(( And here we have the first of hopefully not many more filler chapters. This installment exists solely to provide some backstory for Namu, and, believe it or not, Akamaru, and basically to let all the negative emotions fester for a while before the plot gets back on track. There are still some flashbacks I need to get through before that can happen, though.
Anyways, I apologize for the wait. I started writing immediately after posting chapter six, but after I had five or six pages, writer's block struck again, along with yet another story idea. More on that later. The point is, I put off writing for two or three weeks to sit around the house, watching anime and eating cookie dough, and I feel like I rushed the ending a little but tough for you because I'm not changing it. The end. ))
CHAPTER 7: COMFORT
It was with great remorse that Hanabi finally considered herself awake, at what she hoped to be a time late into the morning. After spending a large number of minutes simply lying curled up under the nice, heavy hotel bedsheets, the idea had eventually crossed her mind to get up, and she did so unwillingly. Eyes still half-closed, she reluctantly slid the blankets from her, and sat groggily on the futon until her senses had cleared somewhat. How ironic, that a ninja whose techniques relied solely on vision could barely see a foot in front of her in the morning. Even more so that the whole clan shared such a trait. Only when the clock on the wall was completely visible, did she groan and finally slide out of bed. The hands read nine fifty-one. Too early.
Her breath caught as she stood, and after a bewildered moment she realized she had fallen asleep with her chest bound. Breathing constrictedly, she fumbled with the tight knot she had made in the bandages underneath her shirt and wondered why it had to be so ridiculously hard to disguise one's gender. Such precautions probably hadn't even been necessary, when she thought about it. Nobody had even noticed when she walked out through the front door of the Hyuuga, in plain sight. It seemed that being so overlookable paid off. Nevertheless, she managed to pry the knot undone and the long linen strip fell in a loose pile at her feet. She immediately breathed a deep sigh of relief.
She wasn't surprised in the least when she saw that the futon beside hers was empty; if given the choice, Hanabi would sleep until at least noon every day, and by then the entire country would be awake. So, giving little thought to the fact that the covers hadn't been made and Sakura's duffel remained untouched under the window, she went to her own travel bag. It was easy to carry, she would grant it that, as she unclipped the top flap. But if she hadn't folded everything and taken the time to arrange it to her liking, she wouldn't have been able to fit half the stuff she had packed. It was a cute bag, but not very useful if you weren't at least a little organized.
Chilly in her tank top, she pulled out a dark long-sleeved shirt, and another small top that she knew if she wore on its own, her father would kill her. She supposed it did look more like a sports bra with sleeves than an actual shirt, but that was precisely why she was wearing another top underneath it. Though if her father really was in town, she knew he'd have a lot more to comment on than what she was wearing. Even so, there was no need to go walking around in wrinkled, slightly damp clothes from the day before.
And at that though, Hanabi pulled out quite possibly the most un-presentable pair of pants she owned. Baggy, too long, and littered with zippers with no pockets and the odd uneven stitching pattern, they were a crowning example of what not to wear if you wanted to make a respectable first impression. She held them up to her two shirts and found that the olive colour matched the black and white well, and thus her decision was made as she rummaged around for a second more to find suitable undergarments and socks.
Clothes in a neat pile she held in her arms, she scanned the spacious room for a bathroom area, and quickly spotted one along the same wall as the door. Though she was pretty sure nobody would be peeking in through the window, she didn't trust the fact that the door could easily be seen through and stepped into the small alcove to change in a mostly concealed area. As she passed by the mirror above the sink, she noticed the state of disarray her hair was in. But such was only expected, after she had slept with it kept up, and wet, no less. As a result, it had dried unevenly and at odd angles.
So after she had quickly changed into her clean clothes, she rolled up the sleeve of her shirt (as it too was a bit too large for her) and wet her fingers under the faucet, combing them through the tangled, dark mess on her head. It wasn't much of an enjoyable process, but the presistant case of bedhead eventually subsided after a moment of painful grooming. Hanabi took a gander at her reflection, and made a quick face in the mirror before exiting the bathroom. Just because she never acted like a rebellious teenager didn't mean she couldn't look like one.
Though, as she noticed the two strips of fabric hanging from the front of her pants and clipping to the waistband at the back again, such an ensemble wouldn't be so convenient should the need to defend herself arise. She highly doubted such concerns were necessary, however. With at least two of the "team" most likely still unconscious, there would be no voluntary fighting. All there was left to do was to explore and to wait for a nice, detailed explanation as to the current situation. She resolved to kill two birds with one stone and do both at once, as she pulled the door aside and walked out.
oooooooooooooooooooo
"I can't believe he got me to do this," Kiba muttered under his breath, kicking at a small stone in his path. Akamaru trotted alongside him jauntily, tail wagging. He yipped, looking up at his master and friend, before noticing one of the many insects flitting in and out of the trees on both sides of the forest road and jumping up to try and catch it. And the man felt a momentary pang, recalling similar memories.
