The book Kakashi held fell upon the bridge. "Impossible!" he demanded. "That's utterly impossible!"
With a small satisfied smile Asuma shook his head. "No, Kakashi. It's not impossible. It's only fantastic, but not an impossible story at all."
Kakashi began to walk in circles. "But – that's all impossible!"
"Not impossible, fantastic," Asuma stressed.
"Whatever." Then he paused in his tracks. "What – was there any proof? What made them conclude such a – as you refer to it – fantastic theory? We all know what happened to N- to him."
Asuma nodded. "There was proof. Do you remember his best skill?"
Kakashi could not help himself from laughing. "The Harem no Jutsu?"
Asuma shook his head. "The other skill. The one Jiraiya-sama taught him."
Kakashi remembered. It became one of Naruto's greatest jutsu, sadly. "Yeah, what about it then?"
Sakura was discharged from the hospital later that evening. After saying polite farewells she went straight home via the backdoor, unwilling to face Takai's and Hakame's families who were waiting for her in the hospital compound. She had not known why they waited for her, neither did she care. All she wanted was time for herself.
She spent the night thinking about everything that had happened six days ago. Normally she would tell herself that this was not her fault, but somehow something was amiss. She fell asleep trying to figure it all out.
Satoshi paid her a visit the next day. "I thought the orders were lifted when I exited the hospital yesterday," she said when she saw him at the front door.
Satoshi cracked a silly grin and bowed at her a few times rapidly. It seemed he liked the bandage-and-jacket style, because here, today, Satoshi stood with a different jacket, and wrapped in fresh bandages. If anything, the bandages only served to emphasize the breadth of his chest. "Actually, I'm just checking up on you. I have to apologize about yesterday, too."
"I don't remember you making a mistake."
"I – I called your name instead of sempai." Satoshi recalled how he felt quite liberated when he called her real name instead of the term. Then he had ratified his guilt by telling himself that no matter what, Sakura was still his senior, level-wise. "I'm sorry."
He hastily added: "And to give you this. My mother made it."
Satoshi took out his hand hidden at his back. He had been hiding a beautiful cardboard box that looked suspiciously like a sushi box set. "Well, that's it. I hope they're your favourite; teriyaki, seafood sushi, and some miso."
Sakura took the box from him, looked at him, and waited. Satoshi meanwhile looked restless. "I guess," he said after a long moment passed, as he stepped back from the door, "I'll be leaving. Enjoy it."
As he turned his back to Sakura and prepared to walk away, she called to him: "I think I'll need some help, Satoshi. I can't finish this all by myself. Besides, I've got tea brewing on the stove."
Satoshi looked over his shoulders. "Is that an invitation?" he asked. Hope against hope.
Sakura smiled at him. "No. It's an order. And I'm barely a year older than you, so drop the senior-junior thing."
Empty plates lay upon the table. Chopsticks, still sticky with miso, littered here and there. Sakura and Satoshi meanwhile had retreated to the window seat where she used to daydream of days of long ago, sipping their tea in silence.
Sakura broke the silence as she put her cup away. "Your mother is a great cook. I'm ashamed to be a woman."
Satoshi watched her over the rim of his cup. His eyes, blue on one side and green on the other, were full of fond emotions. "I beg to differ, Sakura. You're good enough a woman."
Sakura did not notice this; she was staring at the clouds. "For whom? I don't think no man could love a woman who could barely cook without setting the house on fire. Not to mention a complete failure in ikebana. Ino had to teach me –"
"Ino?" Satoshi interjected. "Ino, as in the Anbu team?" Sakura nodded. "Wow, I didn't know you are friends!"
Sakura cringed. "I don't think she'd agree to that, Satoshi. We're more like rivals. Rivals in school and rivals in love."
Too late, she had said it, and just as soon the old pain began to throb inside her. Great. Just when her moods were getting better. She reached for her cup but grazed her fingers at the rim and sent the poor piece of fine porcelain down onto the streets. It hit the pavement and crashed, and someone below cursed. Sakura's eyes became cold and distant once again as she stared briefly at Satoshi and got up and walked inside. Somewhere a door was shut close.
Satoshi's left eyebrow rose quizzically. For a minute or two he considered what he should do now. Looking skyward, he realised it was about to rain. He closed the window with an accidental slam. Then he moved toward the table and began clearing it. Carefully balancing all of the utensils on his hands and arms he walked gingerly toward the kitchen sink. He placed them inside the sink and began washing a plate, cognizant to let the water run slowly.
