(A/N: Thanks for the reviews!
Ravyn-09: I guess Itachi tripping and falling in the snow is rather amusing, ne?
KageKitsune16: Ah, Sasuke's not quite a rock bottom. And don't hate Sakura. She hates herself enough.
SilverLook: Wrong? It's wrong? Yay! All the more reason for me to do it. I'm very evil, what can I say?
Mister Pineapple: At least it didn't strike lower. And somehow, it seems incredibly odd that Naruto's a "spineless dick". Hm. . .I cannot write characters in character for beans. ::sigh::
To the person who made that face that I cannot make, as ffnet ish ebil: I suppose you like the story.
Yuen-chan: It's fall here. And bloody cold. My feet ache with cold. ::puts feet in hot chocolate:: As long as it's warm. . .
Neko Oni: I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. Most of the chapters in this fic average about 12 pages. I think. 12 pages x 12 chapters. . .is. . .124 pages? Bah. It's supposedly 130 pages or so long in total, so I dunno. Can't do math.
artemis347: I'm glad you're enjoying the new chapters!
And now, on with the fic!)
Chapter 10: Silence in the Sunshine
"Oh, Hinata," Naruto whined to the maid. "I can't believe I let him go so easily!"
Hinata sighed and continued to set the plates on the table. This was the third morning since the prince's return, and so far, all he'd done was whine and complain and mope about letting Sasuke go.
It hurt her to see him like this, so she let the last plate clatter to the table and sat down in the chair nearest him and took his warm hand in her own, feeling hers trembling with nervousness. "Naruto-sama, you did the right thing," she said, her voice soft and gentle.
The blond prince said nothing, then threw himself into her arms, sobbing fitfully. "Oh, Hinata!" he wailed, loudly, and she blushed, startled and afraid someone might hear.
"I'm such a fool! I let him go, I let him go! I should have disagreed to the marriage, I should have said no - I loved him, I loved him - I still do!"
His ranting turned into indecipherable whimpers and sobs, and he rested his head against her chest, his tears wetting the fabric of her uniform. She turned an even deeper crimson. Hesitantly, then bolder, she placed a hand on his head, letting her fingers curl in the soft golden tresses. "Naruto-sama, Naruto-sama, please don't cry. Please, please," she trailed off, feeling tears prick at her own eyes from seeing her prince in such distress.
Naruto said nothing more, and they stayed like that for a long, long time, neither saying anything - Hinata too embarrassed and too caught up in the moment to do anything; Naruto too miserable.
At long last, the prince unfolded himself from the maid's embrace, and tenderly, leaned up and gingerly placed a shy kiss on her lips. He backed off, standing up and bowing. "Thank you, Hinata," he said, then took leave of the room.
Hinata placed a hand to her lips and sat back, completely stupefied by the prince's actions.
- - - - - - - -
The screamed pierced the air, and there was a roar, like footsteps, careening through the snowy woods. Itachi lay, wide-eyed, unable to move in case he was spotted.
It was too late to move anyways, because the Kiri forces came spilling over the crest of the mountain, brandishing their weapons, their teeth, and their claws. He ducked down in the snow, and hoped not to be trampled to death, as they came thundering by him, only to scream and lash out viciously when a pair of arms snatched him up out of the snow.
A hand clamped down over his mouth, and two fingers pinched his nose, cutting off his air. He squirmed and kicked, all to no avail. The world became very dark and fuzzy, fading back into the black night that it had just come from.
"Hello Uchiha Itachi," someone said, just before he blacked out.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Orochimaru was to his feet as soon as he heard the war cry. He'd been lingering ever since Itachi had left his arms, in between sleep and true consciousness. Now, however, he was truly and fully awake, his eyes snapping dangerously.
Where the hell was Itachi?! He looked at his soldiers, some still sleeping, some rousing themselves now that they'd heard the approaching thunder cloud. "Move!" he shouted at them, clutching at his own forgotten weapons.
Genma, one of the Special Forces, hopped out of a nearby tree, landing neatly beside the serpentine general. "They're moving in from the East," he reported, and was gone before Orochimaru could speak, heading hurriedly back to rouse his own sleeping ranks.
Orochimaru found it convenient that the Special Forces had brought up the rear. He wondered if they had known - No. Now was not the time for mutinous thoughts, because the Kiri idiots were charging full-throttle down the hill, into a valley of pikes, spears and swords, he thought with a grim smile.
These idiots had no idea what they were doing. Still, it was disconcerting that they'd gather this close to Konoha without them knowing. Absently, he looked around for Itachi. Who was nowhere to be seen in the melee that suddenly surrounded him.
The world was an ocean of heaving, fighting, dying kitsune-jins, with the blood dropping and turning the pure snow crimson. He ducked low as a broad-sword swished and sliced through the air above him, rolling neatly to the side and, rising, bringing his own katana to meet the blade.
His eyes met another set, those of a predator, those of a fish and he hissed beneath his breath, "Hoshigaki..."
The fish-like creature grinned and lashed out again. "Orochimaru," he returned, rows upon rows of teeth in his mouth flashing like daggers as he grinned. "Ready to finish that fight we started a while back?"
Orochimaru glanced left and right, and with still no sign of Itachi, growled, "No."
Kisame, the fish-man, mock-frowned. "Aw, that's too bad. I was going to give this as the prize."
The shark made a gesture and he stared in that direction. "You," he hissed, then looked back at the shark. "You!"
He lunged without thinking, and steel met steel, both competitors stumbling back a bit from the force. "Let him go!" the snake general roared, eyes glinting dangerously in the sunlight.
Kisame smirked. "Make me," was all he said.