He looked ahead, seeing nothing but the same leafy green sprinkled with patches of sunlight filtering through the tall branches. He had seen and walked through many forests in his life, living in the village hidden in leaves, but this one seemed different to him. The trees were tall, but much thinner than the mountainous things sprouting out of the ground near Konoha. There was a fresh scent to the place, not one of wood and pine like in the heavy and overbearing atmosphere enshrouding his home city, and there was almost something floral about the air. And while the leaves in the surrounding regions would be losing their colour and falling to the ground, everything in this place looked to be in full bloom. The woods felt new, young.
His thoughts had eventually carried him a distance down the path, and he could begin to see what had sent him traces of that sweet smell he'd detected earlier. A ways ahead, there was a sharp dip in the road, and what looked to be large boulders lay scattered about the shallow crater. Through them, there were glimpses of every flower and herb imaginable, their numerous hues illuminated by the morning sun. There were pastel pinks, whites, yellows and purples, and bright violets, fuishas, oranges, reds and indigos. And for every different colour, there was a different scent; some spicy, some fragrant, and some just downright horrid.
All these different sensations came at him like an explosion, and he had to pause to try and sort through all the smells being forced at him. They eventually all condensed into one big, flowery mass, and his nose couldn't take it anymore. And yet, sneezing repeatedly, he continued to move forwards towards the small field; he definitely wasn't looking forward to digging through all that just to find one stinkin' herb, but if he went back to the village empty-handed and without an excuse, he was baked.
Akamaru rushed towards the flowers, excited at the sheer number of new scents. And Kiba supposed that if he had truly been in touch with his canine abilities, he would have been too. Alas, there were only so many similarities between dogs and humans. And unfortunately, liking flora wasn't one of them. Nevertheless, he followed the bounding pup towards his doom, cupping a hand over his poor nose. The mission: get in there fast, find a few of the dumb flowers, get the hell out.
However, it was almost pre-determined that it would be no such quick feat as he stepped through two of the rocks to get to the field, to discover that someone familiar sat crouched picking herbs on the other side. It took a moment for him to recognize the girl, but as she looked up at the sound of halting footsteps, the realization became mutual. A maple leaf fell from above and landed briefly on her checkered bandana, before sliding off as she stood, startled. There was a surprised silence.
"You!" they both exclaimed simultaneously. Another quick pause in dialogue was interrupted by a chain of sneezes from Kiba as he had unintentionally uncovered his sensitive nostrils, and then another from Namu.
"Those are contageous, you know," she interjected, casting him a dubious look as she sniffled quietly and placed her hands on her hips.
Alarmed, the man cast a look behind him. "What are?" Another sneeze.
"Those," she pointed out, rolling her eyes. "You know, 'a-choo'?"
Recovering his composure quickly, Kiba replied incredulously, "You could have just said 'sneezes'."
Namu raised her eyebrow. "I would have, if I had been sure you would have actually understood me."
"What makes you say that?"
Akamaru barked from beneath numerous bright blossoms, resuming his exploration not long afterwards. Kiba gave him a thoroughly confused look. "Wait, what? What do you mean, 'sleaze'?"
Namu's brow furrowed. "Are you still reacting to that morpheine?"
Finally catching on, Kiba accosted, "Ohhhhh, I get it. You think I'm still trippin' from when you drugged me earlier."
A shrug. "Well, yeah, since you're still talking to your dog and all." She paused for a moment. "Or is that normal in Konoha?"
"Kind of. Well, no, not really," Kiba tried to explain. "Communicating with dogs is something only those with Inuzuka blood can do, and I just happen to have myself quite a bit."
"Oh, I see," Namu conceded, nodding. She began to grin, and said, "You know, that's pretty cool." Glancing at the traces of bandage visible under Kiba's hoodie, she added, "It's a good thing I patched you up, or you wouldn't have any of that fancy blood left at all."
Considering what Akamaru had added to the conversation not too long ago, he asked, "What did happen earlier, anyways?"
