Author's Note: Did you know...that with this update, Curiosity and the Copycat is now officially longer than Lee Harper's To Kill a Mockingbird? And we're not even to the quarter of the way point? *bangs head against desk repeatedly*
Ahem. Answer to last chapter's question(s): Yes. Yes it was absolutely worth the wait. I love writing Gai and Takara interactions, and next chapter is going to be full of them with Takara's long-awaited challenge. As for how many masks Kakashi has...I'mma say about 14 at least, one for each day of the week plus spares. I bet he even has some specifically for sleeping.
WARNING ...you guys are going to hate me by the end of this chapter. And not for any reason you're likely to think of.
Curiosity and the Copycat
...a Naruto fanfiction story...
Curiosity and the Copycat © Mx. Irony
Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto
Takara is a Bisexual Badass
chapter 14
Interview with the Leaf
"Culture makes people understand each other better. And if they understand each other better in their soul, it is easier to overcome the economic and political barriers. But first they have to understand that their neighbor is, in the end, just like them, with the same problems, the same questions."
Paulo Coelho
"How many masks do you even have, Hatake-san?"
She barely blinked and Kakashi was there, up close and towering over her. First, he covered her mouth - smothering any further thoughtless, idiotic words that could get her killed - and then he pushed her out of sight of Naruto's Anbu tail, into the shadows of the staircase. He pushed her against a wall, abrupt and sudden, inadvertently knocking her head against it, and pinned her there. All of this in a matter of seconds, so she couldn't process what was happening until it happened.
He saw it in her eyes when she realized, understood, what he did, what he was doing. He watched in real time - mere seconds - as Hinamori surmised what would happen next. Then she reacted.
There are three possible reactions to fear: fight, flight, or freeze. Everyone had a natural inclination towards any one of them. The Academy did well to quash the latter, leaving only fight or - if necessary - flight. A ninja who froze, who stopped, who stood still for even a second, was a dead ninja. A ninja who lived was one who fought, one who knew when to run.
Hinamori's natural response, Kakashi learned, was fight.
She thrashed underneath him. Foreseeing her kicks, Kakashi swept her ankles out from under her and lifted her from the ground. His forearm pressed down on her chest. She jerked her head away, grunting, and threw it forward in a failed headbutt. Kakashi easily dodged without breaking his grip. Teeth lashed out against his palm, almost catching his fingers. Kakashi squeezed her jaw in warning; if he used any more force, the fragile bone would break.
Kakashi let her struggle for a bit, enough for her figure out that there was no escape. This close, he felt the way her heart hammered against his arm and the warm gasps against his palm, the vibrations from her muffled shouts. Her nostrils flared, breathing heavily. She glowered at him, snarling something inaudible. With this reaction, Kakashi was thankful he volunteered to retrieve Hinamori personally. Other Leaf nin, even those softer on civilians, would not have been so patient and understanding.
Suddenly she stopped. Hinamori squinted, peering through the eye holes of his Anbu mask.
"Are you done?" Kakashi asked calmly.
Hinamori didn't look away. In fact, her eyes only grew wider.
He leaned in close to her ear. She shuddered, pushing herself further against the wall as though to get away from him.
Kakashi spoke in a low rumble, voice like distant thunder. "I'm going to uncover your mouth. When I do, you will not scream. You will not shout. You will not speak any louder than a whisper. And only when I ask you a question. Understand?"
A pitiable whimper escaped her.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Hinamori. But you have to do exactly what I say." Kakashi pulled back to make eye contact. "Nod if you understand."
Slowly, hesitantly, she gave a jerky nod.
"Good girl." He moved his hand away. There were small red points where his had just been, not yet swollen but promising eventual bruises.
Pale and terrified, Hinamori stared up at him helplessly. Her bottom lip trembled. Like he told her to, though, she didn't make a sound.
Wordlessly, Kakashi used his now free hand to remove the Anbu mask. He peered down at her stoically, Sharingan bright in the darkness of the stairwell. The dojutsu picked up more details: the barely there freckles across her nose, loose tendrils of blond intermingled with fiery orange, bands of green wrapped around dilated pupils. He noticed Hinamori's own eyes on the Sharingan, tracing over the long scar sliced through his eye and watching the tomoe swirl as he himself took her in. The sight of this new novelty seemed to calm her, curiosity alleviating her fear. Or maybe it was the familiarity of him without the Anbu mask.
"Now... how did you know it was me?" he whispered.
"I..." Her voice cracked. "It was...obvious?"
Expression neutral, Kakashi waited. The unspoken "how" was clear.
Hinamori swallowed. "The hair? Your voice? You always wear a mask anyways, so...it wasn't that much different."
Fair enough. He was often recognized in the field, even while operating within Anbu ranks, for similar reasons. If not as himself, at least by his father's own famous silver hair.
"I'm taking you to the Hokage."
"Why - ?"
Kakashi only had to narrow his eyes, Sharingan and natural-born both, for Hinamori to cut herself off. He continued, "When we get there, you will answer every question he asks. Otherwise, do not speak. The less you say, the better. Nod if you understand."
She could do nothing but nod.
In contrast to his earlier harsh movements, Kakashi gently lowered her to the ground. When she showed no sign of making a run for it, he slowly let her go and backed away a step. He paused when Hinamori suddenly reached out and grasped his wrist.
Kakashi looked down at that hand. It was warm, calloused from years of work, yet slender much like the rest of her.
Biting her lip, she softly asked him, "Will you be there?"
He slid the Anbu mask back in place. "As long as Hokage-sama allows it."
I'm going to die, Takara thought numbly as she walked up a long set of stairs. I am going to die. She briefly considered throwing herself out a nearby window, to at least have some say in how she died, but Hatake's deathly silent presence deterred such thoughts. With the metallic scent, it was like being followed by a ghost.
Takara knew her neighbor was a dangerous man but Hatake was different with this extra mask on, almost like another person.
Takara didn't like this person.
She didn't like this situation.
At least the Hokage's Residence was considerably less terrifying than she'd imagined. Less bones scattered in the corner and more boring, uninspired paintings fit for some hotel lobby. The circular hallways felt more like an office building or perhaps any lower government building. Compared to the rest of Konoha's structures, this one was older but certainly not the oldest building Takara had visited - a testament to how young Konohagakure really was.
Takara paused when she saw two figures ahead, both wearing similar masks to Hatake's. One was painted to resemble a wide-eyed cat, and the other had ears to match the fox painted on it. Completely immobile, they stood guard in front of a simple, unassuming door.
Unperturbed, Hatake walked around her to the door. She hesitantly trailed behind him, glancing uncertainly between the two guards. Neither of them moved...physically. Takara still felt their eyes on her, scrutinizing, like two birds of prey eyeing a mouse.
Suddenly, she felt it - a strange pressure building, building, almost suffocating her.
Takara flinched and stepped back from the door. She really, really did not want to go in there.
Hatake seemed to linger. Then he knocked.
Thankfully, somehow, the feeling dissipated. But Takara's panic did not. She thought back to the Hokage Mountain, trying to picture what the Third looked like. It was the Third, right? That's what everyone said. What happened to the Fourth? What would happen to her?
"Enter," a gravelly voice called.
I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die -
Hatake opened the door
I'm going to die...by an old man?
Takara stared. The revered Third Hokage was smaller than she expected, nearly swallowed by the loose robes he wore. His face was thin, lined with age, and covered in age spots. He didn't look up from the paperwork across his desk, continuously stamping them with a red-inked seal of the kanji for fire. Fascinated, Takara observed his hands: they were slightly bent and crooked, scarred, yet steady despite his advanced years.
"Greetings, Hinamori Takara."
"...good evening?"
"Please, have a seat. I'll be with you in just a moment."
This...this was the man who managed mission requests for assassinations, espionage, and theft. This was Konoha's strongest ninja, a man feared through the Five Great Shinobi Nations as the most power Kage in his generation. He looks like someone's little ol' grandpa.
As if sensing her less than frightfully respectful thoughts, Hatake nudged her sharply from behind. Takara jumped. Taking his cue, she stumbled forward and took a seat in the chair in front of the Hokage. The small creak it made at her added weight cracked like a whip in the otherwise silent room.