It provoked the snake though, who, without hesitation, bit his thumb hard enough to draw blood, yanked up his sleeve and drew the blood across the tattoo he had there. The earth began to shake and everything, everyone stopped, watching as, behind Konoha's general, the ground heaved itself upward.
Up, out of the bowels of the earth came Manda, toppling trees, snow falling from its massive head. Kisame merely shrugged. "Big snake you have there," he said. "But remember, bigger isn't always better!"
Orochimaru, now perched on the massive snake's head, sneered in contempt. Kisame lunged forward, giving a fearsome cry. Manda coiled itself round, bringing its tail about and batting Kisame away, but not before the broad-sword bit into its flesh.
The snake reared back and howled in pain, then dove forward, jaws wide-open, fangs exposed. Kisame leapt out of the way at the last second, letting the snake come up with a mouthful of snow. Manda hissed vengefully, and carved a wake in the snow, snapping at the shark, who was always one step ahead.
Kisame stopped, suddenly, holding two fingers up in the air. Manda paused, confused, then lunged, jaws wide open, ready to strike -
A shower of senbon cut through the air and made their way into the snake's open mouth, lodging in the back of its throat. Manda thrashed about in pain, trying to cry out, but gurgling and pouring blood instead.
Aware that the snake was in its death throes, Orochimaru took to the treetops, as fast as he could. He was struck down, however, by another volley of senbon and he toppled, crashing to the ground by Kisame's feet, full of needles.
Manda gave one last hiss and sprang forward, snapping off the treetops, then crashed to the ground, something clenched in its jaws.
Orochimaru spat blood and glared at Kisame. "No fair," he hissed, getting back to his feet.
Manda's body gave a shuddering sigh, its jaw falling open and out toppled its last victim, a young boy. Kisame swore. Orochimaru pulled a senbon out of his forearm and glared at Kisame. "Shall we finish this on our own?"
Kisame turned to look back at the snake, who was coiled and ready to spring, but he never replied, as they were both distracted by the sound of something exploding, the screams of men dying, and then, the sound of fire.
"Shit," Orochimaru spat, then took off in the direction of the blaze, leaving Kisame to stand there, mouth agape.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sasuke woke with the same sickness crawling in the pit of his stomach. The moment he opened his eyes, it came back, flooding his every sense.
He wasn't in Konoha, he was in Suna. The air smelt different, the heat was different, the bed he was lying in felt different, the person lying next to him was different. Naruto was gone, gone away; had been for days, and still, in the recesses of sleep, Sasuke could lead himself to believe that he was still living in his past.
He felt detached, as though he had left his heart in Konoha. And he had, for his lineage originated there, he'd been born there, lived there, buried family there, left family there. And even though life had not been good, he missed it from the bottom of his very being.
He missed the trees, the grasslands, the forests, everything until he could barely stand to remember more. He'd talked with one of the servant girls, another from Konoha. Her name was Hari, and she reminded him a bit of Naruto, with blonde hair and blue eyes and her carefree ways. But part of him knew she was lying, hiding behind a facade.
She'd said he'd get used to Suna, and shrugged off any other questions he had relating to Konoha or her past. Her eyes had been sad then, so incredibly sad. He hadn't spoken to her since.
He rolled over, onto his stomach, slowing his breathing, making it deeper, trying to drown the sickness. A hand was laid on his shoulder and he jumped, the sick feeling focring itself to the surface and he nearly lost it. He took a deep, shuddering breath and looked over at Asuma.
The brown kitsune-jin had a lit cigarette in his mouth. Sasuke wished he wouldn't smoke, because it choked his lungs like an allergic reaction, but it wasn't his place to speak.
"Is something wrong?" the kitsune-jin asked, pulling the smoke from his mouth and flicking the ashes away.
Sasuke shook his head. He'd woken sick every morning that week - or perhaps it was a new week now, and he didn't know -and it was starting to become routine. He figured it would dissipate, as he adjusted to life in Suna.
Asuma was strict, but good-natured, generally, but other than that, Sasuke didn't know much about the kitsune-jin. He liked it that way. He didn't want to know if he was a replacement for a dead wife, or a trophy or whatever else. He liked the air of secrecy Asuma had and the ktisune-jin allowed him the same. It was nice to go back, to retreat unto himself, to keep his thoughts locked away in his head, after he'd been so open, so free with Naruto.
He sighed and turned his head, so not to smother himself with the pillow, though he felt he might have liked to at that point. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the birds outside, in the early morning, of the farm, of the wind in the trees, in the sand beyond the oasis.
He listened to sheets rustle and heard Asuma's bare feet slap the barren clay floor. He smiled gently to himself, thinking that this house wasn't suited to small children, who might have fallen and would hurt themselves on the unpadded floor should they stumble.
The desert was harsh and its inhabitants learned how to survive, or be killed, quickly. There was the rustling of clothing, signifying that Asuma was dressing. Sasuke did not move, content to lie there for a moment.
At last, he moved, then froze immediately, a gasp of horror escaping his lips at the funny tingling that suddenly claimed his body. He shot up in bed, a hand to his abdomen, eyes wide.
Asuma glanced back at him. "What's wrong?" the kitsune-jin asked, lazily.
"N-nothing," he replied shakily, for he'd sat up too quickly and now the world was spinning at about one hundred revolutions per minute.
The sick crawled back, up his neck, into his mouth. The world was going dark at the edges of his vision, and it was slowly creeping over everything, until the world was as black as the blackest night. He passed out.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Itachi cried out in pain and fell to his knees, breathing harshly, a hand feebly clutching at his stomach, trying to stop the shooting pain that had taken residence there.
All around him, the scent of burning - burning blood, trees, bodies. He rolled to his side and threw up. Through his throbbing headache, he could hear the screaming, the crackling, the yelling, just at the edge of his consciousness.
