I do not own Naruto in any form or manner.
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Fifteenth Child
by Kaiyo No Hime
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What can I say of my father except that he loved my mother? He loved her with the passion of a thousand burning fires, and kept that ever loving hearth burning day after day, long after she was dead. For I never had the chance to know my mother, she had perished in some violent, tear jerking way not long after I was born, and had left my father to mourn her forever, treating me as her living shrine.
Nothing was too good for me. I could have drowned in fine silks and sweet pastries, and father would have only ever encouraged my doom; if I had so chosen. His grief had made him blind, and left everyone around to step in and raise me where he was not able.
I did not understand this until I was nearly ten years old. I was ahead of my class in all ways. And still my father could only smile at me with a far away look in his eye, patting me on the head as he left for his room. It was never me he was congratulating, but a memory of that far off person I owed my existence to.
I hated him for that.
I hated him thrice over.
Where nothing was good enough for me, I was never good enough for him. I tried everything. I fell out of trees in hope of him catching me, but never did it happen. Always someone else. Always a friend of the family, just dropping by for a visit.
And I would always end up spending the week at their house. Or they would arrange for me to visit another family friend.
By my eighth year I had more memories of the houses of friends than I did of my own home. My own cold, lonesome, empty home. Where father was always left to grieve in peace. Always given the assurance that he would be fine soon, I just had to give him enough time. Time to get to used to me.
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"Sayuri-chan," Iruka-sensei whispered, leaning over my shoulder as I looked over the answers to the homework he had assigned during class that afternoon, "Have you told your father about your early graduation? He would want to know that you are head of the class."
"My father does not even know my name," I hissed back in anger.
I know it is foolish to take out my frustration on poor, innocent Iruka-sensei. But the pounding in my chest would simply not let me be. It demanded that I respond, and Iruka-sensei had stumbled upon the trap, triggering my loathing into release.
"That isn't true, he just needs some time-" I cut him off before he could continue with the age old excuse that had always been the answer.
"More time! That's all he ever needs! What does he need more time for? So he can forget that he ever had me? I haven't been home for over a year, and yet he still needs more time! I'm sick of him needing more time!" I scream, throwing my papers against the wall, my chakra dancing angrily across my form, nearly visible as my fury swept the room; shattered glass fell to the ground.
"Sayuri! That's not true, he loves you!" Iruka-sensei glared, reaching out to slap me, his entire body thrown back as I unleashed another scream.
"If this is his love, then why doesn't he kill me and have it done with!"
"You don't even know him," a voice whispered behind me, my eyes rolling up into the back of my head as the silver haired man's hand came down on the back of my neck without warning.
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"Kakashi, thank you," Iruka smiled politely, taking the ten year old girl from his old friend's grip.
"What happened?" Kakashi asked, looking around the room with a curious glance. Glass and papers littered the floor, along with half a vase of daffodils.
"She reached the exploding point," Iruka explained, laying her gently on the couch after checking to be sure it was free of debris, "I knew it was coming. I just never knew it would be this volatile."
"Naruto," Kakashi sighed, already knowing the explanation.
"Yes," Iruka smiled softly, tucking the petite girl under a blanket as he beckoned Kakashi to follow him into the kitchen.
Kakashi had always enjoyed the late night discussions and cups of cool mint tea Iruka seemed to have in generous stock, and followed happily. He also thought it best to stick around, just in case Sayuri's pent up rage had not yet spent itself upon the room.
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"Naruto still won't accept her," Kakashi said randomly, adding another cube of sugar to his tea.
"It's not that," Iruka whispered, "He cares for her very deeply. He just doesn't know how to take care of her. He doted upon her, and nearly killed her because of it."
"Nearly killed?" Kakashi asked, his eyebrow raised questioningly.
He had heard many versions of the tale, and knew the complete story, but he was always interested in Iruka's take on the event. It certainly would be an interesting point of view.
"Everything she asked for she got. Tea sets, stuffed animals, and even kunai. She asked for her first set of shuriken when she was two," Iruka growled, stabbing at the tea in his cup angrily, "If I hadn't visited that day she might not have even survived."
"Oh," Kakashi muttered, stirring the cooling liquid solemnly.
It was a well known law that no child was allowed to be given real shuriken or kunai before their fourth birthday. They weren't even permitted to make toys resembling the objects for hands smaller than a three year olds.
"And all Naruto could say was that he was sorry that the shuriken had been made of inferior metal. That they weren't good enough for her."
"She hasn't been home since?" Kakashi asked, knowing the answer full well.
He also knew that Iruka merely needed the ranting time. Sayuri was not the only one who had been holding her emotions bottled up inside her all of this time. Her case was just simply more violently obvious.
"Of course not! It would utterly kill Naruto to not see her at all! We just make sure all of her visits are watched carefully, to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, like teach her Rasengan!" Iruka rasped, tears streaming down his face, face held in his hands as he began to sob.