Eventually, the Hokage finished the small stack of papers. He leaned back in his chair, took out a curled wooden pipe, and added more tobacco leaves to it. He struck a match, the small crack making her jump. Observing her from under the wide-brimmed hat, the Hokage inhaled from his pipe.
"You can breathe, Takara-san. You're not in trouble." There was a humorous note in his voice.
Takara let out a breath she'd been holding, unintentionally releasing sigh. Her nose picked up the scent of black cherry tobacco. It was the same brand her uncle Nobuo used.
"Thank you for coming in such short notice," the Hokage said.
Like I had a choice.
"Um..." She could feel Hatake's heavy stare on her back. "You're welcome?"
This earned her a chuckle. "I've heard a fair bit about you in recent weeks, Takara-san."
Recent weeks…? Oh. Takara's eyes widened before her face turned carefully polite, interested. Her mind, however, spun.
"All good things, I hope," she said, conversational.
The corner of his mouth quirked, only offering, "Nothing bad."
Neither good nor bad, huh? Meaning you're still figuring me out. That's what this was, Takara realized: They wanted to know what her intentions were. It was like meeting a client for the first time or when two separate businesses came together. He did his research on her; now he wanted to meet her in person to verify his findings...whatever those were. If said findings spelled trouble, though, she wouldn't be in his office right. She'd be dead.
You have more in your favor than you first thought, Kara. Now you know why you're here, and they're still trying to figure you out. Treat this like a business meeting. The familiar territory made her relax slightly, gaining confidence.
"How are you liking our village so far? I hope you've found it welcoming."
Welcoming? Takara's eyes flashed. Any tail of hers would know that wasn't the case anymore, and now she understood exactly who was behind the tails in the first place. But to go all the way up to the Hokage? Naruto-kun, what is it about you that has even your Hokage keeping such a close eye on you?
Takara smiled demurely. "I like it very much, thank you, sir. The people here are very kind."
"I'm glad to hear that," the Third said after one second, a pause so brief that it could have easily been missed if Takara hadn't paid attention. Yeah, he definitely knows exactly how "welcoming" people have been lately. "We get the occasional newcomer from surrounding prefectures but rarely from as far as Aomori."
Takara already knew that he'd done his homework but hearing a stranger casually mention her home prefecture made her twitch.
"So what brought you to our humble village? A smart young woman such as yourself must have other options available to her."
Subtle flattery instead getting straight to the point. Meaning he doesn't want to get right into the heart of the matter: Naruto. What is he hiding?
"Well… It would take me years to travel to so many places. I thought why not go somewhere people were constantly coming and going. Even if it is a little like living vicariously through them." Takara shrugged lightly, smiling her most earnest smile. Part of the truth at least.
Was she imagining Hatake's heavy stare behind her, though? Takara wanted so badly to take a peak and try to gauge what was going on in that porcupine-head of his.
"Plenty of people do come through the village. You certainly won't want for interesting company."
Please get to the point.
"I imagine that meeting even some of our own clients could be a good opportunity for a young entrepreneur."
"Ah, really? I hope you're right."
He was, he most definitely was. With people like the daimyo's wife of all people frequently enlisting Leaf nin's services for trivial matters, Takara practically had a line of potential investors streaming in and out of Konoha everyday. Yet another reason for moving here.
"What sort of business are you interested in starting, Takara-san? Perhaps a store?"
Takara laughed softly. "Ah, no, sir. An actual store selling physical products would be a poor investment."
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? How so?"
"I'd either have to be prepared to risk the inevitable damages or sacrifice some of the profit for insurance. And I've seen too many people cheated by insurance companies after attacks."
The room suddenly became very quiet. The Third Hokage's face became impossibly still and behind her, Takara didn't hear any movement but she could sense a shift in Hatake's demeanor.
"Why do you believe an attack is imminent?" the Hokage asked carefully.
Shit.
"Isn't it - oh, wait. No. No. Not like that." Takara rubbed her face, embarrassed and increasingly horrified at the rising tension in the room. Either she recently developed a new hyper tendency for putting her foot in her mouth or ninja really were ridiculously paranoid. How did anyone have a regular conversation in this village? She needed to learn how to talk to them without sounding suspicious. Or is trying hard to not sound suspicious just all the more suspicious? Ugh.
"I'm sorry. That was poor wording on my part. And insensitive. I just assumed it was a given? At least it is in Aomori, what with all the border skirmishes and political upheaval between neighbors. I didn't think Konoha would be…" Takara faltered at how his eyes darkened. She cleared her throat. "Just looking around, this is probably the oldest building in the village, right? At just a hundred years, maybe a hundred and twenty."
Previous good humor gone, the Hokage took the pipe out of his mouth and blew a few smoke rings. "You're right that Konoha has had its own hardships. Even in times of peace and with our many allies, we must always remain cautious."
Times of peace? Takara decided to save that joke for her next visit home; it was outright hysterical coming from the Hokage. People in Aomori marked attacks on their calendars and made bets on the next one. Takara herself won a few.
In a show of humility, she bowed her head. "Still, that was rude of me. I'm sorry, sir."
He considered her. "Do you hold a grudge against the Leaf for previous damage done in Aomori?"
Now we're getting somewhere. Thankfully, this question was easy to answer: She was honest.
"No. I don't."
"You don't," he repeated skeptically.
"Who would I hold a grudge against? Everyone in this village born before a certain year? Everyone but the civilians? Just the military commanders? You?" Takara shook her head. "Who would I narrow it down to? It makes no sense to generalize an entire village. No, I don't have any kind of grudge against the Leaf. Or any other hidden village, really. I have other things to contend with."
The past was in the past. She didn't have time for such things now, not if she wanted to build a better future.
"Besides, aren't shinobi supposedly 'tools'?" Takara grimaced at the word, like ash in her mouth. She hated it - hated that any human being was referred to in such a way. It was repulsive. "Why would a deer hate the bow when it was the archer who aimed and made the shot?"
"And who do you suppose the 'archer' is?" the Hokage asked, straight-faced.
"Border disputes, greedy aristocrats, businesses making money off wars, court intrigue, decades-long feuds, mistrust between the Five Great Shinobi Nations," Takara rattled off.
Aomori's bloody history with ninja could be traced all the way to the Warring States Era when two rival clans fought in the fields at least once a week. Her great-grandmother had stories to tell. It wasn't like the war in her childhood was anything new.
"That's a lot of archers for one bow."
"There was more than one arrow," Takara said dryly. "But I'm just a farm girl, so what do I really know? I'm sure you have deeper insight that I would love to hear in a future conversation, but that's not why I'm here, is it?"
"Just a farm girl…" the Hokage muttered. "And why do you think you are here?"
Takara wondered if all of this was protectiveness over Naruto...or something deeper.
"Naruto-kun, right?" Seeing a flash of something in his eyes at the mention of the boy's name, Takara decided to bait a bit. "And whatever the village-wide secret is."
The mysterious pressure from before was nothing in comparison to what Takara felt then. Roaring to life, it caged Takara in. Paralyzing her. She choked.
Shit, shit, shit.
"Kara, you're going to get yourself killed."
Sucking in a sharp breath, Takara did what she did best: talk.
"There's no point in beating around the bush - it'd be a w-waste of time and I'm sick of talking in circles. I don't know anything about hidden village politics or whatever else is goin' on here, so why risk miscommunication when we could just come right out and talk about it? I'm not going to let a simple misunderstanding put my life in jeopardy - "
The pressure lifted.
Gasping, Takara sunk into the chair. Her hand went to her left clavicle. Village-wide secret, confirmed. Her brow furrowed. Looking at the Hokage now, he seemed less like a much-beloved grandfather and more like a man very much suited to the intimidating title of "Konoha's Strongest Ninja".
The Third Hokage regarded her stoically. "What do you think you know, Takara-san?"
"That..there's 'something', and that's it."
"What makes you think there's...'something'?"
Everything about this entire meeting.
"For one, the...whatever that thing was that you just did that made my life flash before my eyes." Takara winced. Beneath her hand, she felt her heart still pounding. "When I brought...'it' up."
She felt Hatake's eyes drill into the back of her skull. Frankly, Takara half-expected him to simply snap her neck at any second to spare the Hokage's time.
"But my first clue was how the villagers'...behavior changed in the last few weeks." And stories Naruto told me, she thought privately, but she wasn't about to throw the boy in front of the horse and cart all at once.
