Yes
Summary: One Shot: A simple 'Yes' can answer so many unasked questions. Beneath the stars three children learn more from their sensei then they ever thought they would.
Genre: General/Angst
Rating: K+
Author's Notes: Just another plot bunny I had to get out before I could continue working on 'Black Day.' :shrugs: You try writing the same story in six different POVs, it's harder then you think because it has to be the exact same dialogue and exact same situations with six different thoughts and reasoning's behind it and it's just really annoying and hard to do. So as a result I wrote this story when taking a break from 'Black Day.' Don't worry, the next chapter for 'Black Day' should be posted sometime Sunday, Mar. 19.06…I hope.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Don't sue.
Please R&R…Thanks!
Takes place around a month after Team 7 is assigned to Kakashi.
Oh, and the characters are probably OOC but meh, w/e…I don't care.
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It's not often that I find myself lying on my back on the damp grass in some remote part of Konoha. It's also not often that I find myself staring at the stars. It's even less often that I find myself at night in the company of three pre-teens. And yet somehow I find myself in all three of those less-than-often situations at the same time.
The power of a single, angry twelve year old girl is amazing. Really, quite amazing. And I don't mean power as in strength; I mean power as in pure manipulation.
I wonder how long Sakura expects us to stay out here. This is really quite pointless. I know that bonding with your teammates is important but staring at the stars? Really, how exactly is that bonding?
The wind carries the all-familiar sent of the graveyard towards us. I smell it before the other three. A few minutes later Naruto is complaining while Sasuke retorts with some sarcastic comment and Sakura gets pissed. I guess this is the joys of being a Jounin-sensei, this is what I get to look forward too for the next year, or two, or three.
A couple minutes later the commotion settles down and the three children return to their star-gazing. Do any of them find this even remotely interesting? I mean, come on, it's stars!
"Kakashi-sensei?" Sakura's voice breaks the silence.
"Yes," I reply
"Is…is there anyone you know…um…buried in the graveyard?"
I blink a couple times, I let the silence stretch out, I think. How much do they need to know about me? How much should they know?
"Yes," I reply.
Naruto sits up, staring at me. Sakura pushes herself up on her elbows. Sasuke stays where he is, lying on the damp grass, but he does turn is head to face me. They stare at me, attention completely on me, stars forgotten. The unasked question hangs in the air, waiting to be answered. Should I answer it? Do they need to know? Do any of them already know?
"Aren't all your friends Shinobi?" Naruto asks suddenly, his interested now. It's not often I open up my soul to these three children; these three innocent children.
"Yes," I reply.
"Then if they died wouldn't their names be on the Memorial Stone?" Sakura asks. So this is what her goal was when she wanted us to come out here. This wasn't for bonding this was to get information out of me.
This was to learn of my past.
"Yes," I reply.
"But…that doesn't make sense. Didn't you just say that people you know are buried in the graveyard?" Naruto presses on. His face is probably squished into his 'thinking' face but I'm really too lazy to sit-up and see for myself.
"Yes," I reply.
"But…but…"
Sasuke interrupts Naruto, "Just because they're Shinobi doesn't mean they died as heroes or in battle. Maybe they died of an illness, or old age, or disgraced."
"Disgraced?" Naruto asks, like he's never heard of the word.
"Yes," I reply.
Silence, after a few minutes Sakura finally collects her courage and asks the next question, "How many?"
I don't reply. More silence.
"Five?" Naruto asks.
Silence.
"Six?" Naruto tries.
Silence.
"Ten?" Sasuke ventures.
Silence.
"Three?" Naruto tries, again.
Silence.
"Fifty-two?" Naruto tries, yet again. I realize he's just pulling random numbers out of his ass.
"One?" Sakura attempts.
"Yes," I reply.
Silence.
"Who?" Naruto questions, more forcefully then I've ever heard him before.
Silence.
"Who!" Naruto practically yells. Now he's just being nosey, now he just wants to know for the sake of knowing.
