I jolt to wakefulness; my back aching in protest as I manage to sit up against the wet wall beside. A trail of rain had seeped through the rotted wood above from the old marketer's roof I'd been using as shelter, and it had trickled down the sides of the post and concrete wall nearby. My arms and legs are painfully sore and wet from the moisture, and some of the newspapers I'd been using as a mattress are now clinging onto my bare arms. To look beside me though, I see the small -still curled up, and restful, figure of my son asleep in the warm protective confines of my childhood jacket. He's shivering slightly to the light wind of the alleyway; he doesn't have much in the way of clothing, only that which I can earn from the rare mission I get sent on.
His hair is an indarkened midnight black, as I believe his father's was, and he has an ivory skin tone along with deep blue eyes; in truth, he looks nothing like me. Which was a revelation -I shouldn't have but,- I'd smiled upon discovery. I had thought briefly that the marks underlying his eyes were some of my genealogy; alike my whisker markings. However, as he'd grown from infancy I had noticed quickly that they were not scars like mine, but rather more formed as deep, genetic stress lines along with a small mole on his cheekbone near to his right eye: I can only assume that they too come from his patriarchal side. My son is a beautiful boy, and lucky, for because of his astrayed appearance to my own, he does not have many people in Konoha asking questions as to his lineage; regardless that several people may see him on my hip often as I wander the streets and stores, most merely think he is an untaught orphan, lead to my side by unfortunate circumstance; which is an insulting ideal onto me, but far better unto him:
Far better that they think him as an innocent child who'd lost his parents to battle, one whom I took to looking after in my loneliness, then think him my biological son. In that mindset, they might treat him kindly when he's older.
I pick him up, wrapping my former jacket firmer around his slight frame, he groans in protest for the action. Still, he merely cuddles into my chest without so much as attempting to open his eyes, though he does begin to drool on my shirt while he dreams, little fingers digging into the cloth as he makes a slight noise likened to a cat's mewl. I roll my own at that, he does hate waking I know, though I believe that is because of the complaint he made to me about his eyes hurting against the light; it worries me slightly, though there is nothing I can do, Tsunade is not aware of the fact that I am a mother- nevermind that I am intersexual -that was kept strictly confidencial by the third hokage.- Nor would any of the local healers see him without a proper birth certificate, especially not with me being the one accompanying him. Thus, to check on his eyes and make sure nothing is wrong, I have decided to speak to Sakura-chan as she'd been training under Tsunade as of late in medical ninjutsu.
My mind swirls in concern at the decision however. As none but myself knew about my son, he had been born in secret within a port town with those local medics aiding me. No one from Konoha had been told that he was of my blood, I had been thirteen at the time after all- and thus for his own protection, he remained my little dark secret.
In addition to my own paranoia that his father is indeed an Uchiha; for the glimmer of those crimson irises staring down at me from the shadowed moonlight has not left my mind, and the pattern within them had most certainly been tomoe spinning there was little question to the man's bloodline. Thus, if anyone were to learn of my son's true parentage, I question: would he be killed for being my child? Would he be forced to live a life of seclusion because he is one of the last kin to a -legendary- dying clan; or would they kill him for that same reason? Would he be taken from me for my age? I cannot be sure, and my arms reflexively tighten around him in my worry, I can feel my brows furrow in consideration, staring upon the dirt road as if cursing it.
In truth, I am clueless, there are few paths for me to take that would insure his safety. I know very little of motherhood as it stands, and it isn't as if I had an example to take from.
Briefly, thought had come to me, to seek out his father, though the many complications of that idea had left me pinned in the village. His father is a mystery, even unto myself; for though I had shared a night of passion with the man who had given me my son, I had not properly seen his face- only traced it with my lips. I did not know his figure, I had only danced my hands down his arms, shoulders, and abdomen.