He could barely stand the sight of his former student now. A pale, withdrawn man who had not smiled in years. His eyes had clouded over into muddy ponds, waiting only for the next glimpse of his daughter he might be lucky enough to sight.
The next time he could compare her to his lost beloved, the one who he would never, and could never see again. The one he longed for the most.
Kakashi smiled grimly, taking the school teacher into his arms and shushing him soothingly, rubbing his back. He knew what it was to suffer so, had experienced it so many times in his life, and it broke his heart to see Iruka suffer so.
Especially dear, sweet Iruka who had not a cruel word to say about anyone or anything.
"Does Naruto know?" Kakashi asked solemnly, treading forward onto the thin ice of the conversation.
"Yes. No one's been able to lure him out of his house for the past year, not even to see Sayuri-chan."
"Ah. He won't be allowed at the graduation, you know. It goes against the treaty. He won't be allowed that close," Kakashi whispered, glad to be hiding over half his face for more than the first time in his life.
"I think he'll die that day. She's the only thing keeping him alive now," Iruka sobbed, clutching at Kakashi's vest as he cried himself to sleep.
Kakashi smiled silently at the scene as he brought the chuunin to bed, tucking him in gently. The man muttered something in his sleep, just a decibel below Kakashi's hearing ability, and turned over.
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"What did he mean by my father not being allowed to come to graduation?" I demanded as Kakashi entered the kitchen once more, sipping on my own mug of mint tea.
"Doesn't take you very long to wake up, now does it?" Kakashi chirped, trying to put another cube of sugar into my cup.
I caught it, and dropped it in his own cup. I detest sweet things.
"You have such lovely red hair, you know. A fiery, radiant color. It will drive the boys mad in a few years, I guarantee!" Kakashi chuckled, still stirring his tea.
"Don't get off subject! Why won't my father be allowed? What treaty?" I demanded again, my eyes blazing from blue to crimson.
Kakashi sighed, and looked me in the eye, "Haven't you ever wondered why you father is so sad so often? Why he'll do anything for you, no matter how stupid it is? Even let you die, if you wish it?"
I paused for a second, surprised by the jounin's question.
"Because mother died when I was very young, and he misses her very much," I replied, it was an obvious answer. One I had known my whole life, one I assumed everyone knew.
"Your mother never died, Sayuri," Kakashi replied, my eyes going wide as he held up his hand to pause my voice, "While it is true that your mother nearly died giving birth to you, your mother is still very much alive."
"But why haven't I seen her? Does she hate me that much, then?" I asked, tears streaming down my face.
Is this why father was always so sad? Is this why he acted like he did? Because my mother had left him when I was born? Because she did not want me, and he refused to get rid of me? Was it because of me he suffered all this pain?
"Your mother loves you very much, actually. Enough so that weekly reports are sent to him on your health and progress. That little incident when you were two had a dreadful reaction," Kakashi looked over at the scars on the little girl's arms and smiled weakly, "But a child between your father, who was Hokage at the time, and your mother would cause a great deal of difficulty between our two nations."
"Why couldn't mother just move here, if it was that much trouble?" I demanded. Wasn't father good enough for her?
"It was more complicated than that. Your mother had to stay in his nation. Your mother had to have a family in his own nation, one that would be able to inherit after he was long dead, without such nasty complications as ties to Konoha. Ties that may seem to be those of a traitor to some."
"So my mother had a fling, broke my father's heart, and then handed me over when it was all done with like a sack of bad flour," I rasped, tears coming to my eyes.
My mother wouldn't even fight to keep me when all was said in done, suspicious acts be damned.
"No, your mother wanted you very much. Your father even resigned as Hokage when you were born, in hopes that Suna would accept you both. But they didn't. A treaty was written up that your father would never come within one hundred yards of your mother, on pains of his death."
"But why?" I sobbed. I had been denied a family all these years because of bitter stupid politics! "Why couldn't they just accept my father and I!"
My mug shattered against the wall, tea streaming down the pale yellow wallpaper Iruka-sensei had put up two summers before. I didn't even remember throwing it.
"Both Konoha and Suna wrote the agreement. They would be afraid that, should father leave and join your mother, the shift of power between the ninja nations would be too drastic. That we would all be destroyed," Kakashi whispered softly, "But your mother made sure a side clause was written into the treaty. That, should he never have another family, by the time of your graduation from the Academy, you are to go live with him."
I looked up, tears still draining down my face, but happily this time.
"You mean father and I get to live with mother in Suna now?"
"A ninja never forgets the information they have gathered!" Kakashi growled, "Didn't you hear Iruka and I speaking? Your father isn't allowed near the graduation! Your father is to never even set eyes upon your mother again!"
"Who is my mother, that such rules should be made?" I demanded, hesitating at the end.
She must have been a powerful person to warrant such fear in people.