Suddenly a door down to the left of the sink opened and Sakura came through it. It didn't take a genius to realise she had been crying.
"What are you still doing here?" Sakura asked, obviously ashamed by this state of self and angry that Satoshi was still here. "I thought you left."
Satoshi dried the plate and began washing another, trying his best to look nonchalant and not to notice her reddened eyes and nose. He decided not to ask her why she had cried. "I slammed the window accidentally."
Sakura pushed him away from the sink even as he grabbed a plate, ready to wash. "Go home, Satoshi."
"Just a bit –"
"Go – home – already."
He knew when to back away. Satoshi washed his hands and left, still in a bit of a daze. Later that evening he decided to meet his ex-mentor in the local Korean BBQ joint. Ino would always be found there with Chouji and that excellent leader, Shikamaru, tagging along.
Ino picked at her meat disinterestedly.
"I'm gonna eat that if you don't, Ino," Chouji said with his chopstick hovering above the meat like a butterfly over some luscious, honey-laden flower.
"Go ahead, Chouji," she said. If this was ten years ago, she would have stopped him and dragged him outside. But now that they were all adults, Ino wondered whether she could lift up something as big as Chouji. He tipped the scale at 235 pounds, his pants got bigger everyday (to her it seemed), and food – where should she begin elaborating about his passion for food? Would it be his endless craving for bovine-flavoured potato chips, or did he prefer rice balls the least?
Her mind ruminated on these as Chouji, with grand flourish, ate the last piece.
But like his father, Chouji gained in height what he gained weight, so this made him look dangerously intimidating. Ino was thankful of that; if he didn't, Chouji would have looked like a midget.
"I'm worried," began Shikamaru, who was sitting opposite her. Asuma had left earlier, probably some late night call with Kurenai. It was no secret that they had started seeing each other after –
Ino quickly shut her eyes. Even thinking about it made her heart hurt. It might help listening to Shikamaru's bitching instead. She opened her eyes and turned to Shikamaru, who gingerly sipped his drink. "Yeah, Shikamaru, what are you worried about?"
Shikamaru was the only person of her batch – the ones who took the Chuunin exams that ended in an all-out war with the Sand and the Sound – who remained a Chuunin. His reasons were simple: being a Jounin was too troublesome. Now he stayed in the village and taught in the academy, replacing Iruka who had recently taken an interest in doing missions.
"The Genin examination is around the corner," he reflected after a brief pause. "I don't know what I must ask my students to do. Should I make them do a difficult jutsu or just a simple one?"
Chouji burped loudly. Ino restrained herself from pinching him. Pinching a half-an-inch of fat-covered skin was useless. She learnt that some years ago – quickly she shook herself mentally.
"You should stick to the traditions, Shikamaru," Chouji said, wiping his lips with a tissue. At least he's got a sense of table manners, Ino thought. "Bunshin is good for testing these kids. That's the basic one. Ah, so does Kawarimi. But I doubt your students can pass at all."
Shikamaru directed an irritated glance at him, the proverbial angry vein popped on his forehead. "What do you mean by that?"
"Hey," Chouji said good-humouredly, tapping a rolled-up tissue on Shikamaru's forehead. It was a teasing gesture from Chouji. "Hey, cool down. I'm just stating the facts, okay? Besides, I heard from my neighbour's boy that 'Shikamaru-sensei teaches us nothing but stare at clouds all day and reflect upon it while sleeping.' What kind of a teacher are you?"
"Hey," Shikamaru replied, waving the tissue away, "quit that. For your information, Chouji, I have my own methods. Besides, don't you remember how much the two us learnt in one sitting?"
Chouji tried to recall, and remembered it. It must have been a fond memory; he smiled like a well-fed cat. "Yeah, I remember. We get to know each other and you told me why you didn't play with those kids. And we chatted about lots of jutsu, your clan's and mine, and how we could trick enemies by combining our jutsu together."
Shikamaru spread his hands as if receiving a gift from above. "Well, what can I say; I'm good at lazing around. Even with lazing around, I could teach you. I'm doing the same to my students, and I think they performed just fine."
"Ino, what about you? Right after the retrieval you've become rather quiet."
She turned at Chouji and was about to open her mouth when the front door curtain, emblazoned with the Kanji DAITETSAKU BBQ, parted to let in a man with only jacket and bandages covering his chest. He caught her eyes and began walking toward their table.