I knew: That his hair had been long enough to reach down his back to reach his tailbone, that it had shone in the lunar light, that it had been a dark tone alike black, with indigo highlights intermixed. His skin had been light, so light in tone that the hidden warmth of his skin had almost been hidden from me. His eyes were probably black as well, dark before they spun into the entrancing sharingan. He had been tall enough to completely cover me with his body, if not six-feet, then very close to such a figure. His voice, from what little I had heard, was deepened, rasped in slight as if taken by age, he had been older then me, I know. Yet, it does not escape my notice that there are precious few Uchiha alive, there is Sasuke; whom that had not been, I know that with certainty. There is Itachi, who had a voice as a dove- soft, nye gentle in spite of his grocome past, but Itachi was also not a tall man, absolutely not tall enough to have been my lover that night. Perhaps, there was another who had survived the massacre, but if so, then it would be someone rogue from the village, or entirely unknown to the records.
The sigh that escapes me over the thought rouses the sleeping toddler in my arms, his lids crinkling as he opens his eyes reluctantly. He cannot yet speak, though the small sounds he can make indicate to me that his first words are coming up, I'm quite excited for that. I've seen him crawl a few times, though as good as practise may be, I'd rather he didn't injure himself on the harsh dirt paths, people could be careless and forget to pick up a broken piece of glass; and I do not want him stabbing his little hands in such a way, they could get infected. "Ba~" Comes the little voice near my ear, its an adorable sound of confusion only a baby can make, and I cuddle him a little closer to me.
"Oh~ Look who's awake, and how did you sleep my little tadpole?" I shouldn't do so in public, for his, and my own sake, but I kiss his cheek anyway right on the side of his mole, making a purposeful smacking sound as I do so. He giggles at my stupidity, I look at him as he stares at me with intense midnight irises, he attempts to grip tighter onto my shirt, I plant a kiss on his head for the valant try. His little mole curls up along with his small eyelines and crinkling cheeks.
"Ba-" Is his response.
"Naruto!" The yell surprises me with a slight jump, though with the voice being familiar I turn automatically to Sakura's jogging figure. She's smiling, her emerald green eyes are bright, and her hair is dancing with her as if a vision of tranquility in comparison to myself. I wave back, managing to grin by forcing a joviality past the irking thoughts fogging my head, my son makes it a little more genuine as he lets out a 'moo-ing' sound. As one of my oldest friends inside the village the pinkette knows that I care for my son, though she knows not that he is biologically mine. Not in truth, though with my situation being as undecided as it is, there are at least two persons I plan to reveal that fact upon. One of them being the Haruno now stopping afore me, the other is currently on a mission.
Being who she is, she coos gently as the toddler upon my hip looks towards her in curiosity with widened eyes, then pokes at his cheek with a noise I cannot say is particularly human. "Hi Naruto, and how is Izuna-chan today?' Sugar coats her words, despite her very obvious attempt to steal him from my arms as we walk side-by-side. Izuna clings onto my shirt, pouting as if he were about to declare himself the mightiest of shinobi. Both myself and my teammate glance at each other for the reaction, and though it was her that my son was ignoring, Sakura laughed in good humour. Especially, as his attention, much as any toddler, soon drifts away and onto my shining headband, reaching for the refracting light.
"No baby, you can't grab that." I pull his little hand away with the smallest motion, I do not truly want to discourage him, curiosity is important after all. "I'm fine, just need to get my rent in soon and we should be fine this month." It'll be a trial to get in all the money, but my landlord had been kind this month and had given me more time to get my due in. Which was a rare thing for a man who had never held a fondness for me, though, it was necessary for Izuna, as I couldn't be sleeping rough with him at my side often without risking him getting some illness- which is unacceptable. Sakura 'hums' in thought beside me, as I adjust the toddler on my hip, he's not heavy quite yet, but carrying him everywhere is not easy.
"Naruto, you can ask for help you know? I'm sure I could-" I glare at her presumed argument, it had been made a couple times in the last few months. Expecting my answer it seems, she sighs loudly. Then grins; "figures, that's why I had to threaten your landlord with a good beating." My turn to sigh, something in my head resonating in my head that I'd once heard about women being weak; my laughter is internal and very loud. "You can't get mad, you never said I couldn't, besides, he deserved it anyhow." I don't bother disputing her claim, it would certainly be a meaningless attempt. Izuna whines in my arms, and I'm distracted as he harshly closes his eyes. Hiding his face into the jacket over his shoulders, and my own feeble clothing.