"They have been less than hospitable as of late," the Third said, perhaps the greatest understatement of Takara's life.
Taking a breath, Takara gathered her nerves. "Hokage-san."
He raised an eyebrow at the polite but oft unheard honorific, a step lower than "-sama". Takara didn't care to use it. She wasn't a citizen of Konoha, and she wasn't under this man's protection. There was no reason to pay him any more respect than the next person.
"I don't know what 'it' is nor do I care. Whatever it is," her expression hardened, voice turning into steel, "it doesn't excuse how Naruto-kun's been treated. And me knowing the reason wouldn't change the situation for him. Would it?"
If you're gonna kill me, Hatake-san, please make it quick.
"No, it wouldn't," the Hokage admitted. He leaned back in his chair, surveying Takara with an unreadable expression. "However, as I'm sure you've gathered, Naruto is a...sensitive topic within the village."
"And shouldn't ever be brought up outside it," Takara deduced.
"Quite. Because…"
"Because he's a minor and it would put his safety at risk if anyone were to talk about him outside the village," she finished.
Something like amusement crossed the Hokage's expression. "You're a clever girl, Takara-san."
"Thank you, sir. And you're understandably just very concerned about one of your constituents when a strange adult started talking to him, right?"
"Indeed." He actually smiled a little. It fell as soon as it appeared. "But there stands the question about whether or not that 'strange adult' is a trustworthy person. How do we know we can trust you, Hinamori Takara?"
Takara inhaled through her nose, then slowly exhaled. "You don't."
The Hokage raised his eyebrows. Takara took the fact that Hatake didn't immediately slit her throat as permission to continue.
"I'm an outsider," Takara said, looking the Hokage dead in the eye. "I have no prior connections here. No family, no friends, no colleagues. I'm not part of any clan. I have no real connection to this village. And I'm not loyal to it by any means. I have no reason to be. Honestly, I don't even understand what it means to be so dedicated to a place.
"But I do care about people that live here and I would never wish harm on anybody. Especially that little boy."
"...Thank you for your honesty, Takara-san. It's refreshing. And you're right. We don't know if we can trust you."
Oh, no. Takara started to sweat.
"But you're wrong about you not having friends in this village. Many people have vouched for your character. Some even took the initiative to come to me directly."
People really came forward...to speak up for me?
"Naruto himself has spoken highly of you."
"He has?"
This time, the Hokage openly smiled. "You're his new favorite person, it seems. I also want to personally thank you for standing up for him that day and every day since. I'm glad that he's found a kind adult to help guide him."
Nearly overwhelmed, Takara swallowed. "Me, too."
"That said…" His expression hardened.
Here it comes - I'm gonna die. Good-bye, beautiful, cruel world.
"You'll do well to maintain discretion about Naruto, especially in future correspondences. Understand that we'll continue to observe, so I would discourage any further...curiosity and not just in regards to Naruto."
"I…understand." I live?
The Third Hokage smiled like a benevolent shrine image. "It heartens me to hear that! Welcome to the Leaf Village, Takara-san. I hope someday you'll come to understand our 'dedication' to this village, perhaps even feel similar."
Light-headed, Takara bobbed her head.
"Thank you for spending your evening with an old man. I look forward to future conversations."
That grabbed Takara's attention. "F-future conversations?"
A heavy hand fell on her left shoulder. Takara jolted, having momentarily forgotten Hatake.
"Have a good evening, Takara-san."
"Ho-hokage-san, what future conversations?!"
Kicked out of the very office she was dragged to, Takara stood awkwardly outside the door. She briefly considered knocking again but the ominous presence of the two guards weighed in on her.
"Uh...so, is this a thing in the Leaf village?" she asked the guard with the cat mask.
Shadowed eye slits stared back at her wordlessly.
"R-right, I'll be on my way then...if that's okay. Okay?" Takara slowly backed away down the hallway. Only when she was out of sight did she turn around. Takara didn't quite run but she left very, very quickly. It was only when she was well out of the Hokage Residence and several blocks away did something else the Hokage said sink in.
...they've been reading my mail, too?!
Hiruzen leaned back in his chair, staring at the door after Takara was escorted out. He stroked his goatee. "You have quite the new neighbor, Kakashi."
The younger man knelt on the floor, head bowed. "Yes, sir."
Quite the neighbor, indeed. It was her kindness and naivety that got Hinamori Takara in trouble but it was also what saved her life in the end. Granted, Naruto also played a part. Iruka was particularly insistent about the mischief-maker's recently improved behavior. Hiruzen himself sought out Naruto's company prior to meeting Takara to inquire about the boy's new friend and saw a new light in those wide, blue eyes.
Hiruzen was sincere when he extended thanks for Takara's warm influence. It was good for the boy to have someone to cherish, someone to protect. Given jinchuurikis' tendencies towards sociopathy, spurred on by isolation and hostility, Naruto having someone to care for was not something Hiruzen took lightly. He hoped that Naruto's love for Takara would one day extend to the village as a whole.
Speaking of warm influence…
Hiruzen looked to Kakashi. Naruto isn't the only person who cares for her. As subtle as the copy nin was, Hiruzen caught on and found it...intriguing. This new development would be worthwhile to observe over the coming months.
"How do you think that went, Kakashi?"
Kakashi didn't look up, head still respectfully lowered and his eyes closed. "As well as one could expect of Hinamori."
Hiruzen chuckled. "You were spot on. She's naive but smart. She'll eventually pick up the...finer social cues that living in the village requires. When she does, she'll need to be watched even closer."
"Understood, Hokage-sama."
"Her chakra sensitivity is interesting, though. How did she react outside the office?"
"She flinched when you flared your chakra but didn't try to run. I think she recognized it when you used it again after she ran her mouth."
"Yes, I believe so. I'm surprised she was still able to speak afterward."
"She's stubborn," Kakashi said, unimpressed.
"Hm. Shame that such natural talent was wasted on a civilian," Hiurzen said thoughtfully, referring to her chakra sensitivity. That kind of raw potential was rare, as sensor-type shinobi often spent years studying chakra and developing their sensory technique. It wasn't often that anyone was born with it as intuitive to them and near unheard of among civilians hailing from civilian families.
Homura was wrong, Hiruzen thought. Hinamori Takara very well could add something to the village. Whether or not she ever realized her entrepreneurial ambitions, if Takara were to stay in Konoha permanently and have a family in the village, if the father of her children were a ninja….
"She can never know about the Kyuubi. I'll see to it that villagers are more...mindful of the law when they refer to Naruto. For your part, discourage any further questions and monitor her closely when the topic comes up. "
"Yes, Hokage-sama."
"And if she ever does learn the truth...I trust your judgment on how to proceed."
"I will see to it never comes to that, Hokage-sama."
"She is your responsibility now."
"Yes, Hokage-sama."
It was only fair, Kakashi thought. She saved his life, and now he saved hers.
A life for a life.
Takara didn't wonder if she had a tail; she simply assumed she did.
Takara also didn't care. She didn't care about being followed, that her neighbor had wordlessly threatened her, that she met the Hokage. She didn't care about their conversation or what it meant or could have meant or whatever internal village politics she stumbled into. Takara didn't care about Ogino or that it was almost midnight or that she was in an open hallway where any neighbor could randomly stumble in.
All she cared about was that she needed to hear her family's voices.
"Hullo?" a drowsy voice drawled. It took Takara a second to recognize it. When she did, she nearly started bawling because Hiraku's voice was starting to change and she missed him. She missed him, she missed him, she missed him so fucking much.
"H-hey, sleepyhead! Sorry I woke you up." Takara smiled, hoping the false cheer would translate into her voice.
"Kara-nee?"
She pressed the receiver closer, hot against her ear.
"Why are you calling so late?"
"No reason," Takara lied. "Just missed you, is all."
The boy yawned. "Miss you, too. But it's so late."
"I know, baby. I'm sorry."
"S'okay. I can still talk."
"Thank you, Hirakkun... You know I love you, right?"
"Yeah?"
"So much. I love you so much."
"Uuuh... I love you, too?"
Takara leaned her head against a wall, gritting her teeth to cage a sob crawling up her throat.
"You okay, Kara-nee?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," she said hoarsely.
"You don't sound fine."
"I am, darling. I'm fine. I just...I just had a nightmare and wanted to check in."
