Chapter 8
Sunlight slipped through the cracks of a slatted apartment window. It was midmorning – a time when most people sought motivation and productivity. For others, it was the perfect opportunity to catch up on some much-needed rest.
There were many housing complexes in Konohagakure. The best apartments, however, could be found in mixed-use buildings. Kazumi Nakamura's flat, for instance, was situated on the top floor of a sleepy ramen house. Though the restaurant itself needed work, the upper level had been renovated two years ago.
Kazumi left home before the sun could crest the treetops. On her way out, she scribbled a note on lined paper and stuck it under a cup of instant noodles. Her guest – who dozed under a large, fluffy blanket – would want for nothing in her absence.
The steady tick, tick, tick of a clock settled in amongst the silence. Its cadence might have been inconspicuous to some, but it was enough to rouse Kakashi from his slumber. He yawned and reached for what should have been the headboard of his bed. When his fingers bunched against the arm of Kazumi's couch, he sat bolt upright.
At first, he did not recognize the cozy, cluttered living room. Muted colors took shape as he rubbed the fog from his eyes. The first thing that he noticed was a large, cream-colored beanbag chair. Momo, Kazumi's cat, occupied it for the time being.
"How long was I out?" he mumbled, glancing at the clock. The time was 9:26 a.m. "Huh. I'll be later than I thought…" Kakashi swung his legs over the side of the couch and took a deep breath. "Damn. I really overdid it last night."
Momo's ears twitched when the man spoke. She opened her eyes briefly before resuming her nap.
"I wonder if Guy is any worse for wear today." Grunting, the man climbed to his feet and lumbered toward the kitchen. "I hope Umi-chan doesn't mind if I–"
There was no need to snoop through the pantry. His eyes found the ramen cup that Kazumi left on the table. Before Kakashi unwrapped the package, he picked up the note and read it aloud.
"Morning! Hope you slept well. I didn't have time to make breakfast, but ramen is great for hangovers. I have a feeling you'll need it. Best, Kazumi." Kakashi put the note aside and reached for his breakfast. "That was nice." He sighed and undid the plastic wrap. "You didn't have to do that, Umi."
Kakashi paced around her living room. The noodle cup bubbled in the microwave, and he was waiting – rather impatiently – for it to be ready.
"I wonder if she left her lesson plan too," he said. "Guess I could read it while I eat."
Her lesson plan could have been hiding anywhere. Kazumi was an avid reader; the bookcase in her living room had five shelves, each packed tightly with tomes of various size and genre. There were even a few composition notebooks among them. It made sense to look there first.
Kakashi selected one that had bright, blue backing. He pulled it from the shelf and began to flip through the pages. To his surprise, she hadn't written in it yet.
"Not that one," he muttered. Kakashi put it back and chose another. The next one was a lovely shade of green. It too, however, had not been used. "Did she write in any of these?"
The microwave beeped but Kakashi paid it no mind. He was invested.
"What about this one?" he placed the brown, leather journal in one hand and opened to a random page. Though he hadn't found a lesson plan, he had found something worth reading. "This is…" Kakashi plodded to the couch and sank onto a warm, downy cushion.
Kazumi was writing a romance novel of her own.
His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red when he turned the page. There, etched in pencil, was a detailed "spur-of-the-moment" tryst between the female protagonist and her lover. "On a desk?" he whispered, glancing across the room. Kazumi's desk – which was tucked under a window – matched its description perfectly. The tiniest bit of blood dripped from Kakashi's nose as he read on. It appeared that he would be very late indeed.
Across the village, Kazumi led her students in a series of prearranged sparring drills. Though they were eager to apply their skills in hand-to-hand combat, it was imperative to review the basics.
Kazumi had chosen Emiko as her partner. Of the three genin in her squad, Emiko struggled most with self-control. The last thing she needed was for Jun or Hiroshi to incur an injury on day two.
"Again," she commanded, squaring off. Kazumi glanced at the other pair. "Number ten. Remember, Jun: you're attacking. You need to start right foot forward."
Jun nodded and switched her feet. The drills were beneficial for her; she – unlike Hiroshi and Emiko – was not well-versed in taijutsu.
"Hajime!"
As soon as she gave the command, Emiko threw a right front kick at her opponent. Kazumi countered with a knee block and stepped back.
"Good," Kazumi said, "left roundhouse."