"Oh Naruto- I've been meaning to ask, who are you babysitting for anyway?" Perhaps, it is under my own want to be acknowledged for the life I have made as my shoulders tense. Still, the smile I manage to make feels as genuine as the many I make within the streets, so I worry not for her believing me as I sprout a lie to her face; she always has anyhow.
"An old friend." There were nothing else to make for truth, there was no white lie to formulate for a woman I've known so long. Further then the simplistic reasoning, I must keep forward within her graces. Sakura blinks, a simper crossing her face in the same gentle manner I had only ever seen her use around Sasuke. Almost, admirational. Internally, I wish to be annoyed, but instinctual understanding of parenthood retains the urge: Knowing that she has always considered me immature in comparison to herself, Sasuke, and Kakashi-sensei, it is not irrational on her part, however as it stands she is one of the few who can -and will- make sure my son is healthy, I cannot afford to be angry with her for the opinion. "Actually Sakura-chan, I do need a small favour if you can?" She raises a brow as answer.
"Depends on what it is." I can feel the damp sensation of wet sweat forming on my forehead at the response, my lips tilting downwards as the tightening begins in worry within my chest. I'm afraid to ask her for the aid, as she seems reluctant already.
"Ah, well, I was wondering if you could check Izuna-chan's eyes? They seem to get sore in the light." Therein she grins at me, I can't understand her reasoning. Though it seems real. We're at the playground now, some older children running about themselves playing games I never fully understood. There's laughing, some screaming-screeching noises that sound strange outside a battlefield, and few words thrown in with desperately cute high pitch voices only fitting to kids. The young children don't spare me a glance, too busy having fun in their little playground, but the few parents around give me a glance and scowl.
It is nothing I have not seen before, and as is commonality Sakura- though beside me, doesn't notice the malice at all. "Course!" Indeed, she seems content in comparison, light green chakra pouring through her veins as she quickly runs her hands over Izuna's temples, forehead, and eyes. A light 'humming' sound escaping her as she does. Eyes not even cast towards the playing children, or the irate parents nearby. She is focused entirely on my son as she moves a strand of pink hair from her nose, "just seems like hypersensitivity to me. Common in kids his age; a slow exposure to light everyday should decrease any soreness or pain he may feel from sunlight." It relieves me to hear her speak of it so simply, knowing it is nothing complex decreases the mounting anxiety I'd been harbouring. Hopefully she is correct, and there is no need to worry about his genetics as of yet.
"Thanks Sakura-chan, I wouldn't have asked, but I just wanted to be sure ya' know?" She waves her hand away in dismissal.
"Naruto-kun! Sakura-san! There you are!" Shizune's voice sounds loudly over the slight sentence Sakura was about to say, and we both turn to her direction at the unexpected arrival. Ton-ton sits comfortably within her arms as is regular, though she's sweating and her lip keeps getting pulled into her mouth from what I'd guess to be nervous uncertainty. The woman's hair is mused, messed about a good bit and she's panting slightly from exertion, I can only assume she had run all the way to meet us. "Tsunade-sama asks to see both of you, immediately." Blue and green irises clash then, as both me and Sakura wonder if the other knows anything. Still, our legs follow Shizune automatically; while my arms instinctively rock the toddler in my arms in hopes of keeping him sedate. I have no place to leave my son whilst I meet with the Hokage, nor could I keep her within Sakura's care, being as she was called as well. My impression however, is curiosity, its a sudden demand, and by my own awareness I have been temporarily marked as off-duty; by my own request of course.
Tsunade's office is clean, by standard, though splitters cover a corner of the floor, and she herself is leaning by the windows with arms crossed and a narrowed expression. No one else sits within the room, though the broken wood says that someone had been, from what I know of the sannin: informing her of something she had not wished to hear, resulting in a broken cabinet or desk or chair; one can never know with a woman prone to irrational anger at the slightest insult. Both me and my former teammate wait, standing by the door, Izuna is looking about himself in wonder having never seen a round room, nor the blonde Hokage neither. He is curious. While Sakura beside me seems anxious, her expression marred by stained lines, I can feel myself giving to both feelings as the silence weighs between us. Nervous, by the comprehension that our reason for being here cannot be pleasant, else Tsunade would have spoken already.