"Oh... Musta been a bad one."
Takara slowly exhaled. You have no idea.
"It's okay, Kara-nee. It was just a dream. Dreams can't hurt you."
Dreams can't. Shinobi definitely can.
She forced a throaty chuckle. "Yeah, you're right."
"D'ya wanna talk about it?"
"No. Ah, no. No, thank you, sweetheart. I just want to get my mind off it. Why don't..." Takara swallowed. Anything. I want to think about anything else. "Why don't you tell me about your day?"
"Notta lot to tell," he mumbled sleepily. It made Takara smile for real this time, unbearably fond. "Oh, hey, Hota-nii."
Takara's breath stilled. She heard the soothing rumble of Hotaka's voice on the other line, gentle yet scolding, as he asked Hiraku what he was doing up.
"'s Kara-nee. Said she had a nightmare."
"It's late, Hiraku. Go back to sleep."
"Whaddabout Kara-nee?"
"I got her."
Hotaka. Takara's eyes stun.
"Kara-nee?"
"Y-yeah, I heard."
"Mmkay. Love you, nee-san."
A tear slid down her cheek. "I love you, too, baby boy. Get some sleep."
"You, too. G'night."
"Good night," she whispered. Staring at the floor, Takara waited with baited breath.
So much - there was so much she wanted to tell him, so much she needed to ask. She wanted to know how their father was doing, how he was really doing. She wanted to know about the boys and their cousins and their uncle Nobuo. She wanted to know if any of the aunts came to visit, if that aunt came by. She wanted to know how Hotaka was, if he was alright. She wanted to know if her best friend was taking breaks, if he was taking care of himself, too, while taking care of everyone else. She wondered if he was lonely without her there, if he missed her as much as she missed him. She wanted to banter and argue over stupid things again, to trade sly jokes about their older cousins and hear his impressions of the aunties. She wanted tease him about his over attachment to the farm animals, even though she was the one who always volunteered to slaughter the chicken when it came time just so he didn't never had to. She wanted to listen to him gripe about everything that annoyed him. She wanted to hear his laugh again. She wanted to hear his voice. She wanted to actually talk to him. She wanted her big brother.
Finally, after months of silence: "What happened?"
"Hotaka."
"What. Happened."
She rubbed an eye. "Nothing."
"Not once in your whole life have you ever gone to anyone after a nightmare. Not even when you'd wake the whole house screaming from them. What happened?"
"I said it was nothing," Takara snapped.
A beat of silence.
"Then you don't need to call in the middle of the night."
"Hotaka, wait, I - "
Click.
After his debrief with the Hokage and discussing the finer details, Kakashi sought out his new "responsibility". He found her easily enough, catching her just outside her apartment window.
"A little late to be eating ramen, don't you think?"
"GYAAAAAAHHH!"
Hinamori would have tumbled off the roof if Kakashi hadn't caught her by the collar of her shirt. He saved her from a broken neck but unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for her meal. They both watched the styrofoam cup tumble to its untimely end, noodles flying out like ribbons and golden broth fanning out before it all hit the ground.
No words were exchanged.
Kakashi scratched the back of his neck. "...sorry about that."
Hinamori's head whipped around, ponytail nearly smacking him in the face. Through clenched teeth: "You owe me a new cup ramen,."
"Uh…" Those things barely cost more than the spare change in his pocket. She really is a cheapskate, huh? he thought, like a hypocrite, but he decided to placate her a bit. "Sure, alright. But first, let's have a little chat."
Hinamori nearly turned white underneath her tan. Then her eyes blazed a furious green at him, enough to intimidate a grocer but not so much an elite ninja. Kaskashi idly found himself trying to pinpoint the flecks of brown in them but it was too dark. Besides that, he noticed Hinamori "subtly" grip the one chopstick spared from its twin's fall.
"About what?" she asked lowly, shoulders tense. She curled away from him, leaning as far back as possible.
Eyeing her like he would a feral cat, Kakashi soothed, "Easy now. Why don't we go - ?"
Hinamori brandished the chopstick at him. "Nope, nope, notta 'appenin'!"
Ah. So this is what that grocer saw, Kakashi thought offhandedly.
"Ya caught me off guard last time - "
"And just now," he added.
She hissed. "Ya ain't draggin' meh ta anywheres this time! Already had enuffa likes of ya sort today."
Kakashi stared. Slowly, genuinely: "What did you say?"
Sucking her teeth, Hinamori forced herself calm enough to speak in a more neutral dialect. "I said, you don't get to drag me off twice in one day. I'm done."
"To be fair, neither of us have much say in that."
"Doesn't mean I'll go quietly this time! Come at me again, I dare you." She waved the chopstick at him like one would a stick at a rabid dog.
Kakashi's situation finally sunk in. This - this was his new responsibility to handle: A girl threatening ninja with a single chopstick.
"Relax. No need to panic."
Hinamori bristled. "Don't tell me what to do!"
"Hinamori."
"No!"
"I'm not taking you anywhere this time. Believe it or not, no one wants to see you this late at night."
She flinched. "No one but you apparently."
"Not really," he corrected. "But I'd rather not put this off and have to deal with it later."
Hinamori's eyes narrowed to slits. "'It' being me."
"Semantics. But yes."
"So you finally decide to come out and talk to me, huh. What happened to following me around, Stalker-san?" Hinamori demanded heatedly.
Very, very deliberately, Kakashi kept his voice smooth, unruffled. "What makes you think I was following you?"
Hinamori stiffened, clearly realizing her mistake, but she barreled on, "Besides you answering me with a question?"
"Besides that," he agreed, calm. There were several reasons he could think of, obvious only in retrospect from a civilian point of view, but he genuinely wanted to know what tipped Hinamori off.
"It makes the most sense? You're literally next door to me. You already knew me. Besides Amano-san and Taniguchi-san, you'd probably be the first person to ask about me. Plus the walls are like, ridiculously thin. If I can hear you snore - "
Kakashi shot her a look.
"Then you can definitely hear me. Also that time you actually said hi to me first, in public? Only after I first met Naruto? Or that time in the laundry room? So out of character it was actually creepy." Hinamori shuddered at the memory. "And you're clearly somewhere high up in the ranks to have the Hokage's trust if he asked you to hand deliver me like some restaurant's takeout."
"Not necessarily. Any Leaf nin would have done that."
The implications of that statement made her cringe. She rubbed at her left shoulder. "Yeah but you did. And considering everything else, I don't think it's a coincidence."
Kakashi regarded her stoically, neither confirming nor denying any of her deductions. He watched the way Hinamori scratched at her collarbone, sure to leave red marks under her shirt, and wondered about the clear anxious tic. It occurred to him that he'd only seen her wear long sleeves despite the summer heat.
But that could wait for another time.
Instead, he asked, "And when did you realize you were under surveillance?"
He needed to know if she knew, if she had any concept of the rare affinity she had -
"I just knew, okay!" she exploded. "I knew. I could feel eyes on me everywhere I went! It's not some weird trick or technique or whatever your paranoid ninja brain is thinking right now. People just know when they're being watched. And do you know how unsettling that is? How I felt? Unsafe. I felt unsafe even in my own home and literally everywhere I went."
"Hinamori - "
"And then you just pop in out of nowhere and drag me to the Hokage? No preparation, no heads up, nothing. I felt like anything I said was just tightening some invisible noose hanging over my head the whole time. Then I'm sent off like a child from the principal's office for, for what? For standing up for a little boy who was getting bullied by a grown man? For showing him some level of compassion? Or for helping you out that one time when you were bleeding in the stairwell? For being a decent human being? Just being here? Does Konoha really hate outsiders that much?"
She buried her face in her hands, breath shuddering. "I come home, freak out, and just sit out here - just existing - trying to wrap my head around all this and think rationally about the whole thing when you slink on over outta nowhere, scare me so bad I almost fall off the roof and break my neck, are sarcastic and rude and horrible, and then immediately launch some weird ninja interrogation? And I'm supposed to accept all this calmly? Just like that? Just like that?"
...oh.