Someone was at his side, trying to shake him 'awake', but wasn't he already? He didn't know.
He was pulled up out of the melting snow, slung over someone's shoulder, and suddenly, he was being jolted around and he guessed they were moving, jumping maybe. Escaping, getting away from that place. He fought the urge to be sick again.
He cracked open an eye and looked around, only to find his vision unfocussed, and the world blurred, as if it was moving too quickly for him to see. He snapped his eye snut again, feeling the sick feeling return with increasing force. There was smoke, rising so thick into the air, and it was choking them now; they had to get off the mountain. Was the fire still burning? He couldn't hear it any more and -
"Can you stand?" someone asked, and he thought he could, so he nodded and whoever it was set him down and left.
He plunked down in the snow, unable to stand. The world spun violently. And the person was back now - was it Orochimaru? No, they had brown hair, brown eyes - and no time to think, up he was again and the sky seemed close enough to touch and he reached out, only to be dumped back into the snow and faint.
Genma stared in disgust at the human in the snow. The idiot had started the fire and hadn't been able to save himself from it. Genma looked back, hoping to see some others, other Konoha soldiers emerging from the fire now that he'd managed to put it out; but there was nothing.
He sighed. He supposed there might be injured survivors, but he'd have to look for them later, because Orochimaru would kill him if he left the human there, unattended.
Speak of the devil, there was the snake himself. The general skidded to a stop, sending slush and snow up into Genma's face. The older man was out of breath and he was bloody, and he had several acupuncture needles stuck in his flesh.
Nonetheless, he was down on his knees, tending to Itachi, trying to get the human to wake up. "Little idiot," he hissed at the boy's prone form. "You knew. . .you knew, you shouldn't have used any chakra. . ."
Itachi coughed and revived, and the relief showed fiercely on Orochimaru's features. Genma sighed, and without a word, started back up the mountain to see if he could find any survivors.
The Special Forces officer tried to silence the grim thoughts that danced through his mind, making him feel like a dead-weight, weighed down by emotions as heavy as lead. He could only be glad that it wasn't Hayate there, or he knew he wouldn't have trusted himself to stay in check, to keep his tears locked down.
He chewed thoughtfully on his toothpick, looking down at the destruction in the bright morning light. The bodies, burnt now, were scattered all around. The blackened trees stood like markers on a grave site.
Silently, pensively, Genma set about burying the dead. And when he was done with their remains, he erected a small stone monument on the mound of earth where they rested. He carved a small set of words into the stone, and the date, to let it be known to all who passed here that kitsune-jins had died, stupidly, pointlessly, needlessly. And he lay the remains of their weapons on the small patch of earth, out of respect for fallen warriors. He lowered his head and prayed to the house god of the Shurengai clan, and to the god of death for the safe return of their souls to the place where souls were born.
And then, he left, leaving the remains to rot and rust, and the trees to grow again, and the wind and snow to erode the marker. Time went on.
He found Orochimaru and Itachi in the place he left them, only now with a revived Manda by their sides. Itachi was sitting on the massive snake, looking decidedly better than he had. Genma shook his head and Orochimaru sighed, indicating some feeling about the loss of life. Itachi said nothing, looking as solemn as ever.
They started back for Konoha, their feet freezing in the snow, even as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky. Orochimaru was pensive the entire way, and with one last thought to what had transpired, he knew - Kisame had survived.
He turned about, glaring at the mountain, half-expecting to see the shark standing at the top, following him, but there was nothing. He turned his back again, and walked away. It wasn't good to linger.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Asuma sat in his study, quill pen in hand, the tip dripping ink as he tried to put his thoughts in enough order to write them down.
Outside his door, he could hear the clamouring of the slave girls over his new-found pet, who'd fainted. They were speaking in hushed voices and his ears twitched every now and then, trying to pick up on what they were saying.
Sighing, he set his pen to parchment and began to scrawl a letter to the Yondaime. 'Dear Yondaime,' it began, for he never got any farther before one of the slave girls threw open the door to his study, exclaiming, "Master! Uchiha, he's -"
Asuma waited for it, waited to hear her to say what was wrong with his new pet, so he could write a letter of complaint to the Yondaime.
She looked at the floor, blushed lightly and said, in a hushed, disbelieving voice, "He's four months pregnant."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sakura was writing a letter home, when she heard the voices next door, rising, as though there were people yelling. She put down her pen, and sat, looking confused, trying very hard to over-hear what was going on.
She knew that Naruto had been called from his bed early by someone, a maid most likely, and now, whoever had come to see him was yelling at him, and he was yelling back. They were both male voices, she determined, so it was two men fighting.
Naruto and who? Who would dare fight with the prince of Konoha?
She listened harder. This time, she caught snippets of the argument, like, "My wife" and "leave her alone".
She narrowed her eyes in concentration. Was someone after her? Was someone going to try something on her, to spite her husband? She listened, but the door slammed shut and the argument had ended.
She chewed on her lip thoughtfully.
Had she continued to think, even for a few slight seconds more, she may have stumbled across the answer, but she did not, and instead, returned to her pen and ink and her thoughts about mundane things, such as letters to her parents.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Temari shuffled her feet nervously. Her sharp green eyes read, and re-read the letter that she clutched tightly in her hand, nearly crushing it. She could tear it up right now, forget that the words had ever been written and forget about this.
That was what she should have done. But she didn't, too horrified, too jumbled to comprehend what she should have done.
This was the first time in forever that her brother, Kankuro, who still lived in the West, in Suna, had written a letter to her. She had found it very odd that he did this, and when she read it, she found that he had not written merely to chatter with her.
He had bad news, and he was sorry to inform her that her little scheme's time was all used up. The truth was out, at least in the desert, and soon, it would be coming to Konoha, via a livewire of gossip and rumours.
