as she smiled. "It's probably nothing, but I'll have Murashi take a look at it when he sleeps off his cold."
Hinata walked into the kitchen, amazed at its cleanliness. It was a very tiny enclosure, not even spanning a fifth of the Hyuuga kitchen. But it was so tidy that it was pretty. The dishes stood in the rack, the rags had been boiled, wrung, and set in their respective areas, and the sink was clean and dry. Pharmacists truly were the professional neat-freaks of society.
"Put a large pot of water on the stove, will you?" Natsumi began to wipe the table in preparation for work. "Tonight we're having curry."
Hinata heard a slight tap from the hallway. She turned quickly, only to see a fluttering piece of cloth disappearing into the dark hallway.
"What is it, Hinata?" Natsumi asked.
"Nothing." Hinata shivered. 'Did I just see a pair of eyes?' The dark-haired girl suddenly had an image of Naruto's blue eyes, sadder than she had ever seen them to be. She pulled out a large pot, and set it in the sink to fill it with water. Hinata twisted the knob on the sink rather forcefully. 'Oh, gods...' Hinata felt her eyes welling up. 'No, not now! Not in front of my hostess...'
As the water filled the pot, Hinata realized that the light above was being blocked by her head. She shifted herself to the side, and a clearer image of her face came into view. A mirror.
Her eyes immediately locked onto the bandages of her forehead. Curiosity jumped within her. It dulled the longing that she held for her home, at least for the moment. She reached up, and began to hesitantly tug at the gauze with her pinky finger.
"Hinata, Don't touch your bandages while cooking!"
In surprise, Hinata almost tipped the full pot of water over. Natsumi took it out away from the running faucet, and set it on an active burner. An embarrassed Hinata stopped the water. The old woman then grabbed Hinata's wrist, and began to pull her towards another room. "Let's going to the check-up room to examine you — oof!"
"Obaa-sama!" Hinata managed to catch her from a tough fall. "Are you alright?"
"Oh... Thank you, dear child." Natsumi put a hand over her beating heart for a moment. After a deep breath, she gently pushed herself off Hinata. "I started walking too fast." She started again, this time more slowly.
Once in the nursing room, Hinata plopped down on the tatami. She watched as Natsumi rummaged through bottles of solutions and jars of cotton. The old woman seemed to be fighting pain as she fished out the basic materials.
The kunoichi suddenly had an idea. While the old woman was distracted with finding the right bottles, Hinata folded her hands through several In.
'Byakugan!'
Her vision plunged into a world of blues and grays. Her bloodline limit was still in proper function. Hinata zoomed in on the weak ankle of her hostess. The bones in Natsumi's ankle were all in correct position, and had no fractures. The density of the bone seemed a bit lighter than average: 'Maybe a little osteoporosis,' Hinata guessed. In any case, it really was just a sprain.
"Ah, here we go!" Natsumi turned around, in which time Hinata quickly let down her veined eyes. The pharmacist limped over, and began to tenderly unwrap the bandages from Hinata's head. While her left hand held a pincer with an alcohol-soaked cotton, Natsumi's right hand fingered through the dark-blue hair, looking for any wounds that might have reopened. "Does it hurt anywhere?"
"No — Nowhere." Hinata allowed herself to relax under her hostess' care. The last person she remembered someone touching her head so softly had been her mother, back when she was three years old. "I have a little headache, but it's nothing much."
"If that headache lasts into the night, tell me." The pharmacist took a minute more to completely examine Hinata's head. "You have a goose egg on the right side. And there seems to be some sort of rash on your forehead. Do you need a mirror?"
Hinata blinked, as a mirror was held before her. She took it. She put a hand over her mouth, refraining from crying out.
There was no seal on her forehead. Her head was totally clean.
'Father... He didn't seal me...' If there had been any relief at the beginning of the discovery, it was quickly overwhelmed with dismay. 'How... how could he?' Hinata inwardly cried. 'He said he would protect the clan!'
Natsumi looked curiously at the girl's shaking form. "What is it, Hinata?" The old woman gave a quiet gasp. "Did I touch a sensitive spot? I'm sorry!"
"No. My body is fine. Really..." Hinata quickly inhaled, disguising her sob to sound more like a breathing exercise. "I'm sorry, Obaa-sama," she said in a quavering voice. "It's just that everything has been so sudden for me today."