Kakashi said nothing, accepting Hinamori's tirade for what it was: a release. A chance to let go and vent after months of stress and worry and anger and - he now understood - sheer terror. It was better for her to get it out of her system now rather than wait for it to burst later. Otherwise, his new role as "handler' would become needlessly complicated. Also...there was a small kernel of pity for her. Very little of the situation was his own doing, and he certainly wasn't to blame. It was how it was in the village. Kakashi had simply done his job. That's it. He had long ago learned to detach himself from any sense of guilt or trepidation over whatever a mission demanded of him.
But never in his shinobi career, never, had he ever been confronted by someone he'd run surveillance on. Not like this. After all, most were never none the wiser and those who were usually came after him with a kunai instead of an emotional tirade.
"And you know what the worst part is?" Hinamori asked from behind her hands. "The part that makes me so angry?"
Kakashi hummed. "What's that?"
Grimacing, she lifted her face. "You could have asked me. Anyone could have. I would have answered if you had just asked."
"That's not how things work around here."
"I noticed." Hinamori let her head fall back, lightly thumping on her window. "But that doesn't mean we have to work like that."
Kakashi blinked, eyebrow rising. "We?"
Pursing her lips, Hinamori glowered at him. "I know today wasn't the end of...whatever's been going on. And I know that you're still involved in one way or another."
"How's that?"
"I'm naive, not stupid. Why else would you be here?"
Kakashi lowered himself from his previous crouch, relaxing into a sitting position a small distance from her. "You got me there," he said dryly.
Hinamori tapped a small, anxious rhythm on her knee. "Can we...can we start over? Clean slate?"
"You can't change what's already happened."
She huffed. "I know that. What I mean is choose a different way to go forward. You'll do whatever you think you have to, I guess, but can't we just...actually get to know each other? It'd be easier than you skulking around and me freaking out at my own shadow."
"Actually, you're the easiest surveillance job I've ever had."
She wrinkled her nose and made a small, furious noise in the back of her throat.
"Alright, alright," he soothed. "What kind of 'clean slate' do you have in mind?"
For the first time that night, Hinamori relaxed - slightly. She bit her lip thoughtfully and looked at the moon for a moment.
"Ten questions."
Kakashi's brow furrowed.
"You're tired - don't give me that look! You always look half-asleep - and I'm emotionally and mentally done for the day. So let's keep it to ten questions."
He didn't have too many, and he was missing his bed right now. Kakashi nodded in slow agreement. "Just ten then."
"Each."
Kakashi slid her an unimpressed look. "You want...to play twenty questions."
"You've been stalking me for weeks," Hinamori said defensively, face reddening. "And we've been neighbors for months. I know you sneak your clothes into other people's loads in the laundry room - yes, yes, I know about that, literally the entire building does, chill with the shinobi paranoia already - and have had your blood on my hands. But I know nothing about you as a person and you probably know almost everything about me."
Your blood on my hands. Kakashi pressed his lips together. Bypassing that, he said, "Stalking is when someone does it for their own twisted desires. I was running surveillance."
"Uh-huh. Intentions aside, they're the same thing. You're welcome for me leaving the door unlocked, by the way."
He swung his head towards her, incredulous. "What?"
"It creeped me out less to think of you just strolling in through the door," Hinamori said, frank. "Instead of, I dunno, sneaking in through the window or dropping from the ceiling like a spider."
Dropping from the ceiling? This girl watches too many movies.
"You do know how dangerous that is, right?" Kakashi asked, voice tight. "What if it hadn't been me?"
"Like I wasn't being watched by a ninja twenty-four/seven anyway."
His eyes narrowed. "Weren't you just calling me a stalker?"
"Weren't you the one who said we needed to talk?"
"Fine. But I might not answer yours."
Hinamori shook her head, ponytail shifting with the movement. "Uh-uh. We got some ground rules."
A small headache was building in his skull; he was going to name it after its originator, Hinamori Takara. "And what are those?"
"We take turns, back and forth," she immediately said.
"I know how Twenty Questions works."
She hushed him. "You can ask whatever you want and I'll answer. No passing, no holding back, no matter what."
Oh. Okay, he could get behind that. "Alright then. But what's the catch?"
"You can pass on whatever you want but I get another question. And if you don't give me a straightforward answer, I can ask another."
Kakashi raised a brow. "I'm not going to sit here all night until you're happy with my answers."
Her expression fell.
"...you get ten shots tonight. Any new questions you get, you can ask later."
Ah, there's the dimple again.
"Really?"
"I go first," Kakashi said firmly.
"Yeah. Yeah, okay!" Like an overeager child, she scooted over. Her elbows fell to her knees and she rested her chin on her steepled fingers. Closer now, he could now make out the barest glimmer of gold in her eyes, almost amber in the dim lighting. "Ask away, neighbor."
Kakashi deadpanned at her but wasted no time: "Why did you move to Konoha?"
Takara sucked in a breath, releasing it slowly. "That's... You mean why I moved, period, or why I moved to Konoha specifically? They're both different questions with very different answers."
"Both."
"Choose one first."
"Alright then. Why Konoha?"
Hinamori tilted her head, glancing to the side. "Well... To put it nicely, there's a lot of room for economic growth."
"No holding back, remember?" he half-mocked.
"Your economic model sucks," she said bluntly.
Eh?
"I don't mean to insult your hometown - really, I don't, it's a very nice one except for the bullying ten-year-olds part... But yeah, your economy does. It really, really sucks. But Konoha isn't unique in that way. Most Hidden Villages are still running off a playbook that worked fifty years ago: Outsourcing most of your labor, relying on outside producers to meet basic consumer needs, distrust of any new people and their money unless it's for a mission, constant competition between ninja villages for clients - clients that are frankly harder and harder to come by." Expression fierce, Hinamori threw her hands up. "Then whatever money y'all make on missions goes into preserving what you have or repairing constant damages instead of actually developing anything! I've read about it for years and even took microeconomics courses on it. No one outright says it and no one wants to because, you know, literal assassins for hire."
Fair enough. Kakashi nodded.
"But compared to other cities, Hidden Villages are practically running themselves to the ground. Most are so tiny and closed off, some folks think they might disappear in the next generation or two. Bigger ones like Konoha or Iw - Kirigakure are almost totally financially reliant on their daimyo. The only exception really is Kumogakure, and that's because they know to export the metals in their mountains and practically control the market for them. It wouldn't surprise me if the alloy in your hitai-ate contained metals directly from the Land of Lightning."
"That..." Kakashi was going to spend a long, long time processing that. Now he understood the Hokage's interest in "future conversations"; it went far beyond updates from Naruto's new unofficial nanny. "...doesn't answer my question. If it's bad as you think, why move here?'
A near unsettling grin slid across Hinamori's face. It gave Kakashi flashbacks of the card shark from the poker table. "I said room for growth, right? There's always potential in a weakness - potential for so much more. And most entrepreneurs either can't get in or are just too scared to come here and try anyway."
"So you want to use the village's economic situation to your advantage," Kakashi surmised.
"I want to work with it," Hinamori said curtly. Then her mouth curled in a slight sneer. "If I'm going to use anybody, it'll be the wealthy clients hiring ninja squads to retrieve their runaway pets."
An entrepreneur who resents rich people, he noted. How unusual.
Finding himself slightly amused and definitely intrigued, Kakashi's eyelids lowered. "The same clients we're also hired to protect."
"Uh-huh. Only as long as they're paying the big bucks, though, right? How is that any different from my goals?"
She's definitely not wrong. He leaned back against the wall, stretching his legs and crossing his ankles.
"My, my. I didn't expect for you to be so cutthroat about it, Hinamori."
Hinamori tilted her head, raising her eyebrows and pursing her lips at him. "Only figuratively."
Kakashi decided not to comment on the subtle jab. "Alright, your turn."
Scarily intense entrepreneur side evaporating, Hinamori leaped at the opportunity. Her gaze landed on his left eye. "How - "
"Pass."
"You don't even know what I was going to - "
"Yes, I do. And I pass. Next question."
Hinamori sighed, entire body deflating. "Fine. How old are you?"
"..."
That's it?
Hinamori stared at him expectantly.
He blinked.
"...don't tell me even something like that is too personal for you."
Kakashi decided that in order to satisfy that monstrous curiosity of hers, he'd have to give her something once in a while to keep her from delving into forbidden territory. "Twenty-three."
He lurched forward to keep Hinamori from falling off the roof again, pulling her to safety by the back of her shirt.
"WHAT!"