"Your mother was Gaara of the Sand, Demon Kazekage. It was he who was able to carry you to term. Not even Naruto could manage that, with all of his demon chakra," Kakashi whispered, looking up at me sadly, "Did you know that, out of fifteen pregnancies between them, you were the only child to come to term?" My eyes widened in surprise as he continued, "One child, a boy, they named him Ichiban, came two months short of full term. He survived a week on a ventilator before dying. I didn't think either Naruto or Gaara would survive if their next child didn't. And the next two didn't. The one right before you barely made it four months before Naruto was attacked in the streets one night. A knife to the stomach did the trick there."
My eyes watered at the story. To think my parents had tried so hard to have me was saddening. I could have had fourteen siblings, fourteen! Even the largest nin family I knew didn't have more than six, and two of those children had been adopted when their parents had died.
"But why the treaty?" I asked sadly. Obviously the treaty wasn't in effect until after I was born.
"Because they were afraid of what you might become. A child of two demon vessels must obviously be powerful. Too powerful to control, and all the villages were afraid of what might happen if Naruto and Gaara were able to breed an entire army."
"But you said I was the only child out of fifteen pregnancies! How would they be able to breed an army if they could barely have one child?" I demanded, questioning the logic.
It was insane to think that anyone couldn't see the problem! If even I barely survived, and that was after fifteen attempts, my parents would be too old to have children after only two or three live children. And that was a lot less than the speculations of a full army.
"Because Naruto and Gaara combined could take down a village. If you just added one or two children to that, they could take on every nation that came after them. Not that Gaara or Naruto ever wanted that. They just wanted you."
I sobbed this time. I didn't try to hide my tears, I just opened up my mouth and started bawling. To think, all of these years of trying to imagine what my father really thought of me, and he had loved me. Had loved me before I was even born. Had tried so hard to have a little family with his mate, only to have it all taken away from him. Snatched away at the first sign of happiness, and smashed beneath politicians feet.
"I get to meet my mother next week?" I asked after I regained control of myself.
The person who I had longed to know for so long I would finally be able to see. To know.
"Yes, you will get to meet Gaara next week. And then you will return to Suna with him, forever. You will be able to come back and visit Konoha, I'm sure. But you will be a nin of Suna afterwards. A powerful nin like you will doubtless be raised to take over the title of Kazekage one day, and reign supreme." Kakashi whispered, looking up into my eyes as shock spread across my face.
I had been nothing more than a puppet in the end. All of my teacher's comments about me coming into great power suddenly rung through my head. They had never meant me becoming Hokage, but the ruler of a foreign nation, Sunagakure.
"I need to go to bed, it's late and final exams are tomorrow," I whispered as I excused myself from the table, heading toward my room.
I needed the escape of unconsciousness very desperately right now.
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I smiled sadly as they gave me my headband. The leaf of Konoha was engraved upon it. I knew Iruka-sensei had insisted on giving it to me merely to always remind me of where I was truly from. A thing that I could never forget, no matter what happened in Suna.
"Congratulations," an unfamiliar voice came from behind me after the graduation ritual, taking me by surprise.
I turned around to come face to chest with the Kazekage. I immediately saw where my pale skin and red hair came from. There was no denying being his child, not now.
He smiled, and presented me with a Suna headband.
"I've been waiting for this for eleven years, Sayuri," he smiled, taking me up in his arms and hugging me close, "My darling Sayuri-chan."
I smiled, finally finding the familial love I had been searching for for so long.
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Naruto found himself staring at the knife in his hands. Sayuri would be leaving for Suna very soon. He had been assured that she would be back eventually, for vacations and the such. But he knew it didn't matter. She wouldn't be back to see him. He doubted she could even really remember him anymore, she hadn't seen him in so long anyway.
He had made sure of that. He had refused to see her in the past year in an attempt to adapting her into living without him. Because he couldn't live with her. He was forbidden from coming near his beloved Gaara, and she would be living with him now.
It was good that she was living there now, with her mother. Gaara would be able to take care of her where he had never been able to.
His life blood splattered across the floor as he drifted off to an eternal sleep, watched only by an aged portrait of Gaara smiling, and holding up an infant Sayuri.
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AN: I do apologize for this bought of angst and tragedy. I don't even really remember writing it. I just sat down in front of my laptop one evening, seething with anger (not at my father, for any of those questioning) and delirious fever, and let the words scream from my fingertips onto the page.
So, please read and review. I'm not quite sure whether or not to write any further chapters yet, so a few reviews would help. I think the ending really does give a fair amount of closure to the situation, so I am more inclined to keep this a one shot.
And no, there will be no prequels, so don't even bother asking. I can't think back to before this, and I don't even want to try. I also promise to have the next chapter of Return of the Lost up within a week, though it may be short.
Oh, for those of you living in the Portland, Oregon area, Kumori Con is quickly approaching. You can find out more by visiting www dot kumoricon dot org. It's a great convention, and they moved it to an even larger convention area this year. It looks to be terrific, so, for anyone who can go, I highly advise you to, if at all possible.