He bowed to each of them respectfully, then asked, "May I join you, seniors?"
Shikamaru scooted to make room for him and briefly glanced at the bandaged chest. His mother was the one who treated this young man back in the hospital. "You should put on something thicker than your own skin, Satoshi. Your wound won't heal swiftly if you walk around half-naked."
Satoshi bowed his head even lower. "I know, Shikamaru-san, but all my shirts are still wet. Please send your mother my thanks for dressing my wounds." Shikamaru nodded. Satoshi turned to Ino. "I learnt from Sakura-san that you two are friends. Why is it I never saw the two of you together?"
Ino ceased playing with her chopsticks. Satoshi noticed this, fortunately, and stopped himself from asking further question.
"I – take it that this is not a good time for such question," he said silently.
"I have to leave," she muttered. Ino dropped the chopsticks, got up and left.
Chouji shook his head as Ino went out. "You, kid, ask the most sensitive question at the worst time." He popped into his mouth a potato chip.
"This is going to be troublesome," Shikamaru said as he got up.
"Where are you going?" Chouji asked. "Who's gonna pay for this?"
Satoshi, feeling responsible for wrecking their meeting, volunteered. "Hey! Good, kid! I like you already!" Chouji exclaimed, slapping a heavy hand on Satoshi's back.
Shikamaru walked out as he heard Chouji ordered another round of beef.
Hinata looked outside of her window. It was a cool night, with the breeze blowing now and then. It carried the scent of the forest, which was why she often let her windows open at night. Neji often admonished her for this, but since she turned a deaf ear at him, he had ceased bringing up the matter. She guessed it would rain later that night, but it would not matter.
From this window she could see the courtyard, bathed by the light that spilled from the room downstairs. Shadows moved, swift and agile. Now and then a cry was heard, but Hinata merely smiled. She knew her sister and his father were practising downstairs. Although the Chuunin Examinations would not begin in two months' time, her father had insisted on sparring.
From the sounds she judged her father had beaten her sister for about four times in a row now. She recalled the days when she was the subject of her father's 'attention'. Every night, she would go back to bed with sore bones and muscles. She did not even have time to read scrolls because she would drop on her bed and immediately fall asleep.
She became shy and unsure of herself as a result of this merciless training. Her father, each time she fell, defeated, would taunt her with words that should have been unfit for her young ears. Often, her mother would try to interfere but her father would angrily ask her not to. The only thing she could do was to put on balm on Hinata's tired and battered body, and said encouraging words, that it was all for her own good.
She often wondered whether it was an abuse. Looking back and reconsidering everything, Hinata wanted to think that it was done in her best interest, like what her mother used to whisper to her through her weary tears. Her father's army-like drills, unsympathetic and absolutely merciless, had shaped her abilities until they were almost as good as Neji's. Now she was still shy, demure and talked in low tones, but she was no longer unsure of herself. She knew herself, she knew her place.
Thanks to Naruto, of course. Although after the Sasuke incident he was no longer a hero – in fact the meaner part of Konoha Village said he never was – Hinata secretly still adored him. If it weren't for him, Hinata would have never come out as who she was today.
She cast another longing glance outside, toward the dark forest that bordered the village. It looked very tranquil and calm now, with the sound of nocturnal animals and the crickets as its music. Faintly she could hear rain began to pour down, not in torrents but in a slight drizzle.
They said he ran into the forests when it happened. Hinata somehow hoped she would happened upon him during one of her mission, and try to tell him that even after all these things, Naruto was and always a hero. Or even try to talk him into rejoining the village as part of the Leaf. She wondered how he would look like now. She also wondered whether he'd join the notorious Akatsuki group. All the powerful rogue ninjas did.
With a shudder she threw that idea away. Naruto would never join them! She was sure of it! They were too bad for someone as noble and as heroic as Naruto.
Are you sure?
She slept uneasily with that question in her mind.
He had promised me everything would be fine.
Sakura laid her head on the soft pillow and tried to sleep. Already, though, drowsiness overtook her senses, which was fine with her. Her mother left two hours ago after making sure she was right and proper and had taken all of her medicine. She also washed the dishes, which Sakura did not ask her to.
