Chapter 9: Now She's Faded
Raz huddled around the fire, sneaking glances at his traveling companions. They ate their rice silently, looking at each other with significant looks, as if they were communicating telepathically.
No, that was probably what was happening, Raz realized. They both had the sharingan, and were probably reading each other's minds. Inside, Raz scoffed. Waste of power. It took enormous amounts of chakra to do that and everytime he used it, he always felt-wait. How was he able to remember this and not his life?
"Because, idiot-san, the sharingan is something that goes beyond mere memory."
Raz looked up to see both Artemis and Itachi staring at him. He shrunk under their gazes. Wait. It had been Artemis who had spoken, yet her eyes were not red. She had been talking to Itachi the whole time without her eyes turning red once, so how-
"Am I able to read your mind?" She said, laughing. "Because I have developed a way of progressing my power so it no longer just works through my eyes. I am able to use it from any object I wish. That is why I wooped your ass so easily the other day."
Raz's jaw dropped. "Th-that was you? You were the one who did that to me? Why?"
"Because, stupid-san, you attacked me. Jesus, how am I supposed to work with you if you don't have a clear understanding of my power over you?"
Raz stared at her. He started to think, over and over again, "LALALALALALALALA."
"Artemis-chan, stop it," Itachi said to her.
Artemis looked at him, "What?"
"He has a right to his privacy, and like he said, it is a waste of power. Leave him alone."
Artemis looked at him like he was from Mars. "Wait, you were just suggesting the other day that we kill him, now you're telling me to respect his privacy?"
Itachi sighed. "Artemis-chan, you still have a lot of growing up to do."
"Great environment for it, too," Raz said sarcastically.
Artemis gave him a shocked look. For a second, Raz panicked, shit, she was going to kick his ass for being so disrespectful. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. But she didn't.
Instead, she laughed. "No shit, Sherlock," she said before pulling out her guitar and strumming absently. "This thing needs tuning. Raz-san, could you get me my tuner? It's in my black messenger bag."
Raz stared at her. Why was she suddenly being so nice? This was weird. "Why, will it inject poison into my veins?"
Artemis laughed again. "No, not unless Itachi-kun decides to start singing. Then your ears may explode."
"HEY!" Itachi yelled. Raz laughed and got the tuner out. He handed it to her with a smile.
"Hey, don't think just because I stopped dressing you as Stupid-san means everything is chill between us. You're lucky I'm not left handed, or I may have killed you."
Raz nodded. "Alright, but don't get to upset when you fall in love with me and we switch places control-wise."
This time it was Itachi who laughed. "Raz-san, you have a lot to learn about Artemis-chan. The only people she loves are me, her mother, Tsunade-dono, My brother, her parents' friends, and her band."
Raz snickered. "Well then, I guess I'm in a worse position than I thought. I just hope you won't make me hang around with the same people."
At that comment, both Itachi and Arty started throwing things at him.
"WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN!" They both yelled.
"Scheissur!" Raz muttered when they stopped, rubbing his head, where two enormous bumps had formed.
Arty smirked. "You've got the crappy tent tonight."
"Fucky fucky fuck."
"Sweet dreams, stupid-san!" She called as she sent him to the ripped tent.
Cursing, Raz huddled up under his sleeping bag. Assholes. But as he slipped under his covers, he remembered the looks on Arty's face when she asked him to get her tuner, and the other when he said that thing about her friends. There had been a friendly, forgiving smile, and then, a look of great hurt. Raz felt sorry for her. She probably really missed her family and friends. He should not have teased her. She was just acting out her feelings ina rather violent way.
Raz realised something. She might be incredibly beautiful, talented, smart, and powerful, but Itachi was right, she had a lot of growing up to do. It seemed rather like she had missed something, something important. But what was it?
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Three Years Later:
Arty sat at the bar, scanning the room for signs of Raz or Itachi. There were none, she sighed. How much longer would it take? They had been gone for over an hour. She was expected to just sit here, not call attention to herself, and wait. If anyone came up to her, she was to blow them off.
"Hey, Beautiful, may I buy you a drink?"
Araven-haired man in ablack t-shirtandbondage pantsgrinned at her. Ugh, another one.
"No, you may not."
"Come on," the guy said sweetly, "Let me buy you a drink, and why don't you tell me your name?"
"No," she said stubbornly. She felt sorry for the guy, he seemed sweet, if a little persistant, or maybea little desperate?