Her hand shook and she let the paper fall to the floor, her hand becoming nerveless and she bit her lip to keep from crying out in fear, and frustration.
All that work, all that fighting to act as though she was truly sorry for them, and now, now it was all wasted, because it had been found out anyways. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, angry tears and yell and scream at the cruel world for crushing her this way.
The news that Uchiha Sasuke was pregnant, even before he left Konoha, was going to come back and destroy her.
Hastily, without a second thought, she disposed of the incriminating evidence that was littered about her work area, throwing them away, as quickly as she could, then setting the wastepaper basket on fire. No one would question this - she was always doing strange things in order for her medicine to work properly.
She watched the papers burn away into nothing, and she knew that soon, as soon as that letter came to Naruto's grasp, her world would burn away the same way.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Now then, this was a pretty fix, the Yondaime thought, chewing thoughtfully on his thumb.
The paper was from Suna, yes, the writing belonged to Asuma, and yet, the words seemed sloppy and so unfitting of a kitsune-jin noble. The letter stated in bold words that Asuma had found fault with Uchiha, that Uchiha was - god forbid the truth of this statement - pregnant, and that Asuma wanted to give him back, exchange him, refund him.
Yondaime said and rocked back in his chair, murmuring to the ceiling, "Well, this is a pretty mess, isn't it?"
The ceiling said nothing in reply. Yondaime grinned ridiculously, crumpling the note and throwing it into the wastepaper basket. He was going to pretend the note had never reached him, that he had never read it, and he would say that perhaps, by some odd twist of fate, it got lost in the mail, or thrown out, or disregarded as important.
No, he wasn't having Uchiha return here, not after Naruto was just settling down, just getting his life back on track. It was such a terrible scandal, too, that he just couldn't allow it. Asuma could suck it up and say lie, and explain to the kitsune-jins in his village that he got the human knocked up. Yondaime was sure the Western kitsune-jins did that enough to understand.
He snorted and stood up, his bitter thoughts still chasing each other around in his head. Asuma could deal with Uchiha now, Uchiha was no longer the concern of anyone in Konoha.
And Konoha was a better place for that fact.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Naruto stormed out onto the balcony, his bare feet digging into the ice and snow, and he hoped it would cool his temper.
His eyes were narrowed, his teeth were bared, and he was clenching and unclenching his fists in anger, rage, that was so unbecoming of a prince.
Still, when he was threatened, when he was accused of a crime he did not commit, he got his back up. He most certainly had not committed the crime that Inuzuka Kiba had accused him of. He had not slept with the kitsune-jin's wife; he had his own to sleep with, even if she was never very willing.
He had done nothing more to Hinata than a simple thank-you, the same way that all members of the royal thanked each other, with a gentle peck to the lips. He had assumed it was the same in all kitsune-jin families, to signify closeness and the tightness of the family circle, to represent unity in the family unit.
Now, he saw differently. The act had offended Hinata, he supposed, and she'd told her husband, who had taken it to another level and assumed that there was something Hinata had not told him, something more beyond what she explained as Naruto's actions.
And the damn Inuzuka had accused him of sleeping with his wife!
Naruto snarled and clenched his hands about the railing of the balcony, letting his claws break into the ice there.
Kyuubi, he was so mad! He hadn't been this angry in ages!
He hadn't been able to get it through that thick-skulled idiot's head that he had done nothing more to Hinata than what she had said, only that had been something that his entire family practised!
It never occurred to him that Kiba had noted that his wife had been acting more shy than she usually was, and had been jumpy and blushing at the slightest things, and more than eager to get up, and go to work for chance she might see the prince.
Kiba was not stupid, and he put two and two together to come up with the most logical conclusion he had.
Hinata was having an affair with the prince. And even though that was about as far from the truth as he could have been, he had held the theory to be true, and argued it, taking Naruto's own words and throwing them back at him, like poison darts.
They'd argued until their voices had become hoarse, and their throats raw and painful. And still, they'd argued more, beyond that point, and they had continued until Kiba, fed up with Naruto's lies, with one final threat to the prince's life should he ever touch Hinata, stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut.
Naruto had then stalked out onto the balcony and there he stood still, his feet numbing in the snow, his fingers going all tingly and raw because of the cold that had taken up residence in the air that encircled Konoha.
He gritted his teeth and growled, and unable to sate the anger like that, swore, loudly, and was glad that there were no garden workers in the winter, for they might have heard him and then rumours might have started.
The last thing he needed right now was rumours.
If Sakura heard about this, he could only imagine the verbal beating he would receive. He swore his new wife was emotionally, psychologically abusive, and he wished he had known sooner so that he could have backed out of the marriage, no matter how shameful that was.
He'd been back home for maybe two weeks at best, and now this was exploding in his face, and he was already sick of Sakura and her constant nagging, her 'I'm better than you' act, her stupid pink hair and her stupid eyes. He was tired of her, all around, because she was so tired of him, and she took that boredom out on him, with words and hurts he hadn't known to exist before.
He sighed and supposed the problem with women was that they were all together less physical than men, and found other ways to overpower them, and overthrow them, wheedling their way into heart, then breaking them, wearing those who loved them out, and down, degrading with words and actions.
He could hear someone laughing, probably as they walked by the palace gates, because he couldn't see them, but he could hear two hushed voices, on the streets, talking with one another.
There was a sheepish knock at the door, and then, Hinata peeped into the room, looking guilty and terribly sorry. "N-naruto-sama," she said, her voice stuttering more than usual.
She stepped in and shut the door. The two voices were still going on, gossiping about nothing.
Goddamnit, he'd give them something to talk about. He turned to face Hinata.
He'd give them something to talk about, he resolved, as he kissed her harshly.