"I'm not surprised you don't remember," came a muttered reply, but then the speaker elaborated further. "It went something like this: you showed up all sliced up at four-thirty in the morning, and I got called over because everyone else was asleep, the lucky jerks. Anyways, I had to give you stitches, and lots, which would have really hurt had I not given you some morpheine to dull the pain out of the very kindness of my heart. A little too much though, I think, because you got all weird and started hitting on me, really badly, might I add, like on the level of "hey baby, what's your sign". So, you ended up asking my name, and I eventually just caved and told you to get you to shut up, and--"
"What was it again?" Kiba asked, a blank look on his face.
Namu blinked, sporting an equally vacant expression. "Pardon?"
"Your name."
"Oh. Namu."
"Kiba," he answered in return, and let her continue.
The young lady cleared her throat. "Anywho, then you started talking to your dog there, and I got really weirded out and started thinking stuff like 'hey, is this guy batshit insane, or what?'. And you kept moving around and trying to cop a feel and just making things harder for me in general, so I eventually had to judo chop you and finish up while you were unconscious. Moved you to a room, yadda yadda yadda... And that's pretty much it."
After she was done, Kiba couldn't help but grimace. "Seriously?" he asked.
Namu bobbed her head yes. "Yep. But by the end, I think you were just delirious from blood loss. I'd hate to see you drunk, though," she added with a smirk.
Come to think of it, Kiba had heard particularly degrading stories about himself under the influence. But suddenly struck with a completely unrelated thought, he couldn't help but voice it.
"For a clinic, that place is pretty damn big."
The woman opposite him snorted softly. "I'd have to agree with you there. Between you and me, the only reason it's a clinic and not a hospital is because we have such out-dated equipment. And we mostly stick to using herbs and old medicine recipies, anyways." She motioned to the field around her. "That's why I'm here now, actually."
Kiba nodded in response, and then suddenly remembered his reason for being out of bed so early. "Oh, yeah!" he exclaimed, sneezing again afterwards. The sound was echoed from in front of him. "I'm looking for this herb. I think it was called... Ah..." He spent a moment trying to recall the plant he'd been told to find, and yet could only think of a colour, for some unintelligable reason. "... Yellow, I think."
Namu giggled quietly. "I'm pretty sure you mean 'yarrow'," she corrected, kneeling to retrieve some of the herbs she had dropped earlier. A small, white dog trotted by her hand, however, holding in his mouth a few small clusters of pale pink flowers by their thin stems.
At this, she looked up, mildly startled. "The doggie knows what's up," she said.
Kiba looked equally surprised. "How'd you know what it looked like, Akamaru?"
A muffled bark was the reply, and he seemed to dismiss the matter at that. "What did he say?" Namu asked.
"Hn, said something about recognizing the smell from the clinic. Not sure how he could pick it out with all these flowers, though. I know I couldn't, even though I should be able to."
"You have a nose like a dog, too? Must get pretty confusing after a while."
"Nah, not really. I'm just not used to this many different scents at once. There must be thousands of different kinds of plants here. How did you find this place, anyways?"
"Not found, so much as created. My dad and I came here from the Water Country a while ago, and we both helped plant this forest. Everything was rocky and barren at first, because the village is so close to a mountain, but everybody from town pitched in. And now we have quite the charming little forest, if I do say so myself."
"So you grew this place? Whoa. But what about your mom?"
There was a silence, and Kiba thought for a moment that he had asked too much. He was relieved, however, when the answer came shortly.
"She's still back home. Me and dad left because of a small war that had broken out, and she insisted on staying behind and fighting for the cause. We got a letter a while ago, and everything's a-okay. Not sure when she's coming over here, though." A small sigh. "But enough about me. Where did Akamaru get his name, anyways?" Namu asked, noting the pale colour of the pup's fur.
Kiba squirmed for a moment, but before he realized it, he had already begun talking. "He got his name from his dad, because he looks so much like him. The old Akamaru would turn red if you gave him a soldier pill, but I'm not so sure about this guy. His father got really big after a few years, but this Akamaru isn't supposed to grow much more. He's probably just not suited to fight."
"What happened to the old Akamaru?" Namu asked, beginning to sound remorseful before she had even heard the answer.
Kiba didn't flinch before continuing, scratching his friend absent-mindedly behind the ear. "Died about a year ago on a mission. I wasn't paying attention, and he got hit with a poisonous dart of some kind. Barely made it until we got home again." Noting the sorrowful look he was recieving, he added, "Don't worry about it."
After a moment of awkward silence, he was surprised to find the corners of his mouth turning up a slight bit. "It's weird," he contemplated aloud. "I feel a little better about it, now that it's out in the open. I have't told anybody, until now."