Instead, she sighs, loud enough to echo around the room. "For several months I have been receiving communiques from an anonymous double-agent in service to Konohagakure." She starts, though her fingernail goes to her lips, biting down as if uncertain what we should know about the circumstance, personally I am surprised it doesn't snap. "I have little doubt that he is still loyal to us- though I'll be the first to admit, betrayal is always a possibility. He has proven himself many times; as the council has reassured me. You won't know what I'm talking about, neither of you." Heels click as she steps twice to her desk, but her words pause as she sits down and intertwines her fingers, her eyes staring at undone paperwork, firmly avoiding either mine, or Sakura's gazes. Until, she looks at me, her irises staying onto Izuna-chan for only a moment before turning to her apprentice. "He has claimed, with evidence I cannot expose, that there is another Uchiha still alive outside of the Land of Fire. Therein, I do not mean Itachi. I do not know who this person is; there is nothing within the clan's records, thus, I have to assume he or his parents were born into a minor branch family of the Uchiha, outside of the village. I plan to assign Sakura, Kakashi, Ino, possibly Shilkamaru, on a special mission to find this 'missing Uchiha' and find out more of his circumstances."
My arms tense around my son as he plays with my hair. He likes yellow from what I can tell. My hesitance is mounting at Tsunade's words; by comprehension this is a way for me to meet again with Izuna's father, to know what sort of man he is to, maybe, tell him about his son. Still, the cord strikes in me, however, I cannot know how he is connected with his clan, it is possible he helped with Itachi's massacre, if that is the case, I do not want him to be around Izuna, or within the confines of the village.
"I would like you to go along with this team Naruto, as defense- offensive, if necessary. If this man is hostile you would be an ideal advantage to have as backup." the glare I wish to cast almost meets her, but I force my eyes into straying away from her steadfast gaze, to turn to the splitters at the side of the room. I want to be mad at her for claiming me as some type of weapon for the village's benefit, though that had always been my merit unto most of the civilians. My head confuses me, swarming with battered memories, and half forgotten comprehensions of a long forgone night; I do not know how I ended up in that field with such a man, only the happenings thereinlayen amongst the flowers. So do I wish to join, though I have no place to leave my child in absence, not without proclaiming him as mine own ken; foolish. There are few I can trust to remain discrete within the village of my son's existence, Iruka does filter into my mind as a possible caretaker yet he is busy with teaching. Otherwise, there is Shikamaru, and that is the minut list.
Might I must skimp away from a mission that may prove beneficial unto me and my small family? Sakura, beside me as she is turns to look at me with a concern I am most unfamiliar with. Her endeepened green irises are glinting and her mouth is twisted into a pout I have seen only whence she is worried about myself or our team. "I don't think I can Tsunade-" I almost add on a nickname in my thirst to keep her from reacting negative, but my lips freeze at the thought, and I know it stupid.
"Oh? And why is that?" Gracing her lips comes sarcasm, a humour I do not fully comprehend in action, hazel eyes, green, bare into me as if a soldering iron. Then flicker, in the barest of moments to the newly frightful toddler clinging upon me. Her expression does not falter, though she says something different while she stares upon me in an unspoken reprimand. My decision is uncertain by itself, though to have one I care for continuously gaze at me as if a disappointment weighs at a depth all too familiar to be a comfort and my resolve weavers. I know, under certainty, that my Hokage of all persons cannot know of my son, as my child: for she would reckon to tell the council without caution, and that is not a risk I can bare to take. I strengthen my posturing, weak though it is, and stare back upon her with as much strength as I presume to be correct under circumstance. Legality dictates, that even I -as a jinjuriki- have the right to refuse the occasional mission, without explanation should the shinobi consider it required.
Thus, I do not. "I don't have to say a word." The door softly clicks in my departure, and with the sound I lean against it nearly my entire weight, sinking down until I sit upon the floor in a slouch.