Ravyn-09: I guess Itachi tripping and falling in the snow is rather amusing, ne?
KageKitsune16: Ah, Sasuke's not quite a rock bottom. And don't hate Sakura. She hates herself enough.
SilverLook: Wrong? It's wrong? Yay! All the more reason for me to do it. I'm very evil, what can I say?
Mister Pineapple: At least it didn't strike lower. And somehow, it seems incredibly odd that Naruto's a "spineless dick". Hm. . .I cannot write characters in character for beans. ::sigh::
To the person who made that face that I cannot make, as ffnet ish ebil: I suppose you like the story.
Yuen-chan: It's fall here. And bloody cold. My feet ache with cold. ::puts feet in hot chocolate:: As long as it's warm. . .
Neko Oni: I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. Most of the chapters in this fic average about 12 pages. I think. 12 pages x 12 chapters. . .is. . .124 pages? Bah. It's supposedly 130 pages or so long in total, so I dunno. Can't do math.
artemis347: I'm glad you're enjoying the new chapters!
And now, on with the fic!)
Chapter 10: Silence in the Sunshine
"Oh, Hinata," Naruto whined to the maid. "I can't believe I let him go so easily!"
Hinata sighed and continued to set the plates on the table. This was the third morning since the prince's return, and so far, all he'd done was whine and complain and mope about letting Sasuke go.
It hurt her to see him like this, so she let the last plate clatter to the table and sat down in the chair nearest him and took his warm hand in her own, feeling hers trembling with nervousness. "Naruto-sama, you did the right thing," she said, her voice soft and gentle.
The blond prince said nothing, then threw himself into her arms, sobbing fitfully. "Oh, Hinata!" he wailed, loudly, and she blushed, startled and afraid someone might hear.
"I'm such a fool! I let him go, I let him go! I should have disagreed to the marriage, I should have said no - I loved him, I loved him - I still do!"
His ranting turned into indecipherable whimpers and sobs, and he rested his head against her chest, his tears wetting the fabric of her uniform. She turned an even deeper crimson. Hesitantly, then bolder, she placed a hand on his head, letting her fingers curl in the soft golden tresses. "Naruto-sama, Naruto-sama, please don't cry. Please, please," she trailed off, feeling tears prick at her own eyes from seeing her prince in such distress.
Naruto said nothing more, and they stayed like that for a long, long time, neither saying anything - Hinata too embarrassed and too caught up in the moment to do anything; Naruto too miserable.
At long last, the prince unfolded himself from the maid's embrace, and tenderly, leaned up and gingerly placed a shy kiss on her lips. He backed off, standing up and bowing. "Thank you, Hinata," he said, then took leave of the room.
Hinata placed a hand to her lips and sat back, completely stupefied by the prince's actions.
- - - - - - - -
The screamed pierced the air, and there was a roar, like footsteps, careening through the snowy woods. Itachi lay, wide-eyed, unable to move in case he was spotted.
It was too late to move anyways, because the Kiri forces came spilling over the crest of the mountain, brandishing their weapons, their teeth, and their claws. He ducked down in the snow, and hoped not to be trampled to death, as they came thundering by him, only to scream and lash out viciously when a pair of arms snatched him up out of the snow.
A hand clamped down over his mouth, and two fingers pinched his nose, cutting off his air. He squirmed and kicked, all to no avail. The world became very dark and fuzzy, fading back into the black night that it had just come from.
"Hello Uchiha Itachi," someone said, just before he blacked out.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Orochimaru was to his feet as soon as he heard the war cry. He'd been lingering ever since Itachi had left his arms, in between sleep and true consciousness. Now, however, he was truly and fully awake, his eyes snapping dangerously.
Where the hell was Itachi?! He looked at his soldiers, some still sleeping, some rousing themselves now that they'd heard the approaching thunder cloud. "Move!" he shouted at them, clutching at his own forgotten weapons.
Genma, one of the Special Forces, hopped out of a nearby tree, landing neatly beside the serpentine general. "They're moving in from the East," he reported, and was gone before Orochimaru could speak, heading hurriedly back to rouse his own sleeping ranks.
Orochimaru found it convenient that the Special Forces had brought up the rear. He wondered if they had known - No. Now was not the time for mutinous thoughts, because the Kiri idiots were charging full-throttle down the hill, into a valley of pikes, spears and swords, he thought with a grim smile.
These idiots had no idea what they were doing. Still, it was disconcerting that they'd gather this close to Konoha without them knowing. Absently, he looked around for Itachi. Who was nowhere to be seen in the melee that suddenly surrounded him.
The world was an ocean of heaving, fighting, dying kitsune-jins, with the blood dropping and turning the pure snow crimson. He ducked low as a broad-sword swished and sliced through the air above him, rolling neatly to the side and, rising, bringing his own katana to meet the blade.
His eyes met another set, those of a predator, those of a fish and he hissed beneath his breath, "Hoshigaki..."
The fish-like creature grinned and lashed out again. "Orochimaru," he returned, rows upon rows of teeth in his mouth flashing like daggers as he grinned. "Ready to finish that fight we started a while back?"
Orochimaru glanced left and right, and with still no sign of Itachi, growled, "No."
Kisame, the fish-man, mock-frowned. "Aw, that's too bad. I was going to give this as the prize."
The shark made a gesture and he stared in that direction. "You," he hissed, then looked back at the shark. "You!"
He lunged without thinking, and steel met steel, both competitors stumbling back a bit from the force. "Let him go!" the snake general roared, eyes glinting dangerously in the sunlight.
Kisame smirked. "Make me," was all he said.