"I'll put these back," Natsumi said, the jars clinking in her arms.
Hinata weakly nodded. Her eyes could not leave the mirror. Not only was she confused at Hiashi's decision to refrain from giving her the cursed seal of the caged bird, but there also was a slight alteration to her appearance.
The eye color was the same, pale lavender. But the shape of her eyes appeared more prominent and angular. The Priestess looked more closely: the texture of her eyelids was to be coarser, darker. She partially closed one eye, almost winking. To her amazement, it looked like a pattern of frilly tattoos were painted on her eyelids.
'It's a seal,' Hinata realized. 'Not the seal of the Caged Bird... but it's a seal.'
It was a seal on her eyelids, in other words. As Hinata blinked, she realized that it looked like she was wearing eye shadow. 'No wonder Natsumi-obaasan said I could buy more makeup if I wanted to. She thought it was powder, not a cursed seal.' The kunoichi could not help but grimace a little. It looked so unnatural and silly on a girl like her.
Hinata set down the mirror. "I don't think I need any bandages, Obaa-sama." She looked up to Natsumi. "Could I look at your ankle, for a moment?"
"Oh, that's unnecessary—"
"I want to help." Hinata knew that she sounded disrespectful, insisting upon doing medical work upon a licensed pharmacist, her obvious superior. But Hinata was determined to not be a burden in the house of her hostess. "Please, Obaa-sama."
Natsumi looked at the pleading, yet stubborn, expression on Hinata's face. The old woman could not help but sigh in resignation. She twisted her body so that her feet were near Hinata. Hinata rested Natsumi's swollen ankle on her lap, and picked up the old but clean bandages that once laced her own forehead.
"Please close your eyes."
The old woman felt a bit foolish as she did as she was told. If Natsumi had been twenty years younger, she might have even felt insulted. In terms of senior-junior relations — grandparent-to-grandchild, or master-apprentice, whatever they were — Hinata was doing the exact opposite.
Hinata briefly turned her Byakugan once more. She saw the tenketsu, the bone structure, just long enough to remember how to properly bandage a foot. Bandaging a sprain was to keep it from moving, after all. The veins receded in her cheeks, and Hinata began to work.
In no time at all, Natsumi's foot was in a stiff yet safe bandage. The pharmacist opened her eyes, and sat up. She tested the quality of the wrap, moving her foot a little. "This... is an excellent job, Hinata," she complimented, meaning every word.
The blue-haired kunoichi felt her cheeks warm. "It's the little I can do."
Hinata began to twist the jar's cap back on. She then stopped. It felt like a chill crept down over her back. The girl looked quickly behind her. The door was slightly open, showing a line of the dark hallway.
Natsumi gave a half-hearted smile at the door. "Oh, what a shy one."
Hinata looked at her. "What?"
"Never mind." The old woman got up on her own, and hobbled towards the door. "Let's start chopping the vegetables for dinner, shall we?"
Sasuke folded his hands, studying his subject.
Sitting next to him in the Ichiraku Ramen bar was Naruto. A quiet, non-smiling entity, who was eating his ramen noodles without so much as an audible slurp. In Sasuke's opinion, the sight was both fascinating and disturbing.
Even the owner and his daughter had to stare, as Naruto lifted the bowl, drank the rest of the broth, and set it quietly back on the stool. Naruto was being excessively civilized, at a commoner's restaurant where slurping was not only tolerated, but hoped for by the owner as a compliment to his cooking. Naruto was acting like a stiff, quiet, and depressed gentleman.
"Oji-san," Sasuke said to the chef, "one more bowl for him." He indicated Naruto.
"Oh — yes, of course." The owner quickly went to work, ladling the broth, dumping the noodles, and arranging the cooked meats and vegetables on top. He set the fresh bowl in front of a blank-eyed Naruto. "The extra pork is on us!"
Naruto stared at the bowl. He raised up his head, and gave a smile. "Thanks, Occhan!"
When the two ramen-cooks turned around with relief, Naruto dropped the fake grin. He picked a little at the steaming ramen with his chopsticks. He pulled up one noodle with his lips, and chewed. Good taste, as always. He did not feel hungry for a second bowl, but he felt obligated to show a bit of thanks for the freebie.