"It's your father isn't it?" Sakura asks.
Silence.
I blink, collect my thoughts, "Yes," I reply.
"My parents told me," she continues. I push myself up so I'm resting on my elbows.
She's staring in the direction of the graveyard. You can just barely see it from here but the smell is still strong. Naruto looks confused, not surprising. Sasuke looks slightly shocked.
"But wasn't your father the 'White Fang' of Konoha?" Sasuke asks in a mere whisper. He seems almost afraid to delve this deep into my past. Or is it just bringing back his own painful memories? I can't be sure; I've only known these children for barely a month.
"Yes," I reply.
"But he was a genius ninja at the same level as the Legendary Sannin wasn't he?" Sasuke continues, at an even lower whisper.
"The what?" Naruto asks, clearly confused.
"Yes," I reply.
"The what?" Naruto asks, again.
"The Legendary Sannin are the three famous students of the Third Hokage," Sakura explains, as if it's the most common knowledge in all of Konoha. Which it actually is.
"And he died disgraced?" Sasuke continues his voice dropping to an even lower level.
"Yes," I reply.
"How?" Sasuke asks, his voice dropping even more, which I didn't think was possible.
Silence.
"He chose the life of his comrades over the success of a vital mission to Konoha. It caused Konoha to suffer 'great losses' as my parents told me. But they never went into detail. Is that right Kakashi-sensei?" Sakura mumbles, almost ashamed that she is the one revealing this.
"Yes," I reply. A little more coldness: a little more pain creeping unwillingly into my voice.
"That doesn't explain…" Naruto starts to say.
"He committed seppuku didn't he?" Sakura interrupts.
"Yes," I reply. More coldness in my voice then they needed to hear, more emotions then they should be exposed to. I suppress a shudder but fail to suppress the memory.
The four of us fall into silence. I lie back down, folding my hands behind my head, and stare at the stars once again. Sakura follows suit and Naruto soon after. An hour passes, maybe more, and we're still lying here, still staring, the grass still damp.
"Kakashi-sensei?" Sakura begins. I brace myself for more questions, more memories to come flying into my mind.
"Yes," I reply.
"How old were you when you first killed someone?" There's more courage in her voice, more strength.
Silence. The guessing game begins once again.
"Fifteen?" Naruto asks.
Silence.
"Thirteen?" Sasuke tries.
Silence.
"Ten?" Sakura ventures.
Silence.
"Seven?" Naruto attempts.
Silence.
"Sixteen?" Sakura asks.
Silence.
"Six?" Sasuke tries.
"Yes," I reply.
"What? No way!" Naruto exclaims, "That's impossible! That's SO young!"
"It was a time of war," Sasuke explains.
"And you are considered a Genius, aren't you Kakashi?" Sakura adds.
"Yes," I reply.
Silence. Time stretches on. The stars start to fade as the first rays of sun begin to peak over the mountain tops.
The graveyard still smells. Smells of death, mold, wet dirt, and…and failure. Father's failure, my failure, the failure of every Shinobi buried there. Tainted blood stains that graveyard's ground; tainted blood buried six feet under.
And I wonder: will these three children lay six feet under me? Will these three children die before I do? Will I fail them like I failed so many others?
The sun climbs higher in the sky, the day is about to begin and we have yet to sleep.
"Will there be any training today?" Sakura asks.
Silence.
"Will there be NO training today?" Sakura asks, changing her question; finally understanding this little game we've all unwillingly started playing.
"Yes," I reply.
The three of them get up, walk away quietly. Their innocence will be shattered soon enough, for one it already has been. They leave me be, leave me to myself and my thoughts.
But I didn't actually tell them anything; I reason with myself. I only ever replied with a 'Yes.' I never told them a word about my past, not one thing.
I close my eyes, and the memory of my father's suicide flashes before my eyes.
I shudder.
A simple 'Yes' doesn't hurt every now and then.
And the power of a single, manipulative twelve year old girl is amazing.