It provoked the snake though, who, without hesitation, bit his thumb hard enough to draw blood, yanked up his sleeve and drew the blood across the tattoo he had there. The earth began to shake and everything, everyone stopped, watching as, behind Konoha's general, the ground heaved itself upward.
Up, out of the bowels of the earth came Manda, toppling trees, snow falling from its massive head. Kisame merely shrugged. "Big snake you have there," he said. "But remember, bigger isn't always better!"
Orochimaru, now perched on the massive snake's head, sneered in contempt. Kisame lunged forward, giving a fearsome cry. Manda coiled itself round, bringing its tail about and batting Kisame away, but not before the broad-sword bit into its flesh.
The snake reared back and howled in pain, then dove forward, jaws wide-open, fangs exposed. Kisame leapt out of the way at the last second, letting the snake come up with a mouthful of snow. Manda hissed vengefully, and carved a wake in the snow, snapping at the shark, who was always one step ahead.
Kisame stopped, suddenly, holding two fingers up in the air. Manda paused, confused, then lunged, jaws wide open, ready to strike -
A shower of senbon cut through the air and made their way into the snake's open mouth, lodging in the back of its throat. Manda thrashed about in pain, trying to cry out, but gurgling and pouring blood instead.
Aware that the snake was in its death throes, Orochimaru took to the treetops, as fast as he could. He was struck down, however, by another volley of senbon and he toppled, crashing to the ground by Kisame's feet, full of needles.
Manda gave one last hiss and sprang forward, snapping off the treetops, then crashed to the ground, something clenched in its jaws.
Orochimaru spat blood and glared at Kisame. "No fair," he hissed, getting back to his feet.
Manda's body gave a shuddering sigh, its jaw falling open and out toppled its last victim, a young boy. Kisame swore. Orochimaru pulled a senbon out of his forearm and glared at Kisame. "Shall we finish this on our own?"
Kisame turned to look back at the snake, who was coiled and ready to spring, but he never replied, as they were both distracted by the sound of something exploding, the screams of men dying, and then, the sound of fire.
"Shit," Orochimaru spat, then took off in the direction of the blaze, leaving Kisame to stand there, mouth agape.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sasuke woke with the same sickness crawling in the pit of his stomach. The moment he opened his eyes, it came back, flooding his every sense.
He wasn't in Konoha, he was in Suna. The air smelt different, the heat was different, the bed he was lying in felt different, the person lying next to him was different. Naruto was gone, gone away; had been for days, and still, in the recesses of sleep, Sasuke could lead himself to believe that he was still living in his past.
He felt detached, as though he had left his heart in Konoha. And he had, for his lineage originated there, he'd been born there, lived there, buried family there, left family there. And even though life had not been good, he missed it from the bottom of his very being.
He missed the trees, the grasslands, the forests, everything until he could barely stand to remember more. He'd talked with one of the servant girls, another from Konoha. Her name was Hari, and she reminded him a bit of Naruto, with blonde hair and blue eyes and her carefree ways. But part of him knew she was lying, hiding behind a facade.
She'd said he'd get used to Suna, and shrugged off any other questions he had relating to Konoha or her past. Her eyes had been sad then, so incredibly sad. He hadn't spoken to her since.
He rolled over, onto his stomach, slowing his breathing, making it deeper, trying to drown the sickness. A hand was laid on his shoulder and he jumped, the sick feeling focring itself to the surface and he nearly lost it. He took a deep, shuddering breath and looked over at Asuma.
The brown kitsune-jin had a lit cigarette in his mouth. Sasuke wished he wouldn't smoke, because it choked his lungs like an allergic reaction, but it wasn't his place to speak.
"Is something wrong?" the kitsune-jin asked, pulling the smoke from his mouth and flicking the ashes away.
Sasuke shook his head. He'd woken sick every morning that week - or perhaps it was a new week now, and he didn't know -and it was starting to become routine. He figured it would dissipate, as he adjusted to life in Suna.
Asuma was strict, but good-natured, generally, but other than that, Sasuke didn't know much about the kitsune-jin. He liked it that way. He didn't want to know if he was a replacement for a dead wife, or a trophy or whatever else. He liked the air of secrecy Asuma had and the ktisune-jin allowed him the same. It was nice to go back, to retreat unto himself, to keep his thoughts locked away in his head, after he'd been so open, so free with Naruto.
He sighed and turned his head, so not to smother himself with the pillow, though he felt he might have liked to at that point. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the birds outside, in the early morning, of the farm, of the wind in the trees, in the sand beyond the oasis.
He listened to sheets rustle and heard Asuma's bare feet slap the barren clay floor. He smiled gently to himself, thinking that this house wasn't suited to small children, who might have fallen and would hurt themselves on the unpadded floor should they stumble.
The desert was harsh and its inhabitants learned how to survive, or be killed, quickly. There was the rustling of clothing, signifying that Asuma was dressing. Sasuke did not move, content to lie there for a moment.
At last, he moved, then froze immediately, a gasp of horror escaping his lips at the funny tingling that suddenly claimed his body. He shot up in bed, a hand to his abdomen, eyes wide.
Asuma glanced back at him. "What's wrong?" the kitsune-jin asked, lazily.
"N-nothing," he replied shakily, for he'd sat up too quickly and now the world was spinning at about one hundred revolutions per minute.
The sick crawled back, up his neck, into his mouth. The world was going dark at the edges of his vision, and it was slowly creeping over everything, until the world was as black as the blackest night. He passed out.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Itachi cried out in pain and fell to his knees, breathing harshly, a hand feebly clutching at his stomach, trying to stop the shooting pain that had taken residence there.
All around him, the scent of burning - burning blood, trees, bodies. He rolled to his side and threw up. Through his throbbing headache, he could hear the screaming, the crackling, the yelling, just at the edge of his consciousness.