"Ok, well then could I at least know your name?I promise then I'll go. At least then I'll be abe to warn my friends."
Artemis looked at him, "Ok, if I give you a name, will you promise to leave quietly?"
The guy nodded.
"My name is might have been, My name is no one, my name's forgotten. Now please go."
The guy sighed. "OK, but I'll want your real name if we meet again. Mine is Hoshina Kent, in case you give a shit." With that, he turned and walked away.
Artemis smiled. He was funny. Too bad he was just a civillian.
Since leaving, Itachi had taken her and Raz all the way to Tokyo. Here, it was so crowded, there was less a chance of anyone recognizing them, plus it was a place many of his friends lived.
Itachi had since created an entire mob out of his contacts, and become a prominent gang leader. It had been crucial if he wanted to find ways to crush the Akatsuki and Orochimaru. Indeed, Artemis was now a Mafia Princess, but a secret one. No one knew who she was, and no one could know.
Being as such, there were distinct ups and downs to this. The ups being the obvious; she was never tried for cash, protection, information, and access to wherever she wanted to go. But the downs were awful. She could not be alone, could not use the resources at her diposal to further herself as a musician, and could not contact her family. Their gang had ties to all the hidden villages, so that ninja would not come bothering them, but it would blow their cover if anyone found out. But that was not even the worst.
Sober Love had planned to come to Tokyo when they were eightteen to try and break into the industry and get themselves heard. It had been a sacred promise they had made to each other, and something they had been planning for since they started the band and were called 'Love-love.'
But now, in Tokyo, almost eightteen, sitting in a bar with a ton of resources and not being on stage with Matty and Meisha seemed like a horrible betrayal.
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Of course, there was something else going on, too. Raz still did not remember his pas whatsoever, even after three years. Instead, he had become of use to Arty in other ways. He was her only friend beside Itachi.
He seemed to understand her in ways that neither of them could figure out. How did he know what it was like not to have a perfectly normal family life? How did he know what it was like to have to be treated differently? How did he know how she felt every time she was told she could not go anywhere that night?
He knew, and it was amazing. What was more amazing was how they connected. It had only taken him a few days into their mission when Artemis warmed up to him. She hadn't even warmed up to her own father in a week as much as she came to like Raz in only three days. But she couldn't help it. Tsunade was right, he was just a shy kitten. Except when he fought, and you got to see his claws.
He had turned out to be a bit devoted to both her and Itachi, not very independent. He always needed someone to rely on, it seemed. Arty never understood it. He was very strong, smart, and not bad looking. Why was he so dependent on them.
But Artemis was happy for the attention, for she did not get as much of it as you would guess for a mafia princess. Itachi was always paranoid, so he did not let her let anyone but himself and Raz into her life. Sure, she could talk to people at parties and such, but she couldn't give them any personal information. Itachi introduced her to everyone as 'My daughter, Mika.' And that was it. Her name, which had made her feel so special as a little kid looking up at the night's sky from her windowseat; was gone. Haruno Artemis, musician, kunoichi, daughter, and student was gone. Now she was 'Uchiha Mika, Mafia Princess.'
Even when this was all over, when she returned to Konoha, and played with Sober Love once more; the happy girl she used to be would be gone. Even her name would change to Uchiha Artemis. It was all gone for her. Every remnant of her old life was gone. She should have known things were crumbling when her mother would not sing along to Madonna. That had been the first sign, but she still left her room that day.
A sudden chill went up her spine and she looked around the room again. There, standing in the crowd, was a dark man in a black and red robe. Arty's heart skipped a beat. They had found her.
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Raz flew to Arty's side and whispered in her ear, "Let's go, there's a car waiting in the back lot."
Discreetly, the left the bar and headed out to the waiting limo. Arty got in to see Itachi sitting there with a cautious look.
"Don't worry, they don't know you're here, I checked. But you need to stay at the penthouse for a couple days just to make sure."
Arty burst into tears. She hated staying in the pent house caged up like a rat. It made the pain of being here all the more worse. "I hate this."
Itachi looked at her. "I think I know how to make this a little more endurable."
"How?"
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An: Ok, this is the part where I get down on my hands and knees and beg you all for reviews. If I'm on your faves or alerts, I'd like a review. It would be a nice touch, and frankly, school is really getting hard now that it's second quarter, not to mention my parents restricting my net time due to my report card. Hah! So if I'm going keep posting this up, I think I should get a bit of encouragement, and not just from the same old people. Love ya, Wendy.