Chapter XII

Reaching the Beast

The forehead protector in my back pocket and the medical supplies in the other arm, in front of the door waiting for it to open, I take a deep breath. The task I have been given turns out to be much more difficult than the first one. I have to get close to him and he has to let me touch him so that I can change the bandages on his right forearm and his stomach. I try hard to drive away the far too present pessimist, mischievously tormenting my restless thoughts.

I hope everything goes well, without any issue.

Sincerely.

After the familiar noise, I enter the darkness where the wild-tempered young teenager resides. I hear a brief movement and silence as I close behind me. Only then do I notice Naruto observing me through the bars between us. His clear eyes and blond mane contrast with the obscurity that encompasses this place with its unchanged odours of sulphur and others particularly nauseating. He isn't as close to what I have watched on the screens. I guess that—taking into account the almost inaudible noise earlier—he must have taken a step or more back; a habit to see someone else entering the area, surely. However, I am on my nerves; I remain particularly mistrustful.

As I approach, the boy maintains his positions—something unusual. His irises are staring at me so intensely that I can't translate his expression or his body language. Nevertheless, I detect a hint of nervousness. He seems to have an idea in mind. Could it be that he wants to run away since he has identified me as harmless? This cannot be ruled out; he fiercely tried to escape as soon as he woke up. Although I know the first metal door is already locked, I have no desire to force him in or wait for him to enter his cage on his own if—of course—he doesn't attack me in the meantime…

Seeing him motionless scrutinizing my every action with his impassive face, I briefly raise my finger to tell him to move away.

"Back off to the wall, Naruto."

With my verbal request, I take the opportunity to check if he manages to understand what I am saying. My student frowns; he almost sulks. But above all, his tail is wagging from right to left; I've seen enough cats in my life to notice that these movements are similar to that of a visibly disgruntled feline. However, if he's reacting like this, I am practically certain that he can assimilate the essence of my words. Distrust influenced by a rather wild temperament must explain his refusal to obey verbal orders or simply respond in any way to what is said to him, not to mention his silence, voluntary or not.

"Come on!" I insist, not taking my eyes off him, motionless. "Trust is played on both sides."

He is not happy at all, his body language speaks for itself. He fidgets a bit more, letting out a barely audible muffled growl while staring at my ebony iris. I keep eye contact and wait. The whole thing is particularly uncomfortable for the both of us, but I refuse to let go. The teenager will have to understand that he cannot have control over me, regardless of his intentions, good or bad.

A silence, an interminable time and a cold sweat.

To my relief, Naruto finally deigns to look away and turn on his heels to walk off from the jail bars. In front of the wall, he turns around to face me. For me, this is confirmation that he has not forgotten our language; one less unanswered question. Cautiously, I enter the prison while keeping my student in my line of sight. He arches, but does not move; he ruffles few hairs for the time of a breath. Nervousness takes hold of me as it must do with him; we distrust each other despite a desire to know, to give the other a chance.

"You seem to be doing much better, Naruto."

Closer up, I notice that his skin is much less pallid and sick than it was yesterday, although the tan of his skin is still too white. He's too thin, flesh on bone, but that won't change until he eats, I know that very well. I stop dwelling on his weight and return my attention to the primary reason for my visit.

"Naruto, I am here to treat your wounds," I explain, pointing to the healing items prominently before doing the same with my own right forearm so he gets more clearly what I'm saying. "I understand your mistrust, but you have to let me help you."

Mechanically, his sapphire eyes come to analyze his injured limb. I can hardly tell what he's thinking, other than the fact that he's obviously considering my proposal. He then sweeps his gaze back to me, then back to himself. After a few excruciatingly long seconds of hesitation, he reaches out his arm to me. I translate this movement as an acceptance. Nevertheless, I have to be careful not to make him change his mind and I was right. When I put one foot forward, he arches; the tremors gradually take hold of his body.

"It's going to be fine," I try to reassure him, raising a hand in front of me. "I'll be slow, okay?"

He moves his head briefly. I don't know if he shakes it or not, but I venture to continue my advance. One step at a time, I approach him while analyzing his behaviour. I do so until I'm more than an arm's length away and his forearm is within reach. I see that he freezes like a frightened beast while all his hairs have stood on end. Unconsciously, that he is able to fluff and ruffle his fur, including his hair, in this way sows a hint of curiosity in me.

"It is okay, Naruto. I will stop if you tell me."

Fortunately, the bed is also within reach—which allows me to put my stuff. With caution, I take his arm in my palm; I notice at the same time that his skin is burning and that this heat is unpleasant. At my touch, the teenager flinches, his breathing quickens. His eyes contemplate the void as the shaking get carried away. At this, his irises light up in the dark as does the tips of his hair which begin their fiery dance.

A panic attack.

I let go of him right away.

I forbid myself to hold him when he falls to his knees.

"Naruto!" I yell before getting to his level. "Calm down. Inhale slowly."

It takes a long moment, but his ragged breathing gradually stabilizes, like these flames wanting to show off their full glory. I feel terribly helpless. I would like to do more. However, I fear that another contact will make the situation worse. Then, a sweet pain comes to pinch my heart. What happened during this month for him to react this way by being slightly touched? By this very fact, a bubbling anger is added to my personal torments which do not deign to leave my mind.

I wait in this silence broken by his breath. It's only when I see the glint in his eyes vanishes that I slowly get up to sit on the bed, careful to leave room for him.

"Sit, Naruto," I say, patting the sheets to invite him to join me. "I'd like to try a second time. If it's too much for you, I'll leave, okay?"