Someone was at his side, trying to shake him 'awake', but wasn't he already? He didn't know.
He was pulled up out of the melting snow, slung over someone's shoulder, and suddenly, he was being jolted around and he guessed they were moving, jumping maybe. Escaping, getting away from that place. He fought the urge to be sick again.
He cracked open an eye and looked around, only to find his vision unfocussed, and the world blurred, as if it was moving too quickly for him to see. He snapped his eye snut again, feeling the sick feeling return with increasing force. There was smoke, rising so thick into the air, and it was choking them now; they had to get off the mountain. Was the fire still burning? He couldn't hear it any more and -
"Can you stand?" someone asked, and he thought he could, so he nodded and whoever it was set him down and left.
He plunked down in the snow, unable to stand. The world spun violently. And the person was back now - was it Orochimaru? No, they had brown hair, brown eyes - and no time to think, up he was again and the sky seemed close enough to touch and he reached out, only to be dumped back into the snow and faint.
Genma stared in disgust at the human in the snow. The idiot had started the fire and hadn't been able to save himself from it. Genma looked back, hoping to see some others, other Konoha soldiers emerging from the fire now that he'd managed to put it out; but there was nothing.
He sighed. He supposed there might be injured survivors, but he'd have to look for them later, because Orochimaru would kill him if he left the human there, unattended.
Speak of the devil, there was the snake himself. The general skidded to a stop, sending slush and snow up into Genma's face. The older man was out of breath and he was bloody, and he had several acupuncture needles stuck in his flesh.
Nonetheless, he was down on his knees, tending to Itachi, trying to get the human to wake up. "Little idiot," he hissed at the boy's prone form. "You knew. . .you knew, you shouldn't have used any chakra. . ."
Itachi coughed and revived, and the relief showed fiercely on Orochimaru's features. Genma sighed, and without a word, started back up the mountain to see if he could find any survivors.
The Special Forces officer tried to silence the grim thoughts that danced through his mind, making him feel like a dead-weight, weighed down by emotions as heavy as lead. He could only be glad that it wasn't Hayate there, or he knew he wouldn't have trusted himself to stay in check, to keep his tears locked down.
He chewed thoughtfully on his toothpick, looking down at the destruction in the bright morning light. The bodies, burnt now, were scattered all around. The blackened trees stood like markers on a grave site.
Silently, pensively, Genma set about burying the dead. And when he was done with their remains, he erected a small stone monument on the mound of earth where they rested. He carved a small set of words into the stone, and the date, to let it be known to all who passed here that kitsune-jins had died, stupidly, pointlessly, needlessly. And he lay the remains of their weapons on the small patch of earth, out of respect for fallen warriors. He lowered his head and prayed to the house god of the Shurengai clan, and to the god of death for the safe return of their souls to the place where souls were born.
And then, he left, leaving the remains to rot and rust, and the trees to grow again, and the wind and snow to erode the marker. Time went on.
He found Orochimaru and Itachi in the place he left them, only now with a revived Manda by their sides. Itachi was sitting on the massive snake, looking decidedly better than he had. Genma shook his head and Orochimaru sighed, indicating some feeling about the loss of life. Itachi said nothing, looking as solemn as ever.
They started back for Konoha, their feet freezing in the snow, even as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky. Orochimaru was pensive the entire way, and with one last thought to what had transpired, he knew - Kisame had survived.
He turned about, glaring at the mountain, half-expecting to see the shark standing at the top, following him, but there was nothing. He turned his back again, and walked away. It wasn't good to linger.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Asuma sat in his study, quill pen in hand, the tip dripping ink as he tried to put his thoughts in enough order to write them down.
Outside his door, he could hear the clamouring of the slave girls over his new-found pet, who'd fainted. They were speaking in hushed voices and his ears twitched every now and then, trying to pick up on what they were saying.
Sighing, he set his pen to parchment and began to scrawl a letter to the Yondaime. 'Dear Yondaime,' it began, for he never got any farther before one of the slave girls threw open the door to his study, exclaiming, "Master! Uchiha, he's -"
Asuma waited for it, waited to hear her to say what was wrong with his new pet, so he could write a letter of complaint to the Yondaime.
She looked at the floor, blushed lightly and said, in a hushed, disbelieving voice, "He's four months pregnant."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sakura was writing a letter home, when she heard the voices next door, rising, as though there were people yelling. She put down her pen, and sat, looking confused, trying very hard to over-hear what was going on.
She knew that Naruto had been called from his bed early by someone, a maid most likely, and now, whoever had come to see him was yelling at him, and he was yelling back. They were both male voices, she determined, so it was two men fighting.
Naruto and who? Who would dare fight with the prince of Konoha?
She listened harder. This time, she caught snippets of the argument, like, "My wife" and "leave her alone".
She narrowed her eyes in concentration. Was someone after her? Was someone going to try something on her, to spite her husband? She listened, but the door slammed shut and the argument had ended.
She chewed on her lip thoughtfully.
Had she continued to think, even for a few slight seconds more, she may have stumbled across the answer, but she did not, and instead, returned to her pen and ink and her thoughts about mundane things, such as letters to her parents.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Temari shuffled her feet nervously. Her sharp green eyes read, and re-read the letter that she clutched tightly in her hand, nearly crushing it. She could tear it up right now, forget that the words had ever been written and forget about this.
That was what she should have done. But she didn't, too horrified, too jumbled to comprehend what she should have done.
This was the first time in forever that her brother, Kankuro, who still lived in the West, in Suna, had written a letter to her. She had found it very odd that he did this, and when she read it, she found that he had not written merely to chatter with her.
He had bad news, and he was sorry to inform her that her little scheme's time was all used up. The truth was out, at least in the desert, and soon, it would be coming to Konoha, via a livewire of gossip and rumours.