"Ba~" I cuddle Izuna closer to myself in a feeble comfort. Shaking the memories from my mind, the promise I'd so long ago made to Sakura, in a pitiful effort to reassure myself. Attempting to learn under Jiraiya, harbouring those fun times of sneaking away from angry women ready to slap us both over the head, and the occasional lesson in how to better harbor my chakra somewhere intermingled in between. Filtering itself betwixt those cherished thoughts comes the memory of my failed attempts to get the bells as a kid: I hadn't had anyone to come home to, now I do, and despite my own interests to meet, perhaps speak, to Izuna's father, I have a responsibility to my son that cannot be ignored for the festerings of curiosity.
I get up while managing a sigh, its weakened as my resolve, yet still a pull the smile over my lips as I exit the building. "Yo Naruto." The casual welcoming indicates to me whom I speak to before I turn to look at the relaxed man nearby. He's been smoking in recent still, as he always does; in polite consideration he pulls the cigarette from his lips and snuffs the bud under his sandals as he catches sight of Izuna on my hip. Grunting as he does so, but nonetheless he does, giving a simper to the toddler now eagerly waving at him. Shikamaru, as I've found, seemingly has a soft-spot for young children, my own in particular as he plays the part of besotted uncle very well. "Hey brat." Without much a care unto my own desires, he is reaching out and my son squirms into the grip of the Nara beside me. I stick out my tongue for the action, immaturity proudly showcasing itself for the first time in awhile.
"Ma-rrr." Pointing his fingers as claws I watch my little Uchiha make his attempt of a scary animal sound at Shikamaru, a slight try to be intimidating I can only imagine. I snicker at the adorable sight. For in quick succession, the small monster simply curls up on the chunin with a content sigh, I get an amused stray glance from the man in question at the action, though he does not appear to actually be looking for the reasoning.
"Going to be a wolf in the future?"
"Maybe, he sounds more like a goat most of the time." Shikamaru smirks- the most he's made to an actual laugh as of late, still he makes no renouncement.
"I never asked, who's-" He didn't finish his sentence, not for me interrupting, but for him stopping himself and merely staring in a firm manner at my twitching fingers. I had already made the presumption that Shikamaru had figured out my 'unique biology,' so to speak, perhaps even that I could bare children. Though I had not been prepared to actually hear the confrontation. In a sudden moment, the dirt between the concrete tiles surrounding the Hokage building catch my interest in my own deflection of the conversation; several specks of dust grasping my gaze in my uncertainty. Soft fingers touch at my arm, gentle and I look up into the dark brown eyes of a friend I'd known nary my entire life, whilst upon his hip my son reaches out to me, small hands with fingers that can barely curl. "I'm not going to judge you Naruto." Stern set into his tone, and I believe his serious gaze as I grab Izuna from his hold.
Yet another sigh comes to me. Common so it seems, though I can guess at what he refers to in his cryptic wording. "It's complicated. An accident technically, one night and… yeah. His father was an Uchiha, that's all I really know." My hand runs through my hair, while Shikamaru stuffs his hands into his pockets. An eyebrow raised at me, apparently not too surprised, I can see his fingers twitch for a cigarette and I am thankful that he avoids the temptation with my young son near.
"Not even his name?" I stare at him, trying to work out if he'd seen Tsunade before myself and Sakura, though I conclude he must have; not even questioning my claim that Izuna's father is Uchiha. Its momentary, but a mocking smile crosses his lips as he shakes his head. "The irony is impressive." We stare at each other then, not a word, until; "I'll see if I can inform him somehow when we find the guy. No man should be unaware he's a father." He pats my shoulder, and Izuna's, before he walks towards the governmental building. I do nothing as I watch his steps, my mouth clamped shut with knowledge, I can only make the assumption that he progresses to the mission debriefing. I would trust Shikamaru with my child's life, which is more then I can say for most people surrounding me.
I turn towards the small, nearby, park.
I feel something begin at the corners of my eyes, and as Izuna wiggles to be let down from my hold, I cautiously put him down onto the grass by my feet. Holding his hands as he attempts to toddle. Wondering if I'd screwed up too deeply to reconcile my own mistake, if my son, though precious, would cost me all ambition I'd harbored previously.