At the sound of my voice, he raises his head. I have to treat his injuries; that's the primary reason for this visit. I hope that the fact that I haven't insisted further will cause him to place more trust in me. Luckily, after a short wait, Naruto gets up slowly and with a shy movement, he comes to sit down next to me; we're closer than we were—which doesn't help his shivers. Nevertheless, his ebony and blond fur has returned to normal. After a brief hesitation, he offers me his limb again while avoiding my dark eye. Once more, I take it gently. The sapphire-eyed boy flinches in response, but he manages to maintain some semblance of composure. His pulse is so fast that I can feel it pulsing in his veins as I barely touch his boiling skin which causes significant discomfort.

"You're doing well, Naruto," I whisper as I set to unroll the hemoglobin-stained bandage.

Once said bandage removed, I can see the condition of the gash at first glance quite deep. The cut on his forearm looks healthy to me; however, something is off. It takes time to heal … more than usual. With the power of the demon fox, this kind of wound does not take long to heal and it should already be in the process of healing. This worries me greatly. I must inform Godaime as soon as possible. It is then that I feel his anxious gaze on me. I respond with a smile as I busy myself preparing to use the ointment.

"Careful, it's going to sting a little."

The teenager jumps and lets out a small whine when I apply the cream. I'm relieved that he let me do what I need to. To be honest, I expected him to get agitated at this. Could it be that he finally gives me his trust? I cannot tell; it is too early to confirm this.

Once his arm is bandaged, I ask him with my hand to lift or remove his t-shirt so I can repeat with the second wound. I don't need to talk since he guesses what I want. Nervously, he pulls it up to his neck and unsurprisingly, the tremors intensify a bit. That's when I can see parts of the ebony mosaic that adorns his back and the strange diamond on his chest with flame-like shapes looming around it. I remember being briefly told about it. This makes the whole thing more enigmatic than it already is.

As I did with his arm, I carefully unroll the gauze that binds his lower abdomen—something that makes the boy wince. Unlike the other, although at first glance healthy, this wound is much more alarming and in a worse state. The stitches struggle to prevent bleeding and try to give in to the slightest movement that is a bit too sudden; I guess he strained his stitches when he awoke wildly here. I also see a scarlet drop and a transparent one beading. No need to specify that this injury will mark his skin with a scar. It must cause throbbing twinges; I must confess to being impressed by his pain tolerance. Luckily, despite this precariousness, the threads will hold if Naruto doesn't get carried away in another similar fury, things said.

I perform the same ritual while my student is letting me do it; apart from a few complaints, everything goes without any issues. It wasn't until the wound was bandaged and he pulled his top down that I felt the pressure suddenly leave me.

"There you go, we are done," I say warmly as I put away the medical supplies.

Normally, I would accompany my words with a hand on his shoulder or his thick hair as I was used to, but for obvious reasons, I forbid myself. His tremors have almost disappeared. Despite this, the teenager avoids eye contact with me. Not wanting to force things or stay longer, I get up to leave.

"I'll be back tomorrow, Naruto."

As I walk away, I hear him marching on my trail. At arm's length, he is behind me and his eyes are locked on me. He no longer seems bothered by my presence and also, I do not know how to interpret his actions. Then, Shikamaru's words come back to mind, those about his headband in my back pocket. Curiosity seizes me, but Godaime's warning makes me hesitate. Despite everything, I remain of the youngster's opinion.

Decided, I drop my brief riddance to the floor before turning around and taking a step forward—making the sapphire-eyed boy arch his back.

"Easy, Naruto."

Cautiously, I reach my hand in my pocket to then reveal the said headband to my student.

"Do you remember what it is?"

The effect is immediate.

This object overwhelms all the attention of the blond whose irises now wide open no longer derogate. In the bewildering stillness, I can only wait for a reaction from him. It speaks to him, evokes something, it is obvious; his behaviour differs drastically from the little I know. Is it possible that memories, however insignificant, appear in his head?

A suspended time, a silence and a wild assault.

I barely have time to see his expression being eaten away with the hostility that creates that glow in his eyes when Naruto—all his ruffled fur including his blond hair—jumps at me. Taken by surprise, I lose my balance and he pushes me to the ground before pressing his palm against my neck; not enough to block my breathing, but enough for his claws to sink into my skin. Stunned, I don't know what action to take with the boy astride on my body who pierces me with his gaze to the point of feeling violated to the deepest of intimacies. Mechanically, I try to grab his hands with mines. However, incapable to explain it, I am unable to speak and my own ebony iris cannot leave his blue irises. In this strange trance where time seems to have stood still, I see that his pupils are similar to those of Kyubi; pointed like those of a feline.

After an eternity, his breath—like mine—accelerates, then he frees my trachea. Quickly, Naruto grabs the forehead protector that slipped from my hands during the attack to leap away from me. I cough and get up slowly while the teenager—holding the said forehead protector tightly in his palm—gives me one last look before hiding … not under the bed, but under the sheets he uses to cover himself completely; only his black tail remains in the open air, resting on the ground, motionless.

Even I find it difficult to control my breath which only responds to my heart which seems to want to extricate itself from my rib cage in a bloody explosion. Confused, I can only leave. I don't know what provoked this assault, yet I'm relieved that he didn't actually attack me. However, since this visual exchange, I feel weird; a sensation that tingling swarms under my skin. Not only that, but a sudden fatigue of great intensity seizes my whole being.

But one thing is clear: he took the precious headband with him. Maybe he got angry thinking that I was responsible for its disappearance? It's possible. If that's the cause of his reaction, then that makes Shikamaru's theories plausible.

Naruto is not entirely amnesiac.