A/N: Mmrrewh, this school year marks the beginning of the 5th year that I'm taking Japanese :D But this teacher is grading harder since it's an IBH class and no longer giving so much extra credit, so that means no more getting over 100... T-T Ah well, hopefully I'll be able to learn more this year. Well, here's the next chapter as promised, I'll try to pick up the pace...some...er. But I managed to update all 3 of my Naruto ficthings within 1 week despite all the school and extracirricular responsibilities! So there's hope yet! Oh yes. Fic starts to deviate from the official storyline here .. I'm sorry.

CHAPTER 17: The Next Move

She peeked inside.

The conference room was small and circular, with just enough room to comfortably fit the twenty-odd Jounins present. The only peice of furniture other than the ceiling light was a long rectangular wooden table set against the wall directly opposite her. Behind it were three wooden, high-backed chairs that seated the Hokage and his two advisors.

She knew that the two used to be the Third Hokage's teammates, but couldn't recall their names. The old woman's name was flower-something, she remembered. Hibana. That was it. Or maybe it was Kohana. She couldn't be sure. As for the name of the bespectacled old man, she couldn't remember if her life depended on it.

Hayate was still talking to the Jounin (or Chuunin, she really couldn't be sure since their uniforms were the same) outside the door. Conversing in low tones, neither seemed to be paying any attention to her, so she went back to looking at the room through the partially open door. Having inspected the room itself, she began to count the number of occupants she could recognize on sight.

Kakashi was the first one she noticed, with his horrid gray mop of hair sticking up in every possible direction. She wondered if he purposely infused it with chakra, or something, so it would be that way--Anti-gravity no jutsu? She thought. Who knows.

Kurenai and Anko, being the only females in the room (asides from the old woman) and the only ones not wearing the Jounin uniform, were also spotted with ease.

A curl of smoke gave away Asuma's location, and next to him was a familiar-looking Jounin with glasses. Behind him sat the imposing figure of Morino Ibiki. His scars made her wince and quickly move her eyes a few more places to the left, where there was a ninja who, appearantly, had his hitai-ate on backwards. She didn't need to see the dirty-blonde hair or the long stick-like thing dangling out of the man's smirking mouth to recognize Shiranui Genma. She squinted at the thing, trying to figure out exactly what it was, but promptly gave up as Genma was talking to another Jounin beside him, causing the thing--whatever it was--to keep moving up and down, right and left, around and around and making her dizzy as hell.

She looked around a bit more and was surprised to realize that the dynamic figure of Maito Gai was missing. She checked again just to be sure: nope, there wasn't a sparkling smile or a single bowl haircut in sight. Maybe he's hospitalized? she wondered doubtfully. She didn't have a chance to give it more thought, for Hayate had suddenly finished talking and was now gently pushing her through the door.

The first thing she noticed was that everyone had stopped talking to stare at her. The sudden silence was unnerving, and the sheer number of gazes directed at her made her extremely uncomfortable. What increased her discomfort even more was the nature of some of these gazes.

Some were staring in pure curiousity. Some gave her friendly smiles, while others appraised her with suspicion through narrowed eyes. But some looked angry, and some-

She gulped as she realized that some were actually regarding her with open hostility. She didn't know why they were staring at her so furiously-it's not as if she could possibly be seen as a threat...could she?

She wondered how she must appear to them: a slender, 16-year old girl with black hair pulled back into a ponytail, uneven bangs framing a pale face that had seen too little of the sun, and dressed simply in an unobstrusive manner.

At least, she thought it was simple. Proper etiquette dictated formal wear for important meetings; but she had none such stuff among her own belongings and, though hesitant of wearing the clothes found in the closet, had finally gave in to temptation and grabbed a yukata, sashed by a standard obi, and the navy blue sandals she'd found at the bottom of the closet that everyone seemed to wear.

The yukata was a dullish-looking white with a bit of gray trim, and the obi a boring dark blue; both were plain and didn't have any markings or pattern on them. The only thing untraditional about it was that the yukata ended just a few inches above her knee; probably some new summer variation to make it cooler and more marketable during the warm weather that seemed to dominate Konoha village for most of the year.

She didn't have any weapons, visible or hidden, on her person--only the pocket Japanese-English English-Japanese dictionary clutched tightly in her hands. All in all, rather impossible to be seen as a potential threat, but the glares directed at her never wavered.

It was, quite simply, nerve-wracking.