Emiko kicked with her left leg. Once again, Kazumi used a knee block to absorb the blow. When her student performed the final technique, she circled the arm, trapped it, and swept Emiko's leg. Consequently, the girl fell into the grass with a soft thud.
Jun, on the other hand, landed badly. Instead of guiding his partner to the ground, Hiroshi dropped her. "My arm!" she wailed, holding the limb to her chest. Tears poured from Jun's eyes, dotting the purple fabric of her dress. "I fucking hate you, Hiroshi!"
He crouched by her side when he realized what had happened. "It was an accident!" he shrieked. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"
Kazumi had never seen Jun cry. The injury must have been serious. "Hey," she cooed, kneeling beside her. Though she seemed calm, Kazumi felt nowhere near; how would she explain this to her parents? "Jun, here. Look at me."
Jun continued to sob. "It h-h-hurts," she blubbered.
"Let me look."
Kazumi turned her head toward Emiko. The red-headed child showed no emotion as she approached the scene. While that was peculiar in and of itself, what really caught her attention were the girl's eyes; they had turned an unnatural shade of green. Kazumi gazed skyward, wondering if the strange glow could be caused by the sun. To her surprise, the sky was swathed in a thick layer of clouds.
Only then did it become clear: Emiko was using dōjutsu.
"Let me look," Emiko insisted.
Jun sniveled and slowly outstretched her arm. "D-Don't touch it!"
"I don't need to touch it." She lowered herself into the grass. True to her word, she did not move the limb. "You're ridiculous," she said at last. "It isn't broken. You sprained it."
"H-How do you know?" Hiroshi whimpered, wiping his eyes.
"I know," she said. "And that's all you need to know." The eerie hue dulled as Emiko climbed to her feet. She offered a hand to Jun. "Come on. Get up."
Jun begrudgingly accepted the gesture. "Arigatou," she huffed.
It struck Kazumi as odd that Jun hadn't questioned the diagnosis. Did she know that her friend possessed a kekkei genkai? That question – and many others – would have to wait; Jun's welfare was more important than her curiosity.
"Hiroshi, Emiko – you are dismissed for the afternoon," Kazumi said. "We will meet here again tomorrow."
"Same time?" Hiroshi asked. He dried his tear-stained nose on the end of his sleeve.
"Same time. Eight o'clock."
"Alright," Emiko replied. She strayed from the group and went to collect her things.
"Jun?" Kazumi placed a hand on the girl's back. "We need to get you to the hospital."
"Okay," she murmured. "But what about my parents?"
"I'll see if Iruka-sensei can get in touch with them," she replied. "And then I can walk you home. Deal?"
"Deal."
By the time Kazumi and her student finished their conversation, Emiko had already started her trek home. Hiroshi, though, stayed behind to check on his classmate. "I really am sorry," he said. "My hand slipped. I couldn't catch you in time."
"…I tried to break my fall," she admitted. "I didn't do it the way that Kazumi-sensei showed us."
That was as close to an apology as Hiroshi would get.
"Alright," Kazumi said, "we'll see you tomorrow, Hiroshi-kun."
The boy nodded and went on his way. While they could have traveled together, Kazumi meant to speak with Jun privately. When they stepped off, she did just that. "How long have you known about Emiko's kekkei genkai?" she asked.
Jun seemed unfazed by the question. "I don't know," she replied. "Why? Does it matter?"
"Well," she began, "my goal is to help you – all of you – succeed. I can't do that if-"
"No," Jun interjected, "that's your job."
Kazumi frowned. "They can't be one in the same? Sure, it's my 'job' – but I care about you."
"Then why did you leave?" Jun stopped walking and glared in Kazumi's direction. Her mood changed in an instant. "Emiko and me? We had to repeat your class – and you weren't even there!" There was venom on her tongue. "You just left!"
Until then, Kazumi hadn't given her absence a second thought. "You've been angry with me for a long time, haven't you?" she asked. When Jun didn't reply, she filled the empty silence herself. "I got promoted," she said apologetically. "I couldn't stay at the Academy. I was needed elsewhere."
It was a sound explanation. Nevertheless, Jun appeared indifferent. "Whatever," she said. "Doesn't matter anymore. Just – never mind. I don't want to talk about it."
All Kazumi could do was respect her wishes. When Jun turned in the direction of town, she did too. Neither of them spoke a word for the duration of their journey.