Naturally, I had accepted the cost of raising my child whence I'd realized I was pregnant, little hands clasping my own, and I stare down in wonderance; if his father would acknowledge his son or if he would find it uncouth and ignore the fact with a demeaning scowl and glaring retinas of red-cast fire. Regardless, I lean down and help small feet in their motions; Izuna is my son and he will not be tarnished by his parent's disregard. I tickle at his sides, he squirms in a fit of delighted giggles, as I kiss over his chubby cheeks, making them flush a shade of bright pinkened color. Few people are around us in spite of it being the weekend, so for the moment, it is rather safe to do so.
"What do you think? Food time?" I ask it quietly, as I swing him up into my arms, he pulls at my shirt with a pout for an expression. I take that to be a yes, and walk out of the park, in time as it would seem, as a couple enter; scowls playing on their faces as they look upon me and my son exiting. However, as my feet take me to glide around them I'm stopped by the man, a civilian judging by the might of his strength as he pushes me away from the exit. His girlfriend does nothing, watching on as I straighten my shoulders into a more domineering posturing and wait for him to say something degrading so that I may leave swiftly. The situation far too familiar for me to make a protest, as in experience it only serves to do me wrong, what bites at my mind is the consideration that I have a toddler hanging onto me for support, and I would rather he not experience the ugly truth of Konoha with such young eyes.
The man furrows his brow, staring upon our visage as if it were a scourge unto his very life. I force my throat to clamp shut and say nothing in response to the glower, though my hands hold tighter to my son as he begins to look less curious and more afraid. Which has instinct flaring within me at an alarming urgency, not as if the kyuubi were making himself known, rather my own, personal, urge to shove the man afore me despite my own knowledge that it would only gain me a punishment from either the council or Hokage -should she be forced into a corner. So in spite of the anger coiling within, I manage to force down the want to cry or to be violent, even though the man afore me is scaring my son; there is nothing for me to do, I can take no action at the risk of Izuna being taken from me. Waiting, as the man spills shouts at me, makes a declaration of his despise, accusing me of having killed his brother and father during the nine-tails attack, even though I had not been alive at the time. I glance, as Izuna whimpers, my hand running through his midnight toned hair trying to calm him down with gentle rocking.
The citizen stops, breathing heavily. My relief comes forth then even though my son still cries into my shoulder,"are you done?" Because there is little else I want to say to such a person, though my commonplace civility had fled after he'd shoved me away. He stares at me then, not saying a word, just stares, I can feel his irises on me as I walk around him. "Excuse me then." I force myself to say, I'd taught myself long ago to always be as polite as possible, and I want to pass that on by example if I can. Being seen, fourteen years old, with a child hanging off my arm and fighting a civilian would only hurt everyone involved.
Pregnancy had taken me obscure places, in the town which the meadow had been closest to, I'd found myself stationed within a library. Odd, as my ability to read was limited down to the basics of shinobi necessity, and my desire to do so had never been high as it were. In childhood, I had possessed no ability to properly distinguish letter from number in truth, and had only come to manage it by the teachings of the third hokage; later Iruka-sensei. In the academy I had only been able to read a textbook of everything, maths, history, law, tactics, there were no fun types of reading during class after all. However, whence I found myself in my second month of pregnancy, with a churning seal ripe with irate chakra and a frequent hunger demanding foods I'd not previously tasted I put myself into the books for information. It was how I had discovered myself to be expecting; and later, how I learned to properly manage my son without accidentally killing him.
While in the library of that small town, I had stumbled upon a great deal of naming books. Most of them common and plain, simplistic names that one could find in each and every nation, all countries beheld such a name within their ranks. Common names passed on through generations often enough, which I'll admit inspired me. At the time, I had been browsing a passage of 's' categorized names, when the mood had struck me to look upon clan descendant names. It was a tiny decision, but I had grinned at my choice, as at that point I had of course already guessed -known- that my lover had been an Uchiha in origin, thus it had felt only suitable that my child's name follow amongst the kin of their paternal clan; at least somewhat, in honouring his father if nothing else.
I had found his name stationed next to 'Uchiha Madara,' a founder of Konoha. Apparently, it had been his brother's name, though I had found it remarkably suitable and grinned at the sight, naming my unborn without taking into consideration anything underlying, many within Konoha did not consider Madara a founder to date as it were. A sad fate for a formerly renowned shinobi, though to take proper civilian reasoning; many within Konoha consider Madara a founder, however, he is viewed near entirely as a criminal by common social standard. I could remember thinking upon that fact looking down upon the wood of the table I'd sat at, pondering what I must appear to my own village; a villain as the kyuubi jinjuuriki, or merely a parah unto the village?