"Is that your third question?" he teased.
"No." Cheeks flaring, she stared at him long and hard. "I just can't believe - I thought - you're twenty-three."
"That's what I said."
"That's so young!"
"...Yes," Kakashi said slowly, warily.
"You're barely older than me! Almost the same age as my older brother."
Dread filled him. Cautiously, he asked, "...how old did you think I was?"
Hinamori's impression of a tomato could win her the county fair.
"Hinamori."
She avoided eye contact.
"No passing."
"Then this definitely counts as your second question."
The ninja regretted agreeing to her childish game. "Alright, then answer it."
Hinamori covered her eyes. Softly, with no small amount of reluctance, she admitted in a tiny whisper, "Forty."
Kakashi felt some critical, previously unknown part of himself crumple up and die that night.
"Forty," he repeated hollowly.
Hinamori sent him a pitying look that made him want to simply hand her off to Ibiki for further questioning. Grimacing, she tried to lighten the blow. "Ish."
"Forty-ish."
"You just - you're not very energetic like most people in our age group."
"I work a lot."
"You have gray hair."
"So do some teenagers!"
"When did you start going gray?"
"When I was born."
"Really?" Hinamori leaned forward and squinted at his messy silver - silver, not gray - hair.
Flooded with tea tree oil, so sudden and so close, his nose twitched and involuntarily inhaled deeper. He realized the tea tree oil was from her shampoo, laced with lighter lavender tones; he hated that his first thought was she must've recently showered. Kakashi resisted the violent urge to recoil and instead settled with a cold stare. Hinamori immediately backed off, holding her hands up in surrender and a "Sorry, sorry!"
"That was your third question," Kakashi said decisively.
She sputtered. "But - "
"No."
She hung her head in defeat.
"My turn." Kakashi turned his head to stare directly at her. "Why did you move from Aomori?"
Hinamori's shoulders stiffened. Hidden behind her bangs, her eyes widened.
Kakashi waited, neither pushing nor coaxing.
Gradually, with a deep breath, she straightened up. Hinamori met his gaze evenly, expression forcibly neutral. "My family."
Under the thin fabric of his mask, Kakashi's lips parted. What? Immediately, he thought back to the collage of family photos adorning her tiny studio, the weekly phone calls, the pages upon pages of letters with Aomori stamps scattered across the chabudai - crinkled and smoothed over, edges worn from multiple re-readings. He remembered the first time he overheard her crying from homesickness.
"I love my family," Hinamori said quickly, eyes dipping down to her knees. There was no mistaking the conviction, no room for doubt, when she said, "I love them dearly. And I miss them everyday. But I needed some distance. A lot happened when I was younger, during and after the war."
The war, huh. So caught up in the very thick of it, Kakashi sometimes...not quite forgot but didn't stop to think about the civilians unfortunately caught in the cross hairs of it. There hadn't been time for such thoughts. He'd been too busy drafting battle strategies against other shinobi villages to worry about the civilian ones.
One such civilian rubbed at her left collarbone, briefly lost in thought. "Home just wasn't a good place anymore. I moved in with my mother's sister when I was eighteen, away from the farm, and that helped for awhile. But it wasn't - it wasn't enough. It was still Aomori. Some uncles didn't like a niece getting a higher education than their sons. I had aunts who tried to set me up, ignoring that I was already seeing somebody. My dad - he, well."
At the mention of her father, Kakashi watched her closely from the corner of his eye.
Hinamori grimaced. "He was never the same after Kaa-san died. Like he's completely lost without her. Sometimes, I feel bad for my younger brothers... They have a very different father than the one that raised me and my older brother. Now he has to rely on others to guide him along most of the time. Hotaka does that now, 'cause he's always been the reliable one. But at first, our aunts and uncles had to take over. And some of them...one aunt wasn't very fond of my mother when she was alive. And being the only girl and looking so much like her..."
Silver hair and that white chakra blame... Impossible. You - ! Konoha's White Fang?
"It was actually Hotaka who told me I needed to move farther away." An achingly fond look crossed her face. "His exact words were actually 'hurry up and leave already'. Said he'd rather see me happy once a year than miserable everyday. So, I left."
Hinamori raised her eyes, a bitter curl to her lip. "That thorough enough for you?"
"Yeah," he said softly, avoiding her gaze in favor of the night sky. "That's enough."
"Great..."
They sat in a fragile silence, awkward and stilted.
"Hatake-san, you..."
"What's your next question?" Kakashi asked mildly.
"You're a good listener," she finished.
He shrugged. "I asked you, you answered, I listened."
"That's more than what a lot of people get sometimes." She paused, considering. "And you didn't say 'sorry'."
I'm sorry I wasn't in time, Kakashi. I heard it all from Rin.
"Sorry doesn't change anything." He kept the roughness out of his voice despite how tight his throat felt now.
"No, it doesn't," Hinamori agreed, tone thoughtful. "But usually people say it anyway. Just to be polite."
A dark eye peered back at her, only to find Hinamori wasn't looking at him. She herself had turned to observe a distant streetlamp.
"You're a very rude man, Hatake-san."
Kakashi's right eyebrow twitched.
She turned to him, grinning. "But I think I like that about you. It's different from what I'm used to."
"If you don't ask your question, you forfeit it," he warned.
"Okay, okay... How many places have you been?" She looked at him with such an intensely earnest expression.
"A lot."
Hinamori grumbled. "Not good enough!"
"Ask me another question later then."
She sucked her teeth but relented.
Undeterred, Kakashi continued his side of the interrogation. "You mentioned you read up on Konoha or at least our economy for years. How long and why?"
"That's technically two questions."
"Answer them both."
"Since I was about thirteen or so."
He arched a brow.
"As for why, it's kind of like what I told Hokage-san. About the bow and the archer." Hinamori was pragmatic. "After the war, we were all picking up the pieces and I was so young I barely understood what even happened. Eventually, I wanted to know the why behind it. So I started with what was closest. Good enough?"
"Enough," Kakashi allowed. For now.
"Do you get paid overtime for scaring innocent civilians off roofs and questioning them after-hours? Or 'surveying' them for weeks on end?"
Of course, she would ask about that.
"That sounds like at least three questions."
"No, it boils down to one: Do you get overtime for this?"
His head lolled back, eyes tracking a passing owl flying overhead. "No."
Hinamori stared at him, mulling his answer over and thinking carefully. "Second part: Why do this then?"
"The life of a ninja isn't some regular job," he explained quietly, becoming solemn. "It's a way of life, a duty. When I put on this headband, I swore to always serve the village and do everything in my power to protect it."
From the corner of his eye, he saw Hinamori mouth fall open. She blinked rapidly, processing. She gently closed her mouth, lowering her chin. Subdued, Hinamori considered him with an unfamiliar expression - strangely soft yet analytical. It reminded him of meeting another ninja from a separate village outside of battle, lax but scrutinizing, covertly sizing him up, always trying to pinpoint a weakness or a second of carelessness. Unlike those looks, there was nothing hostile about Hinamori's intent stare. She was trying to figure him out for the sole sake of figuring him out, to learn who he was and understand.
Kakashi found this more disconcerting than an enemy trying to decide how best to gut him with a kunai. It almost made him lift up a hand to ensure his mask was still in place. He tried to distract her. "Are you finally out of questions?"
Unfortunately, for once, Hinamori did not take the bait. Rather, the intensity of her stare increased as her eyes narrowed. Her bottom lip pushed out unconsciously as she continued to look at him - really look at him.
"...you really love your village, huh."
Kakashi blinked.
The man had promised his life to Konoha, indiscriminately taken others' lives for it, and watched countless comrades' sacrifice their own for their village. He waited for the day his name was inscribed on the Memorial Stone. This devotion seeped into the very marrow of his bones, unshakable, becoming something deeper than loyalty. Fealty was practically bred into him, the product of generations of shinobi who served Konohagakure and then patron lords before the First Hokage first conceived the idea of this village.
All of this, and Kakashi had never really thought of applying a word like love to the village. He'd only ever said the word sparingly in his life. The few things (people) he could use such a word for were long gone. Saying it now, even to himself, would be like uttering a word from another language - strange and unfamiliar in his mouth, mangled in a sloppy attempt at pronunciation.
But for the village, for Konohagakure...
He didn't care to get further into it at the present moment.