"Take your time," Sasuke said.
Naruto nearly groaned. He needed a break from eating. His stomach felt full anyway, and people were fussing over him. He set his chopsticks over the bowl of ramen, and leaned back in his chair. Naruto knew that his mind was in a muddled blank. What annoyed him was that it was noticeable. Was he that much of a wreck that everybody, even Sasuke, was treating him in an unnaturally nice manner?
Sasuke decided to get to the main subject. "Hey, Naruto. About the Hyuuga family..."
"What?"
"What that Hiashi said. Don't you think it a bit strange?" Sasuke looked for a reaction in Naruto. Naruto gave him nothing. "He said 'a cursed seal', but he never said 'that cursed seal'."
"Is there a difference?" Naruto's chopsticks played around with a jagged slice of fishcake.
Sasuke paused. His black eyes looked dull for a brief instant. He touched the right side of his neck. "There are different types of cursed seals."
Naruto noticed the grimace on Sasuke's face. The blond then realized that Sasuke was clutching the place where Orochimaru's curse-seal had once been. Naruto began to rise from his chair. "Don't tell me that it still—"
"Sit down," the Uchiha ordered. "I'm fine. What we're thinking of is Hyuuga." He let go of his neck, and folded his hands. "Maybe..."
The guttural sound of a chair stopped Sasuke from saying anything more. A new customer was entering the ramen bar. The two chuunin looked up, and their faces changed into those of disgust and horror. Naruto backed away from the entrant, and Sasuke merely looked in the opposite direction.
"What are you doing here, Bastard?" Naruto demanded Sai, who casually pulled off his ANBU mask to reveal another faked appearance.
"Hey, Dickless Wonder." Sai pulled out some papers from his jacket. He noticed the silent annoyance in the aura of Sasuke. "Still brooding over your failure to get into ANBU, Traitor?"
Sasuke refrained from even twitching. Like a cat ignoring a human, he kept his face turned away from the foul-mouthed ninja. If Naruto hated Sai for looking like Sasuke too much, Sasuke hated Sai for looking like the earlier Itachi too much, back when his brother had been all perfect, in ANBU, and had hair kept at a civilized length.
"What are you doing here?" Sasuke asked, succeeding in looking bored.
Sai kept the gentle smile of plaster. "Can't a member of the ANBU eat his dinner among commoners without being molested?"
"I'm not hungry anymore," Naruto said, getting up. Sasuke silently agreed, and pushed his bowl away.
"Good, the air was stuffy anyway with your presence." Sai waved the wad of papers in front of his face like a fan. "Now I can study these papers concerning Ugly in peace."
Naruto and Sasuke stopped. They could neither ignore this, nor pretend to. Among all the nicknames that Sai distributed with ruthless abandon, even they knew that his term 'Ugly' was for one of the least ugly ninja of the Leaf.
"That's info on Sakura-chan?" Naruto was right behind Sai's shoulders, and grabbed after the papers. "Show me!"
A feint hint of a sneer appeared on Sai's lips as he wrenched the papers out of Naruto's hands, and waved them in the air like a paintbrush on canvas. "No. These are official reports." He paused, and feigned mild surprise for the fact that the reports were gone from his hands again. The ANBU-member turned to see Sasuke reading them. Sai snatched them back, and gave a hard look over the chuunin. "I had thought for a moment, Traitor, that you were going to run off with them."
'You were hoping that he'd run off with them, you mean,' Naruto thought. Sasuke was under some official 'guidelines' after performing that kick up the ANBU-trainer's jaw, and Sai knew it well as a member of the elite organization.
"Those papers are meaningless to me," Sasuke said, his voice cold and decisive. In the manner of a heartless warlord, he departed.
Naruto could only stare after him. Sasuke's most recent statement chipped away at the blond's stubborn head. 'WHAT?'
"Vegetarian salt ramen to go," Sai requested smoothly to Ayame, the ramen chef's daughter. He rolled up the papers, as Naruto disappeared and ran after Sasuke. He put a few fingers to his chin in thought.
Meanwhile, Naruto was walking after Sasuke. "What the hell do you mean, those papers don't mean anything to you?" the blond hissed in anger. When no answer was given to him, Naruto tried to figure out what the silence meant. Slowly, sometime akin to comprehension passed his face. "You'd only call those meaningless if—"
Sasuke turned, and glared at Naruto. "Shut UP."
