It's short, but if you're smart, you'll pick up on a lot of hidden meanings and symbolism. This took forever to write because I just didn't know how to say some of the stuff, but after I talked with a good friend of mine on the meaning of families and what it is to love, everything just sort of clicked. Thanks for your help. I know it'll probably be tedious, but just try to read it. It gets better and more "romantic" from here.

Chapter 5

The Throng

Their voyage had begun. And they both knew somewhere in their subconscious mentality that nothing would be easy anymore. Ahead lay the rumors, the criticism, the embarrassment . . . but even deeper within their subconscious selves, they knew that if they cleaved to one another, they would surely pull through to a new horizon that lay peering over the ever-distant border; however, this assurance was deep enough to remain a hidden artifact that only their selflessness and valor would uncover, assuming its time was at hand.

And that would probably be a while's wait, but worth it. And sadly enough, their burden was almost as physical as it was emotional and mental.

Yes, they struggled, but he more than she. Like a pack animal, he had thought of himself, yet was wise enough not to allow such a ridiculous outburst; it might make his face even redder than the sun had made it—although now, it was fading into quite a flattering tan that avoided the shadow his sunglasses had cast on that day . . .

But nonetheless, they pushed onward. She, remaining quite a bit behind him, kept her gaze concentrated on his feet so as to avoid whatever he might have to avoid. She dare not look up at him.

And he, struggling under the weight of his own mind, kept pressing on. Press on, he told himself. Keep walking. Don't look back. Nothing behind you can be changed, so look ahead. Soon I will be heading home, and then I'll be at home—

With her. Whatever am I going to do about her? If I could only pack her away in a cabinet or something like and old, unwanted gift, and then double gift her . . .

How did I get trapped in this lame situation, anyway? What kind of man am I to be treated like this?

The village ahead was always in sight, but now as it was only a short distance away, he felt as if they were finally getting there. The distance they had just walked wasn't all too great, but the endurance of time became unbearably lethargic as a result of the dread they experienced.

Iruka scolded himself. It'll only make it worse if I complain about it. I can't afford for this to be any worse.

But what will the Hokage think? Will he think me immoral? A traitor? A failure? What will it do for my position as a chuunin? My job? My social status?

But I was only doing what we've all been taught: to accept any reward if they feel so inclined to do it. And he had, when he was told it was a "great" reward, even if it was a bit unexpected.

"We're getting closer," he muttered in a happily played tone of voice. "It'll be nice to be headed home—" He stopped himself a bit short, remembering that her home was left behind. It was in the past. It couldn't be changed. She could never really go home. As if to apologize he slowed with a sigh, turned to face her with a somewhat mournful expression upon his face. She had stopped as he had, clutching her own small bag a few possessions within, her own face turned toward the dust at his feet. At such a sight of emotion and pity, he beat himself with all the silent, self-directed anger he could muster, reminding himself that it was probably high-time he stepped out of his own selfish circle and invited himself into the real world. Other people existed. Other people had problems. The least he could do was try to help someone out, rather than fester in his own self-centered universe and rot to a miserable nothingness.

With graphic remorse, he put these thoughts into the back of his head where he would never forget them.

I'm sorry, he meant to say. I'm sorry I've been a selfish fool. I'm sorry I didn't care.

These apologies on his countenance, he stepped forward, nearer to her. She looked up serenely, wondering of his actions. When he held out his trembling hand to her, she only stared at his eyes. His eyes . . . so sad, so lost.

Just like . . . me.

Here they were, both wondering why they were standing in the very breath of this town, heading toward a place they both hardly recognized as a home, whether they had or hadn't, for upon arrival, it would be an entirely different place than from what they ever would have recognized. They would bring a foreign spirit and situation to that home only to change whatever it had been before.

The ambience radiating from the ocean side streets was drowned out in the heavy hum of concentration, shaded out of existence, and then it was only them. She looked at him, and somewhere, a slight connection was made. She wouldn't be alone whenever with him anymore.

While she lay contemplating in his eyes, he simply used that outstretched hand, gently took her only pack from her, relieving her of at least some weight. In that same instant, the crowded streets returned to life, reminding them of their impending journey.

He took her pack upon himself, along with all the other things he held, atop his own weight. A smile twitched into his face as he turned and pressed on once more, into the bustling streets. She followed, her head and spirits held higher, yet remained behind, lost in the reality of what had just happened. Why would he do such a thing?

Inside, she smiled, laughed in relief of fear and embarrassment and uncertainty.

And together, they pressed on toward the village's edge, both a bit more eager for the opportunity to begin a new life for themselves. Onward they went into the hum of a crowded path, where it most certainly wouldn't take very long to become separated from the other.

This thought tempted Iruka, but he gently pushed it from his mind. I need to look past myself, get out of my own selfish mindset.

A few villagers were as burdened physically as Iruka was, some with boxes or packs thrown over their backs, some with small children in their arms or bolstered atop their shoulders. This scene set Iruka back into his mind, searching for a connection. What held these people together? What is it that makes these people happy with what they have? Is their situation better than that of mine, or are these children they carry loved and wanted and cared for?

What a closely-bound village. Everyone here doesn't have a lot, but what they do have is their families. They support each other and love each other. So regardless of what I may or may not want, I need to work things out for her.

Isn't that what it should all be about? People just caring for one another, so someone will always be there to care for you, even if it isn't yourself? If you're always looking out for someone else, you don't need to worry for yourself. What a grand idea for a Utopian society. Why don't I just rule the world?

It didn't really hit him that he was thinking too much until he found himself on the edge of the bustle, in the open area of the portside streets, suddenly separated from one of his possessions: Katana. Where had she gone to? Was she left there in the crowd or did she purposefully run away? At this, without any other thoughts, he dropped his and Katana's belongings, prepared to dive back into the crowd to retrieve her.

Where was Iruka-san? He was just there—

Apparently the man she had been following was not Iruka, and she came to the quick and brutal conclusion that she really was lost, and it wasn't very likely that she could be found easily. Should she stay there and wait for him to return? Or would he just leave her like she knew he so easily could and probably longed to?

She turned—people. People busily pushing past and running into her. People eyeing her with odd intent on their faces, and some with wrong intent. Some, even though she didn't want to see it, with an eerie feeling that, emitted, made her feel more sick than lost. People were everywhere, but they were all cold. She couldn't take to them any more easily than they would her.

Again she shifted to the side. In an attempt to avoid an oncoming man, she was shoved aside by other passers-by. A rude comment, a gesture, and improper physical contact were provided, and she wanted out.

I can't get out. Do I even want to? I could just disappear. No one would ever know where I went. I am only a stupid, unwanted girl, anyway.

Sternly, she put forward an aggressive expression and fell away into the crowd. A strange sensation overcame her—what was it, freedom?—and with that, she pressed back, leaving behind her everything she was, everything she had. Her identity, her past, and whatever else it was she had or knew were now drowned out in this bustling crowd. No one knew her anymore. No one could find her. She was free. Nothing was holding her back from moving ahead to a new life—

When, as if by a miracle, she was relieved of this temptation, she found herself suddenly in front of her savior, the man she had known as Iruka-san. He was concerned, not angry, and with a protective sense, he sternly took her by the hand and pulled her from the throng. He took a sort of pride and led her behind him, holding her as closely as he could.