"Funny how that works," Namu mused, beginning to smile to herself. She stood again, handing Kiba some of the yarrow she had collected as he got to his feet as well.
"You coming back too?" he asked, accepting the herbs.
A quick shake of the head answered his question. "No, I'm going to stay here a little longer."
"Alright. Thanks." He gave a short wave, stepping back on to the path again, Akamaru bouncing from paw to paw at his heels.
oooooooooooooooooooo
Sakura stared absently out the window opened beside her, wisps of the thin curtains brushing against her shoulder. She paid no heed to the thin, smooth material, instead pretending to focus on something beyond the tiny criss-crossed wires separating her and the outside world. The muscles in her forearms, which were wrapped around the legs bunched up against her chest, felt terribly sore and taught. And while the day was warm, the breeze filtering through the screen felt colder than it should have.
Laying any unintentional metaphors aside, she supposed what she was wearing had something to do with the goosebumps erupting on her skin. Her chilly arms were exposed for the world to see, with no clothing on her upper half save for her spaghetti-strap undershirt. Her other shirt had long since been ruined. So for the meantime, she would have to rely on the sun for warmth.
Even so, the sun couldn't handle everyone depending on it forever, could it?
Don't go comparing yourself to the sun, she scolded herself, letting her forehead drop to her knees. The sun always shines, even when it's covered. It always comes back out after the rain, regardless of any storm clouds still in the sky. It's always been there and always will be, and everyone looks up at it. You can depend on the sun.
Despite many obvious differences, Sakura found herself thinking of a certain someone having passed through her mind numerous times in the hour or so she had been awake. A moment of pondering passed, however, and she quickly corrected herself.
No. Sasuke doesn't want to be seen like that. He doesn't do well for the attention, and would probably be happier without it.
The same couldn't be said for the person slouched exhaustedly in his chair, feet propped on the edge of her bed, eyes closed and mouth wide open in slumber. She couldn't remember a time when Naruto had stationed himself there, and assumed as a result that he must have been awake when she had collapsed and accordingly moved to where he was sometime afterwards. To do that, he would have to have been conscious and well, for which she was thankful.
People really don't give him enough credit, she mused, shifting her position so her back was against the cold wooden headboard. And it was true; despite all his childhood efforts to be recognized, only after achieving jounin rank had she begun to hear his name mentioned proudly on the streets of Konoha. But she had noticed him training every day with the same reckless determination he put into his missions, for as long as she could remember.
She supposed there would always be those who did well without effort, and those who had to work for their entire lives to succeed. There were many such people she had known since before her teen years, but most of which she was still unfamiliar with. So which category was she under? Since childhood, she had been commended for her uncanny intelligence and photographic memory, both traits she seemed to have carried from birth. But she knew from recent events, despite the praise she sometimes recieved, that there was much she could improve on. Motivation. Efficiency. Willingness to follow orders, no matter what they entailed.
Dependability, Sakura realized. She had lead herself to believe, until earlier that morning, that she was one you could trust under any circumstances to do her part on a mission. But now it was all too apparent how affected she was by emotional crises, and that wasn't something she would be able to change. She didn't have the manpower to build walls around her heart, like Sasuke had, and only Naruto could save a situation by getting personally involved in it. And that only made her plight all the more frustrating. Even after all those years spent trying, she would still be the weakest on her team, though it had disassembled long ago.
On the other hand, there wasn't much she could do to change things. It was easy to train your body and make it tougher, but achieving mental strength wasn't something that could be accomplished just by working hard at it every day. And as dissatisfying as it was, she accepted this truth with open arms, leaving things at that and letting her head fall gently against the wall behind her. Resting was the best thing she could do, in her condition.
Though she supposed if there had been any serious reprecussions, she would have been feeling them. She had never experienced anything like that odd, trance-like dizziness she had felt before blacking out, but the factors at the time and the heaviness in her limbs at the moment only lead to one possibility. Having studied in the medical practice for a number of years under the best of Konoha, there were almost no sypmtoms she couldn't recognize, including her own, and she had been warned of the life-threatening consequences of excessive chakra use many times before. She expected to be severely scolded for taking such a risk. And while she firmly believed that what she had done was completely necessary, knowing that she was very lucky to still be alive sent chills down her spine.