Purposely dry, sardonic: "Is that your question?"
Hinamori gently shook her head. "No. I think I already know the answer."
Do you now?
"If that's what you think." Without any change in tone, he asked blithely, "Have you ever resented ninja for what happened in Aomori?"
"Of course," Hinamori said without missing a beat. Her eyes sharpened, narrowing. "Aomori is still recovering from the after effects. Some forests are even off limits because of leftover explosive tags no one bothered to remove. And it's only a matter of time before another border brawl destroys what little progress made."
Unable to deny it and refusing to offer false comfort, Kakashi continued, "Yet you say you don't resent us now."
"Because I don't."
He wouldn't have blamed her if she did; he wouldn't blame any civilian from Aomori. Frankly, it wasn't too impossible that some of those explosion tags were his own. For that, Kakashi couldn't believe that Hinamori didn't hold even a kernel of the resentment she denied now. She certainly had the inherent distrust that many (sensible, healthy) civilians had concerning ninja.
"What changed?"
"Bow, archer. Realizing that the past is in the past, done and over with. Figuring out who is actually responsible for Aomori's rebuilding. And I eventually saw that people are people, regardless of...'profession'. We're all capable of incredible kindness and terrible cruelty."
"That simple, hm?"
"I've known some pretty awful people who were most definitely not ninja," Hinamori said grimly. The corner of her mouth lifted a bit. "And recently, I've found some unexpectedly kind people who happen to be ninja."
Kakashi said nothing in response to that.
"Hatake-san..."
"Mm?"
"Were you ever in Aomori? During the war?"
He remembered walking by the Soma River with his team. Obito, Rin, Sensei... They had stopped for camp at the base of Mt. Shinseki where he took first watch. They resupplied in Aya, disguising themselves as a small family of refugees to avoid the locals' ire. It was because of how young their squad was, how seemingly innocent, that they were chosen to go through Aomori; it was the best way to avoid civilian suspicion. That was all on the way to Kannabi Bridge. Thinking of it now, sitting next to this civilian from Aomori, Kakashi thought about how his team may very well have passed by the Hinamori farm at one point. He wondered if 13-year-old him, newly promoted to jonin, ever walked by 10-year-old Hinamori Takara. If he ever did, he would have certainly forgotten a random farmer's daughter...especially after what happened on that mission.
Now here they were, ten years later.
"Yes."
Hinamori nodded, a simple acceptance of his part in the destruction of her home. Kakashi wondered at that, at her. How could she let something like that go, enough to move to a ninja village? How could she open herself up to the very people who caused her family so much pain? How could she even insinuate that he himself was a kind person after all he had done in her home prefecture?
"Your turn," Hinamori said, tone light.
Thinking of his team, of Minato-sensei and Obito and Rin, he remembered the day Hinamori stumbled upon him at Rin's grave. A question that bothered him for months came back to him, one he needed to know the answer to: "How did you know how long I was actually gone when you found me at the cemetery?"
Hinamori's expression startled. Pink slid up from her neck and into her cheeks, turning her face rosy. "Oh. Um...the flowers."
"The flowers?"
"Teppōyuri, right? My dad puts the same flowers on my mom's grave. That and chrysanthemums, for her name...Kikue. So I know how long they last. When you were clearing out the old ones that day, I noticed they weren't that old."
"Anyone else could have replaced them."
"You're right but... Leaving flowers behind but not weeding the grave site? Weeds that had barely grown in at all? Or washing the headstone, which wasn't even all the dusty?" She shook her head. "Even now, Tou-san visits her grave at least once a week. I've lost count of how many times I've had to fetch him from there just so he'd eat."
Kakashi's eyes narrowed. "You don't like that he visits her a lot."
"It's a rock with her name on it, not her." She froze, realizing what she just said - and to whom. She bit her lip before continuing, "I'm going to sound very rude for saying this, maybe even blasphemous if you're particularly religious, so sorry but...I don't understand the point of visiting graves. I don't think the dead can hear us. I don't believe in an afterlife. I don't understand the need to leave offerings because that's just wasted food. And I've never understood."
"It's a way of honoring the deceased."
"I think it's more for the living than the deceased," Hinamori admitted. "And I get it. Everyone has their mourning process. But I believe that...the most important person in anyone's life is whoever is right in front of you. And some people's - not you, sheesh, I don't know you enough yet to say this about you, stop giving me that look - some other people's priorities get mixed up if they stand in front of a grave too long."
Kakashi couldn't help the way his mouth twisted, half mocking, half defensive. He knew that none of this was directed at him, merely remnant feelings regarding her father's own issues, but it was too close to home. "And what do you do?"
"Do?"
"If you don't visit your mother's grave, or anyone's apparently, what do you do?"
Hinamori looked at him oddly, as though the answer were obvious. "I live my life."
For a man who did spend much of his free time at grave sites and memorials, who frequently confided in the deceased, who took the words of a dead boy to heart and made them his own ninja way, who consciously wallowed in his past and simply could not (would not) move on, Hinamori's words - the ease with which they were said - were a sharp slap in the face. Takara unintentionally reminded him of what his own comrades, teammates, childhood friends often told him: Deal with your baggage and move the hell on.
Kakashi was not ignorant to his issues; he ignored them. His depression, his self-loathing, his refusal to connect with others, his regret over his team, his issues with his parents, his endless grief. He buried it all deep inside and ignored it. Instead, he threw himself into the Anbu. Mission after mission, going on for weeks and sometimes months between the mandated off days caught up with him. Even then, he trained until his body nearly gave out. He ate what his body needed to maintain itself for Konoha's needs but never for the enjoyment of a meal. He read the same book again and again because it was a good book and also because he himself could experience the emotions of the characters rather than living them, feeling them, himself. He ignored friends when they called to him, inviting him for drinks or dango or a simple chance to catch up, and chose instead the company of lonely headstones.
And Kakashi hated himself for it.
Yet he couldn't bring himself to change. He knew the way he existed wasn't right or healthy or normal. He knew many comrades who were dealt a worse hand than him and continued on with their lives. But he still couldn't move on. And for that, he hated himself even more. It was an ongoing cycle, one he didn't see ending until he was older - much older - or when his name was added to the memorial.
In that moment, Kakashi wished he could dismiss Takara's shockingly simple statement. He wished he could say that the civilian hadn't truly suffered and would never understand. But he himself had a hand in her war torn childhood, had seen firsthand what happened in Aomori. She'd lost her mother and in a way also her father. She had to take on a parental role as a young teenager. From what she just confided, her extended relatives added to the hardship rather than alleviated it. She placed herself in the last place anyone else of her background would ever want to be and - from what Kakashi gathered - was effectively disowned for it.
Takara who looked down on prolonged mourning, who silently judged her own (living) father's continuous grief. Takara who said, The most important person is whoever is in front of you.
I live my life.
I refuse to let the past define me.
Part of Kakashi resented her. Another part respected her.
"Uuuuh...Hatake-san? You okay there?"
"What's your next question, Hinamori." He wanted a distraction.
Hinamori stared at him, internally debating. Finally: "Well, I do have one. It's a little personal, though."
He braced himself.
"...it's about the mask."
Having expected this as the first question, Kakashi merely waited.
"What happens when you sneeze?"
"..."
"What? It's an honest question."
"That's enough for one night."
"Oh, come on - hey. Wait! Don't leave!"
"Good night, Hinamori."
"We didn't even finish! Hatake-san!"
Kakashi slid into his apartment. He closed the window behind him, nearly catching her fingers, with a sharp snap. Nevertheless, Hinamori persisted - knocking on the glass. Sending her a final flat look, Kakashi pulled his curtains shut.
With only the distant lights from people's windows, Takara stumbled in the dim alley. The acrid air was sticky and humid lower to the ground, pressed between her building and the one next door with little air circulating. The impromptu nighttime visit was a foul reminder that trash day was tomorrow, Takara realized while trying to breathe through her mouth. She nearly tripped over someone's recycling bin. Takara glowered up at where she could only guess were her and Hatake's neighboring apartments.
"Sneaky shinobi sneaking up on people, scaring 'em," she grumbled to herself. "Then the jerk runs away in the middle of twenty questions."