The anger rekindled in Naruto, and for a different reason. "You... That's means for a while, you've had info on —"
"Sorry for interrupting the touching love scene," Sai said, reappearing from the shadows with a package of takeout ramen under one arm, "But I'm putting you two under arrest for illegally attempting to seize classified information."
"We're not gay!" Naruto had no problem with gay people, but the rumors about him and Sasuke seemed to be getting a little out of hand, as if the stories never died. "And WHEN did we try to seize classified information, huh?"
Sasuke rolled his eyes. "When we touched the papers, of course," he reminded the hyperactive blond.
"Manipulating asshole," Naruto growled at the merrily grinning Sai. No wonder the ANBU-member's speed and grip had been so weak: he had wanted Naruto and Sasuke to grab the papers, so that he in turn could have some excuse to get them into trouble. "But is that really enough to warrant arrest?" Naruto asked.
Sai ignored Naruto, for the blond was doing what he wanted: staying. He did not necessarily like the babble that came out of Naruto's mouth, but what counted was that the hyperactive ninja stood in one place. Meanwhile, Sai's other target was trying to avoid the question altogether.
"Don't walk away, Uchiha," Sai called after the figure walking away. "Hey. Traitor." With only a sliver of a crescent moon illuminating them, Sai's expression was unreadable, and his voice had a stronger hint of urgency. "It's in your best interest if you cooperate with the search mission."
Sasuke stopped in his tracks. "Search?" He turned slightly, and glared at Sai from the corner of his red eye. "Are you still that optimistic about finding Sakura?" He spat out the name, as if it were something disgusting. "Or is it Hyuuga Hinata?"
"We have only a little information about the former," Sai admitted, "and less about the latter, since her disappearance is so recent."
"Then go away," Sasuke said.
Naruto felt his innards clench. Now, even he was getting uncomfortable with Sasuke's bitter resolve to keep things to himself. Sasuke appeared to be hiding something, and Naruto was now very sure it had to do something with Sakura's whereabouts. The main problem? Sasuke was willing to share it to no one. Either that, or he really was giving up on finding her, which Naruto sincerely hoped was not the case.
As Sasuke kept on walking, Sai took out a scroll. The ANBU-member studied its label, glancing briefly at Sasuke. "Maybe," Sai muttered, "a binding jutsu of the second level..."
Naruto exploded at both of them. "You Bastard!" he yelled at Sai. "If you want somebody as an ally, ask politely first, not attack him!" The blond then turned to Sasuke. "Sasuke, whatever info you're holding about Sakura, you'd better hand it over now! At least to me — we can just knock this guy out if you don't want to work with him!"
"I don't want to be lectured by you on manners," Sai said coolly to Naruto. He hid any indication that he was slightly impressed with the observation skills of the blond ninja. Both Sai and Sasuke had been trying to weasel more information concerning Sakura's whereabouts out of each other — and Naruto saw right through both of them, like a shrewd comedian taking apart society. 'For all I know, that moronic facial expression could be just a façade, like mine.'
The ANBU-member turned back to Sasuke, who now stood still in his tracks. Sai was half-expecting the avenger to attack him. Not that he was not worried for his own safety.
"Well?" Sai again lifted up the wad of papers, the leftover-but-still-edible bait. "Do we put together our reports, and go get the Hokage's permission?"
Hinata twisted within the folds of her blanket. She felt agitated. The guest room she had been given was small and cozy. But the unfamiliarity of it, jumbled with the events of the past two days, just made Hinata on edge more than she was used to. She was physically exhausted, but too paranoid to afford falling asleep just now.
She sat up from her futon bed. Natsumi had layered the otherwise traditional, on-the-floor bed with many clean sheets, claiming that the futon had been too long in the closet and thus had to be covered for the first night. Hinata suspected that Natsumi was trying to pamper her.
Lying on her back, Hinata folded her hands together. She performed the seals, activating her Byakugan with impassive consciousness. The kunoichi felt the flesh around her eyes swell with blood.
Her vision drifted to the south side of the house. The old couple slept peacefully in their room. The pharmacy's storage area was safely locked and bolted. Hinata shifted her sight to the east.