Chakra is formed by concentrating both physical and mental energy into one place, and letting the two merge. It is normally excreted in raw form, to be molded appropriately for the technique it is to be used for once it has left the body. The same applies to healing techniques; the basic principal is to send it into someone else's body, and let it repair the damaged cells on its own. On occasions where the injuries are too large or grave for this to work, however, the chakra drags out the very physical or mental essence of a person (cells or neural functions, correspondingly), dependant of his or her willingness to allow this to happen. In small amounts, such a change in procedure proves beneficial, and strengthens the technique with minor side effects.
In a nutshell, this is the basis of the theory of what happens when one uses more chakra than they have. When a person completely devoid of energy tries to produce it, if they strain enough, they will start using their own cells and bodily fluids, most frequently blood, as substitutes. In most cases, instant death occurrs when the amount of substituted material excedes what a human can survive without. But in those who rely more on mental power to form chakra and instead use their brain's functions as makeshift chakra, the worst things that have ever occurred are mental breakdown and severe cases of catatonia. The side effects depend solely on one's ability to maintain a sense of self and control over their thoughts, and vary accordingly, but although nobody has ever died under such circumstances, those affected rarely recover and spend the rest of their lives not as humans, but as objects incapable of expressing thought or emotion.
Sakura had felt and seen the blood passing out of her body. Not only did this signify that if she had continued for a second longer, she wouldn't be alive to be contemplating it, but also that she didn't rely on her brain as much as she thought. Although never as physically fit as any of the other genin of her time, she had always considered herself to be one of the smartest of the bunch, a quality she had supposedly carried with her all this time; it was disappointing, in the least, to discover all at once just how useless she really was when it came to the things she had always been known for.
Sighing deeply, she realized she had forgotten that she was supposed to be trying to sleep and finally slid down under the sheets again. She pulled them up to the bridge of her nose and turned on to her side, bunching her bare arms up against her chest. At first, the feeling of the material against her cold skin was pleasantly warm, but after a number of minutes of lying there with her eyes closed, she felt her skin getting hot and sticky and flipped on to her back.
That too eventually became uncomfortable, and in the course of any hour, the young woman changed positions numerous other times until finally giving up and sitting up straight again. Who was she kidding? She hadn't been able to fall back alseep earlier, so what had made her think she would be able to now? There was simply too much to think about and wonder about and worry about.
The job she had done had been messy. Barely any of her remaining strength had been used on healing, and as a result she couldn't help but become more and more anxious. What if she had been too late? What if her last-ditch effort hadn't been enough, and now one of her earliest acquaintences lay dead because of her hesitation and insecurity? The thought eventually became too much to bear, and she swung her feet around to the side of the bed and let herself down.
She stood for a moment, and briefly considered what she would do before taking a step on the cold floor. She had absolutely no chakra left, but Sasuke's potentially critical position was her fault; even if it meant dying, she would clean up after herself. And that was all well and good, until a voice at her back startled her to a dead stop.
"Don't even think about it," Naruto said, straightening in his seat and looking pointedly at Sakura. When she simply stood with her back turned, he continued, more quietly, "You scared the shit out of everyone, earlier."
He was met with a bitter laugh as the kunoichi took the few short steps back to her bed and sat down heavily on it, gaze turned downwards. She let out a small sigh, before saying in a tired voice, "I guess I need to apologize. But I can't just do nothing, when--"
"Hey, don't worry about it," came the insistant interruption."You've been working really hard already. Sasuke is still alive, and so am I, thanks to you. The best thing you can do for anyone right now is get plenty of rest, and let me and the others handle things for a while."
Emerald eyes lightened up periodically, but then faltered. So in the end, there was nothing more she could do.
"Thanks, Naruto," Sakura said with some suppressed emotion she couldn't quite place. She knew for sure it wasn't sincerity. "You're sweet." At least she didn't have to fake that part.
While normally Naruto's expression would have brightened a hundred shades at such a compliment to be followed by a joke about whatever had been said about him, he could see he hadn't cheered the woman up any more. So instead he managed a weak smile, and commented, "Your hair looks really cute like that."
Sakura couldn't help but smile back at the sheer randomness of what he had said, and felt herself beginning to feel a tiny bit better.
There was a knock on the door, and without waiting for an answer Kakashi strode in, followed by Kiba and Hanabi.
"What's up?" Naruto asked, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head.
"I've come to explain things," the jounin answered, closing the door and recieving four earnest, mildly surprised looks in return. "I suggest you make yourselves comfortable."
(( I really need to stop with the cliffhangers.
Anywho, more on that story idea. It's one I'm particularly proud of, and you can go check it out over at Just search for Oversoul under authors, and it should be the only story under my name. So far I have the prologue and three chapters, all of which are no longer than a page on Word Pad. Hope you enjoy. ))