We reach the tranquility of the ramen stand where Teuchi and Ayame greet us with embrightened smiles. Izuna had only been within the shop two times within his short life, as I had not been able to afford any ramen following his birth parenthood being as expensive as it is for persons such as myself, and only popped in for a quick visit. Ayame grins my way, while Teuchi makes a beef bowl without asking. "You know Naruto, you could have bothered to see us after you got back from your ages-long mission. You were gone for months- MONTHS! We would've made something special for you if you couldn't afford-" She begins across the counter, waving a spoon about with irate eyebrows and a fist firmly set upon her hip. Her father gives me a sympathetic glance from across the counter, while Izunz attempts to crawl up the structure, passing a bowl of ramen to me, apparently disregarding the fact that I have yet to pay, or ask, for anything therein.
"I did visit you when I got back-" She glared, obviously coming to remember the memory reluctantly; as it proved her wrong. My son had been a tiny babe then, and she had been fussing around him the entire time. She, alongside her father, had been one of the first few outside of the nurses at the small town hospital whom had met Izuna-chan, and in reckoning of said fact, I watch as she huffs in my direction before proceeding to make a dish not visible to my perception. I cast my gaze to Teuchi as he laughes at her attitude, precariously moving small gasping hands away from a dangerous implement I cannot see.
He gets a goat's sound of protest in return. We all laugh at the ridiculous sound.
The bright sunlight glints off my hair within the full grasp of morning, whilst in tandem it appears to disappear into my son's hair. A fact not known unto the young boy gripping firmly into my own hair as if trying to grab the shine therein. He is sat on my shoulders, leaning over my head and pulling painfully at my hair. I'm holding onto his ankles and I've fully zipped up his jacket to protect him from the sunlight, though it will not work for long as the heat of summer swiftly approaches. It is not much, however, there are a group of former travelling businessmen and women whom come into Konoha at this time of year to give away their dejected clothing to the poor and homeless of the village. They arrive for merely a few weeks at the end of spring, and as a child I had always found it beneficial to visit them as it had been where most of my -none orange- clothing had come from. They had not rejected me for my status within the village as it were, I merely walk in the hope that such an opinion will prevail this year.
"Careful you-" I giggle, smiling up to Izuna as best I can. I do wonder upon occasion, if he can even comprehend my words. Small palms cover my eyes, some arm as he's not particularly big. "Oi! You're such a little rascal!" My heart is light as I pry the arms away from covering my eyes, laughing at the happy giggles that follow along with me. I can admit, I am not the best parent, I had forgotten breakfast originally, I'm still young- a kid really just a few years out of the academy. Still, with the little one resting on my shoulders; it is obvious that I have adapted to life on my own, from my own few years when I had been unable to pay rent, a harsh life is nothing new upon me, yet it has grown bright with the sunlight resting on my shoulders even while the stress of parenthood weighs heavy on my chest. Hearing Izuna-chan laugh at an experience I'd never before held for my own, lightens me.
We reach the riverside, where the merchants give away their defective wear. There isn't too much upon the table, and I can only assume that everyone else among us have taken what they could for themselves. Still, there is a pair of small shoes which may fit Izuna, their bottoms are a little worn and the material surrounding is slightly frayed from use; they're tiny green sandals perhaps even handmade.
I pick them up to measure against the tiny feet before me, and they do look around the right size. One of the girls watching the stock gives me a smile as she sorts through some boxes.
However, a man near her stands a slight straightening, as our eyes meet, and slowly in a progression I can track, his scowl begins to form, irises sharpening to a glass crystal that cuts unto my skin as if a slow torturous warning to leave the area.
With a look so familiar, my foot backs in sync to my instincts, fingers coiling tight around my son's delicate ankle as apprehension rises from my deep eternal precaution. Izuna quiets from his cheerful cooing in my ear, instead, I can feel his legs start to tremble in my hold. "I've heard about you. What you are-" my stomach dips, and my chest flips about in warning for his sentence. His sharp gaze flicker briefly to my son as if he bore fault, I sweep him into my arms away from the open position upon my shoulders, it is the best form of protection I can manage.