Hinata's eyes froze over one area: specifically, the yard. It was a wide-spanning rock garden, surrounded by the second wooden fence she had seen earlier. 'I didn't know the pharmacists were so much into Zen.' Hinata surveyed the raked lines on the thicket of pebbles. It was very monochrome, with only the gray stones and their shadows providing color — but the arrangement of stones, the raked lines, revealed much variety within such a common medium of art. 'Do they own this privately? Usually only Buddhist temples have rock gardens.'
Before she knew it, Hinata felt the corner of her eyes begin to twitch. It was a signal that her eyes were strained from the extended use of the Byakugan. She must have been contemplating too long on the garden, and dazed out like in a true meditation. She slowly backtracked her advanced vision, remembering that turning the doujutsu abruptly on and off would only fatigue her eyes.
Her vision stopped at one room, however. There was a weakly glowing dot of blue, in a room of the east wing. Hinata focused, ignoring the pleading of her eyes for rest.
Hinata froze. There was a PERSON there. Someone besides her and the Taketori couple was in the house.
Forgetting all details of her current physical state, Hinata stood up from her futon. She placed a kunai in the sleeve of her yukata, just in case she did not have enough chakra to use Jyuuken effectively. Hinata slid her door open with absolute care and silence. Using the movements that had been ingrained into her since childhood, she toed her way soundlessly to the east room.
The veins around Hinata's eyes spread once more. The figure was sitting against the wall, head tilted towards the open window, as if contemplating the moon. From the body structure, it was definitely a man. His face was difficult to make out because of her blurring vision — she could not hold the Byakugan for no more than a minute now — but for some reason, he appeared very familiar to Hinata.
Hinata stopped. She gripped the kunai in her sweaty hand, holding it behind her back.
She reached for the crevice in the door, and slid it open.
The figure looked up at the unexpected visitor. His eyes were piercing, intensely blue in color. In the minimal light that the crescent moon gave off, his jagged hair shone silver. Yet his face was as smooth and young as someone of Hinata's age.
He gave a weak smile to Hinata, as if embarrassed that she had discovered him. He tugged the right side of his yukata back up, which until now had been open, exposing part of his bare chest.
The dark-haired kunoichi stood frozen, her mouth slightly open in shock. The boy had no scars, but the haggard depths in his cheeks were similar enough to the facial marks held by the precious one Hinata had left in Konoha. It had to be an illusion, she thought.
It came out in a spontaneous, painful whisper. "Naruto-kun?"
Just as she had said it, Hinata clutched a fist to her chest. Embarrassment welled in her. Of course this person was not Naruto — Naruto was all the way back in Konoha! She was also slightly afraid that this person was a burglar of sorts, and would try to attack her. Her chakra was low, and that left her with only the kunai in her hand. Well, he did not really look like a burglar; he was only in his yukata, and barefoot...
Suddenly, Hinata felt a cold hand on her cheek. The stranger was touching her face. For some reason, her body could not move. Not to mention, she felt stupid. Why did she think so much about Naruto that her eyes did not keep up with the person in front of her?
Hinata recoiled. The silver-haired boy looked at her, his face terribly close to hers. A hint of sadness was in his eyes. "This 'Naruto-kun'... who is he? Is he your fiancé?"
This question knocked the breath out of Hinata. "Ah, uh..." Sweat formed on her brow. She was beginning to think that this person was no burglar. But his physical closeness certainly did not help erase her fear. No matter how much he looked like Naruto, Hinata was afraid of him. Why was he in the house? And why was he asking such an outrageous question? Her heart thudded as he stared at her. Hinata could not find herself to attack him, despite the unwelcome proximity.
"...Get out."
Hinata blinked. "Huh?" She realized, only now, of her rudeness in not answering a question when it was stated. It had often irritated her father, who wanted answers straight away in a professional manner. "I'm sorry — but — who are you?"
"Get OUT!" the platinum-haired boy snarled. He shoved Hinata back. With a squeak, she tripped into the hallway. He slid the fusuma-door with an angry shut, leaving her shaken and utterly confused.
Hinata put a hand to her ruffled, dark-blue hair. 'What... what was all that about?'
Notes:
"Taketori" - 'bamboo-cutter'.
If you have questions, comments, or suggestions, please tell me! If I suck, by all means tell me. In an intelligent manner.