It rained slightly when her mother had left, and still was. The drizzle outside made a calming music, and in her dark room Sakura somehow felt a little relaxed. The pain in her right arm had subsided, partly from the medicine she took just now. The medicine also promoted drowsiness, and in less than three minutes Sakura fell asleep.
When she woke up it was probably almost dawn, because she could not see anything. Even the sky outside was at its darkest and Sakura felt a little bit of fear rise in her throat. Quickly she grabbed a candle she always kept on her end table and lit it with a match. When the flame became a bright beacon she sighed in relief and turned toward the window to close it.
What the candlelight revealed at the window, although briefly, made her fall off the bed and she almost screamed. But she could not scream, because surprise made she lost her voice. The candle fell to the other side of the bed and rolled away from her, leaving her in darkness.
"How – what – you…!" was all she could manage after a pause, pregnant with questions she was afraid to ask, as the figure at the window jumped inside as stealthily as a cat.
The candle rolled away a few more feet before it stopped and was lifted up. Soft footfalls moved toward her, while its owner bore the candle. The candle lent a bit of light that outlined the figure's features. Its pallid light revealed a burnished, unkempt blonde head, a pair of blonde brows, blue eyes that had seen more pain than good days, and a beard that made him look ages older. He knelt before Sakura, bringing the candle down with him. He dripped some wax upon the floor and put the candle securely there.
"I see you've gotten the proper medical attention," the figure said, crouching, ready to move at the slightest suspicious sound. His voice, though, was relaxed and conversational. "Glad you're okay, Sakura... chan."
Sakura swallowed. Only one soul called her name with that suffix. Everything now came back to her.
The unused explosive kunai-tag…
The explosion she never started…
The yellow streak…
"It was you," she hissed. "You killed Kin."
"I did what I have to do," he replied. "You're a medic jounin now, I see. Are you following Tsunade-sama's steps?"
"You have absolutely no right to say her name," Sakura said. Her fingers crept toward a thin wire hanging unseen, she hoped, by him. "How did you get past the guards? They should be on lookout for you, a missing nin."
She heard a deep rumble coming from his direction. It seemed to be some sort of a laugh, but Sakura was not sure. "I don't come here expecting words of thanks. You still don't know how to acknowledge me, do you?"
"I'd rather see me dead," Sakura spat back. She should feel unsafe with him. But he did not seem dangerous. At this time at least. "How did you find me? What do you want?"
"To see you," he said simply. She could sense a certain amount of emotion in his words that made her feel almost sorry – but this man was dangerous. "Kin deserved what he had."
"And did you?" she asked.
He hung his head. "Don't start, Sakura."
"You didn't! You never deserved what you had! Why did you make a promise then failed to keep it!? Why did you do it all?!"
Sakura felt her eyes were stinging with tears. She saw as he took one finger and drove it across one eye, catching the unshed tears on it, withdrew, and rubbed his thumb against it. This time when he spoke, she heard a certain humour in his voice. "You always cry, don't you, Sakura? Even back when we were in the Chuunin exams."
"Shut up," she said bitterly, quickly wiping her eyes and shot him a deadly glance. "I'm different now."
The faint outline of a huge head moved as if in a nod. "You are different now, Sakura. You're stronger. I sensed it in the forest. I sense it now, in you."
"What do you want?" she asked again. "I can summon the whole village to catch you now, and I won't hesitate to do it."
There was a rustle and by the candlelight she saw him; no longer a thin, prepubescent, irritating boy, but a man whose height suddenly dwarfed the whole room. His hand went down to catch her hair and held it almost lovingly; she gasped and withdrew back but did not stop him.
"You would have done it a few minutes ago if you really wanted to catch me," he said forlornly. Only then Sakura realised that the thin wire which was connected to an alarm outside her house had been cut off. Somehow he did that without her seeing him doing so.
She turned to him in time to see a thick smoke in his place. Sakura did not bother to give a chase; he would have gone too far even for her to follow. The only thing left now was the candle and an empty room.
As she sat there she saw the first signs of dawn. In her mind an old haiku reverberated like a bad song:
After night's darkness;
Leaves me wondering.
A/N: That was long... and I even have the time to think of a haiku. Is the
form correct? If any of the readers know and love haiku, I hope mine doesn't
offend them... Thanks for the wonderful reviews, guys! I promise to try updating this story as soon as humanely possible now that I realise I have a LOT of datelines to meet!! Maybe I'll hire an assistant! LOL! Please review when you're done reading! I can feel this one's gonna be one hell of a long story!