Now, my feet backing quickly, panic clenching at my chest hyperventilation threatening my breathing as I see passing locals begin to cast their attention in our direction, foreboding expressions upon them. "-You and your demonic son." Gasps escape me, tears form in my eyes, I'm backing way from confrontation as quick I might, for my mind does not have a solution as I hear the whispers around us begin.
Luck befalls however, as the meandering civilians quickly lose their interests in a sight so common; those who had been observing merely roll their eyes for my presence and walk along, in the same abstract disinterest as they had maintained most of my befitting life. A sigh of bitterly-sweetened relief comes through me then, in watching them leave, for fright had me prepping for a type of fight, the male marcheter before me merely turns away to focus upon his work; his assistant beside casting him a disappointed stare of sorts, but she too begins to ignore my presence. My teeth grit together in a fierce rejection of my own emotion, and I turn away from their stall.
I'd taken the shoes -without regret, I might add,- and slipped them upon little feet with only minor difficulty, as Izuna attempted to skirm towards the wandering duck nearby. His hands were grasping at air while his small, fat, feet kicked out and around over my chest, I steadied him with one arm while my other hand slipped on the cute green shoe. Laughing to myself at the poor colour match of green and orange; not that it mattered in our societal stance. We were walking up above the river, upon the hill paths this time, thus far from bias marketers whom set themselves on the flat area. I pried the clutching child from my embrace, and steadily placed his feet on the gravel pathway, he swayed at the sudden difference and I grip his forearms with caution. His beautiful midnight cast eyes stare up towards me, widened with adolescent curiosity, innocent by the way in which he manages to portray a grin of true joviality. I had, of course, practised with him slightly after having returned to our small apartment.
Admittedly, thanking Sakura mentally for her intimidation of the landlord, regardless of the fact that the man now gazes at me with an endeepened hatred, he mostly leaves me and Izuna be though, mainly in fear of the Hokage's possible punishment for rejecting us. Still, I keep out of my room as much as possible for now, in a continued worry for retaliation from the man -it would not be the first time, with experience I know that once he has calmed from his irritation it would be safe to stay in our apartment the entire day.
My hands automatically steady my son as he slips slightly from his bold toddle. He's doing well though, and striding forth with only small mistakes, pride swells within my gut in watching him as he grins -a beautiful smile that radiates the area with a lightness I cannot describe, even as he stumbles forward. I let go of one of his arms precariously, allowing him the freedom to decide his own direction without my guidance; I let his other hand be and he wobbles as I anxiously watch, almost sweeping him away from a plausible fall. Yet, he does not fall, he loses his balance for a portion of a second before standing upright, and with his own mindful care he moves his foot forward as if testing if it were solid ground ahead. Giggling whilst he sways from side-to-side in his movements, he's not the most graceful in his motions, still he looks to me as I watch; a bright grin straining his face, and causing my own to burst forth as a giggle escapes me too. Its a rather small childish reaction, but his delight brings forth my happiness. He's tiny, and quite young to be walking without help, merely knowing such has me sweeping him up with a laugh from both of us.
I press his nose against my own, small in comparison but warm and of my genes, my family, my son. He coos as I do. A gentle sound that is hidden just between the two of us. I'd realized only a few short months ago that Izuna, young as he may be, even by shinobi ranking standards is a prodigy. My own handle upon the world notwithstanding, a fourteen -near fifteen year old- parent raising a brilliant son is a miracle by any view. Even after so long, my seal containing my beast within burns at the memory of having birthed him, weakened by the experience; but luckily, far from broken. Still, everytime he cuddles me, it tingles at the rush of encompassing warmth I feel in my heart from the action.
Walking ability or not, we are cuddled together as I walk towards the main road. Spring warmth is prominent, and I wonder if I should buy sunscreen for his delicate skin, as Jiji had always recommended I do for myself. Though, mainly, the question is if I would be allowed into the shops selling the product, I snort at the simple thought, I would be surprised.