She'd pulled her share of pranks in the past and faced angry teachers and parents threatening to lock her up until she was thirty, but that was vastly different from having at least five or six different people staring at her with a palpable murderous intent. She gulped again and took a step back-right onto Hayate's foot.

"Mou shiwake gozaimasen deshita!" she immediately blurted out.

Thankfully, her minor faux pas seemed to have broken the tension in the room as well as the eerie silence, and she suddenly found herself being dissected and examined through conversational means.

"Hn. It's just a kid," Genma commented disinterestedly above the revived chatter. She suddenly recieved a very strong impression that he would be notably more interested only if she were at least five years older and at least five inches more endowed in...certain body parts.

"She would look just like another student at the Academy if she were a bit younger," another Jounin was saying.

"Hmph, never trust an innocent face," Ibiki was muttering to Asuma. "The cuter they look, the more you can't trust them." However, he wasn't looking at her, but rather kept glancing in Anko's direction.

She briefly wondered which she should be more amused at--the fact that Ibiki had just indirectly called her "cute", or the fact that his statement was quite obviously referring to the bouncy hyperactive kunoichi Anko.

Right then, however, the Hokage cleared his throat, effectively gathering the attention of everyone in the room. Silence immediately settled across the room once more.

The meeting had started.

Through the course of the next 40 or so minutes, she found herself being asked about everything from her personal history to her likes and dislikes, her school, her house, her family, country, culture, customs, and politics, from topics as broad as religion to topics as mundane as how many pets she had (none, except for some coachroaches). In addition, they were also very interested in determining how much she knew about the people and places here. It was a rather long and tasking process in which both her memory and her limited ability to speak Japanese were sorely tested.

In the end, what was decided was that a team of Chuunins would accompany her back to her world for purposes of "research". She was given vague sketchy details of a missing civilian that might have accidentally gone to "her part of the universe" and was instructed to guide around the "escorts" they sent her. A convenient excuse to keep an eye on me and spy around at the same time, she supposed. A mission that originally was to be delegated to Kakashi and his team of genins as they were the "pioneers" of the "First Crossing", but due to the imminent Chuunin exams, the Hokage decided to turn the mission over to some Chuunins instead, and asked her to pick out a pair of Chuunin-level ninjas she felt would most fit in easily in her home world.

As for which two Chuunins she had in mind, she had no doubt of her perfect candidates.

"Soon...my plan shall be executed..." the cold voice hissed out.

"Indeed, Orochimaru-sama," a sly, servile voice replied. Light glinted off a pair of glasses resting on the nose of a gray-haired boy. "Our agents have reached the destinated cities already. I believe they will soon acquire the two people you desire."

"Very well, Kabuto. I know I can depend on you."

"Of course, Orochimaru-sama." The boy bowed left, the evil smirk on his face mirroring that of his black-haired master's.

A deep, mirthless chuckle filled the room. "Who wants to bother with insignificant Konoha, when I have an entire new universe to conquer here?" Orochimaru laughed derisively. "Nevertheless, it will be interesting to watch those fools crumble, while my new empire...awaits me here." A pale smooth hand slammed down on the cover of...

...an issue of Seventeen.

.

A/N: MUHAHAHAH. I leave you to wonder.

I know that a standard Chuunin team is made of 4 ninjas, but for the purposes of stealth and gathering information, involving too many people would be counter-effective, so I reduced the number to two.

Note on storyline: many kind reviewers have mentioned that the storyline moves at a rather slow pace. :sweatdrops: I'm sorry; it's hard for me to organize my thoughts and decide which scenes are, and aren't needed...I just really want to develop every teensy bit and peice .; This isn't really an action genre fic as it is an adventure; though, and in a weak defense, I'd just like to say that I don't really like to rush things, and I think that finding disaster and saving the world in the course of a week is very unlikely.

What with the insane amount of characters I plan to incorporate into this thing, I suppose it must move at a snail's pace, eh...?
Er...well...this is not like the kind of fic where two often-paired up characters meet up, suddenly fall madly in love, and are having sex and exchanging marriage vows by the day's end-while those kind of fiction can be perfectly fine and dandy it just seems rather unrealistic to me and it's just not how I operate XD;

So, in the end, I suppose the conclusion becomes that this is a very verbose and drawn-out story, meant for those with patience T.T therefore...to what readers I have, I kindly beg of you to please bear with me. P

Obi: name of the belt used on Japanese kimono/yukata
Mou shiwake gozaimasen deshita: very formal way of saying "sorry". English equivalent would probably be something along the lines of "I'm terribly sorry (please forgive me)."