She wondered bitterly whether said jerk was listening in - again - or if another ninja skulked about nearby, continuing the still technically unconfirmed but stupidly obvious surveillance on her. Would they report her tripping over herself in the alley between garbage cans? Or were they merely watching her make a fool of herself, like some kind of judgmental alley cats slinking around in the shadows?
Gross.
Just in case, Takara stuck her tongue out at the window she assumed was Hatake's and blew a raspberry. Take that! Let them see how they waste their time!
Turning her attention back to the ground, Takara squinted as she tip-toed her way around barely seen shapes.
It had been a long, long day: Accosted by her suddenly "social" neighbor not once but twice. Dragged off to Konoha's much loved dictator without explanation. Softly interrogated by said dictator who then of course threatened her without words. The old man hadn't even so much as blinked but Takara was suffocated by this indescribable pressure that would have certainly made her fall to her knees had she not already been sitting.
I look forward to future conversations.
Takara shuddered. What the hell did that even mean?
She'd be lying if she said the thought of grabbing her backpack and tearing out of this insane village - screaming - hadn't crossed mind albeit briefly. But then, even after all those subtle attempts at bullying her out...was even that an option anymore?
Another shiver rolled down her spine. The skin under her long-sleeved, cotton shirt prickled, itched like a still healing wound. Her hand rubbed harshly at her left collarbone and dragged itself over her shoulder, clutching her bicep. The sharp bite of nails ripped her back to reality.
Takara walked a little further, brow furrowed as she scanned the ground. Her eyes glinted at the lone, multicolor styrofoam cup. "There you are."
She plucked it off the ground and plopped it into one of the nearby trash cans, satisfied. No littering in her ninja-ridden neighborhood, thank you very much.
Pausing, Takara considered the abandoned ramen. The broth had long since soaked into the grown and it was too dark to make out any of the minuscule shrimps or dehydrated vegetables that flavored it. Those would easily be pecked away by birds or carted off by scavenging insects. But the noodles were still easily distinguishable on the dusty ground. It would be wrong to just leave them but -
Such a waste, a small voice whimpered.
The thought of wasting food, precious food, summoned phantom pains in her stomach. Takara wasn't hungry right then but she remembered.
God, she remembered.
"Tou-san, I'm hungry."
She remembered a time when she would have easily, thoughtlessly eaten anything from the ground. The taste of earth, the dryness in her hungry mouth as every drop of saliva was sucked up by clay, the mud-like texture on her tongue, grit on her teeth. The comforting solidness of it in her small belly.
Red-hot shame scorched up her neck. Takara closed her eyes, shaking her head of it. She opened them again and they landed almost immediately back on the ramen. She inhaled shakily.
...I could save it.
No.
It wouldn't be that hard to salvage. Just rinse it off. Stir-fry it and throw in some vegetables.
It was trash.
No, it's food.
Takara grimaced, torn. Old survival instincts pushed against basic human dignity.
Save it at least! You can't let it go to waste, you can't waste food, can't waste -
It's on the ground and dirty and unsanitary and completely humiliating, she told herself firmly. Resolute. Still, though, she couldn't tear her gaze away from the source of her inner conflict. She swallowed.
No. It's not good food.
It's food, though. Food.
You're not starving anymore!
But what about the next attack? What if it happens tomorrow or tonight or in the hour? One that tears up fields and destroys the harvest? What if the ninja cut off trade again? People will pluck their gardens clean and buy out the grocery stores. There'd be nothing left. What then? Who would feed you then? Who would feed the entire village?
Who? Who do you think? Isn't it obvious?
She swayed, light-headed.
Eat while you still can.
Her bottom lip trembled. She crushed the tremors under blunt teeth.
Eat.
Black dots filled her vision. Takara closed her eyes.
EAT.
"Did ya hear what happened to the Kaneki boy?"
"Don't let your children out of your sight."
"Another one. A goddamn 'nother one."
"We can't even forage because they trapped the entire forest. So worried about enemies, they forgot we still need to eat."
Fucking eat something!
"When will this madness end?"
"Hotaka, watch your sisters."
"How am I supposed to feed my family?"
"Your family? I can't even feed myself!"
Eateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateateat
Knees buckled. Takara slumped over, clutching a trash can for balance. Her chest wracked with harsh, rib-clattering pants. The pungent smell of garbage filled her nasal cavity and she greedily sucked it in, coughing at the stench. It brought her back to - to here. Here. She was here. None of that mattered. The past was the past. It wasn't real - this was now. This was real. This was all that mattered.
Ripped wide open, pupils pinpricks in electric green, her eyes were half-wild as they darted around the alleyway. She furiously counted the things around her, the things that were there, that were real. One. Distant barking. Two. The hum of a television set through someone's window. Three. Salt slipping between her cracked lips from the burning wet trails slicing down her cheeks - no, no, no, no! She counted again.
One. A half-crushed soda can.
Breathe in.
Two. Folded cardboard.
Breathe out.
Three. A bottle cap.
Breathe in.
Four. Rope-like strands of ramen noodles strewn across the ground like - like -
"Kaa-san, where's Natsuki-chan?"
Stomach clenching, throat tightening, Takara fell to her knees and heaved. Her recent meal joined its uneaten portion on the ground, followed by everything else she ate that day. The distant memory of dirt faded to the very present filth of sick. When there was nothing left inside her, she didn't stop. Several minutes passed of dry-heaving and coughing, hyperventilating in between gagging.
Eventually, it ended. Her mind was foggy, gradually pulling back to the present, to now.
Takara dragged the back of her clammy hand over her mouth and shakily stood up. She spat on the ground. Lips pulled back, baring teeth. She sneered at the mess of vomit and saliva and discarded food. At herself.
"It's over," Takara said to no one, quiet, firm. A whisper made of steel. "None of it matters now."
Author's Note: So. The "unnamed sibling" briefly mentioned in chapter 9 now has a name. :)
Yay for their first actual conversation! Also, can I just say that the entire time I wrote the "20 questions" scene (which took forever btw - you're welcome), I just kept shaking my head. It's like...Kakashi never even stood a chance, huh? He is going to fall and he is going to fall hard. TAKASHI IS SAILING, Y'ALL. Granted, I write him a certain way and of course Takara's own character design has sway. But this? The crazy thing about writing is that when you finally hit a groove, when you just know the characters and simply let them do their own thing, you surprise yourself with what happens. It makes all the hours of work worth it.
Speaking of said scene, there's a reason that it was from Kakashi's POV - learning more about Takara along with you readers - and not Takara's. A lot of thoughts going on in that pumpkin head of her and a lot flashbacks. She shared some pretty heavy stuff, just honest enough to be real and let herself be slightly vulnerable to her neighbor/stalker/handler, but there's a lot more to her story that she has no desire to tell or even think about for that matter. It's fun writing her with Kakashi, a man basically drowning himself in the past, when she herself adamantly represses her own and just keeps marching on to the future. They're direct foils for each other in that sense: Kakashi needs to let his past go and move on. Takara needs to actually deal with hers.
But after watching her own father lose himself entirely to grief, unable to emotionally (at times physically) support his children, Takara now has an unhealthy mindset on how to deal with grief/pain/mourning: don't. Clearly, going by the last scene, this doesn't work. She thinks she's "moved on" but she hasn't. You have to actually reconcile with things, let yourself feel and process what happened, before you can properly move on.
So, yeah, you could say Kakashi and Takara have a lot to learn from each other. :)
Sorry if Kakashi was a little too depressed/resentful/etc. This is Kakashi before Team 7 after all, and he was taken off guard as he realized, Oh, hey, I actually have a few things in common with you. Because nothing spells romance like similar traumas.
On another note...if anyone were to draw fan art of Takara threatening Kakashi with a chopstick, I would actually die happy. SOMEONE PLEASE DRAW THIS FOR ME. PLEASE. Or maybe Takara's scary, lowkey sketchy businesswoman side. Or Kakashi wanting to smack her upside the head in the Hokage's office. Or anything really. It would be a great motivator to finish chapter 15.
Questions of the chapter: What do you think the long awaited Challenge Between Eternal Rivals will be? Do you think Takara will ever figure out about the Nine-Tails? How will Kakashi react to finally learning that Gai and Takara are friends...and that he somehow missed this while running surveillance (stalking) on Takara? Is the Third Hokage going to become a Takashi shipper?
What do you think happened to baby Natsuki? :) :)