Her hand shook and she let the paper fall to the floor, her hand becoming nerveless and she bit her lip to keep from crying out in fear, and frustration.
All that work, all that fighting to act as though she was truly sorry for them, and now, now it was all wasted, because it had been found out anyways. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, angry tears and yell and scream at the cruel world for crushing her this way.
The news that Uchiha Sasuke was pregnant, even before he left Konoha, was going to come back and destroy her.
Hastily, without a second thought, she disposed of the incriminating evidence that was littered about her work area, throwing them away, as quickly as she could, then setting the wastepaper basket on fire. No one would question this - she was always doing strange things in order for her medicine to work properly.
She watched the papers burn away into nothing, and she knew that soon, as soon as that letter came to Naruto's grasp, her world would burn away the same way.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Now then, this was a pretty fix, the Yondaime thought, chewing thoughtfully on his thumb.
The paper was from Suna, yes, the writing belonged to Asuma, and yet, the words seemed sloppy and so unfitting of a kitsune-jin noble. The letter stated in bold words that Asuma had found fault with Uchiha, that Uchiha was - god forbid the truth of this statement - pregnant, and that Asuma wanted to give him back, exchange him, refund him.
Yondaime said and rocked back in his chair, murmuring to the ceiling, "Well, this is a pretty mess, isn't it?"
The ceiling said nothing in reply. Yondaime grinned ridiculously, crumpling the note and throwing it into the wastepaper basket. He was going to pretend the note had never reached him, that he had never read it, and he would say that perhaps, by some odd twist of fate, it got lost in the mail, or thrown out, or disregarded as important.
No, he wasn't having Uchiha return here, not after Naruto was just settling down, just getting his life back on track. It was such a terrible scandal, too, that he just couldn't allow it. Asuma could suck it up and say lie, and explain to the kitsune-jins in his village that he got the human knocked up. Yondaime was sure the Western kitsune-jins did that enough to understand.
He snorted and stood up, his bitter thoughts still chasing each other around in his head. Asuma could deal with Uchiha now, Uchiha was no longer the concern of anyone in Konoha.
And Konoha was a better place for that fact.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Naruto stormed out onto the balcony, his bare feet digging into the ice and snow, and he hoped it would cool his temper.
His eyes were narrowed, his teeth were bared, and he was clenching and unclenching his fists in anger, rage, that was so unbecoming of a prince.
Still, when he was threatened, when he was accused of a crime he did not commit, he got his back up. He most certainly had not committed the crime that Inuzuka Kiba had accused him of. He had not slept with the kitsune-jin's wife; he had his own to sleep with, even if she was never very willing.
He had done nothing more to Hinata than a simple thank-you, the same way that all members of the royal thanked each other, with a gentle peck to the lips. He had assumed it was the same in all kitsune-jin families, to signify closeness and the tightness of the family circle, to represent unity in the family unit.
Now, he saw differently. The act had offended Hinata, he supposed, and she'd told her husband, who had taken it to another level and assumed that there was something Hinata had not told him, something more beyond what she explained as Naruto's actions.
And the damn Inuzuka had accused him of sleeping with his wife!
Naruto snarled and clenched his hands about the railing of the balcony, letting his claws break into the ice there.
Kyuubi, he was so mad! He hadn't been this angry in ages!
He hadn't been able to get it through that thick-skulled idiot's head that he had done nothing more to Hinata than what she had said, only that had been something that his entire family practised!
It never occurred to him that Kiba had noted that his wife had been acting more shy than she usually was, and had been jumpy and blushing at the slightest things, and more than eager to get up, and go to work for chance she might see the prince.
Kiba was not stupid, and he put two and two together to come up with the most logical conclusion he had.
Hinata was having an affair with the prince. And even though that was about as far from the truth as he could have been, he had held the theory to be true, and argued it, taking Naruto's own words and throwing them back at him, like poison darts.
They'd argued until their voices had become hoarse, and their throats raw and painful. And still, they'd argued more, beyond that point, and they had continued until Kiba, fed up with Naruto's lies, with one final threat to the prince's life should he ever touch Hinata, stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut.
Naruto had then stalked out onto the balcony and there he stood still, his feet numbing in the snow, his fingers going all tingly and raw because of the cold that had taken up residence in the air that encircled Konoha.
He gritted his teeth and growled, and unable to sate the anger like that, swore, loudly, and was glad that there were no garden workers in the winter, for they might have heard him and then rumours might have started.
The last thing he needed right now was rumours.
If Sakura heard about this, he could only imagine the verbal beating he would receive. He swore his new wife was emotionally, psychologically abusive, and he wished he had known sooner so that he could have backed out of the marriage, no matter how shameful that was.
He'd been back home for maybe two weeks at best, and now this was exploding in his face, and he was already sick of Sakura and her constant nagging, her 'I'm better than you' act, her stupid pink hair and her stupid eyes. He was tired of her, all around, because she was so tired of him, and she took that boredom out on him, with words and hurts he hadn't known to exist before.
He sighed and supposed the problem with women was that they were all together less physical than men, and found other ways to overpower them, and overthrow them, wheedling their way into heart, then breaking them, wearing those who loved them out, and down, degrading with words and actions.
He could hear someone laughing, probably as they walked by the palace gates, because he couldn't see them, but he could hear two hushed voices, on the streets, talking with one another.
There was a sheepish knock at the door, and then, Hinata peeped into the room, looking guilty and terribly sorry. "N-naruto-sama," she said, her voice stuttering more than usual.
She stepped in and shut the door. The two voices were still going on, gossiping about nothing.
Goddamnit, he'd give them something to talk about. He turned to face Hinata.
He'd give them something to talk about, he resolved, as he kissed her harshly.