Chapter Eight: A New Leaf
AN: Characters' failures and motivations, along with the reasons behind them, won't be revealed that quickly—it'll be a gradual process.
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A berry fell down from the tree in a cascade of dry leaves. It was rotten to its core; the seed was useless (it was not a good seed) as it would never be able to sprout roots and grow into a tree and bear fruit—in summer. It fell close to Sasuke's feet; he paid it no mind and continued to look at Naruto trying his hardest to carry out a seemingly impossible task.
Naruto clapped his hands together and made the usual sign that had become a cliché for him. He created two Kage Bunshins. In less than a moment, another equally confused Naruto popped into Sasuke's field of vision and smiled from ear to ear—it was always the same spectacle; but Sasuke was patient.
He leant his head into his hands, and his eyes drooped under the burden of yesterday's journey. It was the wee hour of the morning, and night was just beginning to reveal a magnificent red colour on the horizon. The forest was still under the mantle of mist. It was a sombre sight, pristine. He pulled his head back and held his gaze, waiting for Naruto to show him something—anything. Sometimes, it was a great struggle to take this man seriously.
"Wait!" the original Naruto exclaimed and slapped his own forehead, "I've got to make another one," and then he proceeded to create another clone.
"Naturally," Sasuke said in a sleepy voice. He intended to view this talent-show in the evening, but Naruto had insisted. Sometimes, he wondered: were there any perks of being the Head Jōnin of a team? The whole matter was a children's faerie tale—more myth, less fact.
Finally, what felt like eons to Sasuke, Naruto held out his hands and faced his palms out; and his clones began making spinning movements over his palms. First, a Rasengan swirled into view, and then a new elemental chakra whirled around it. Both of them melded and conflated into a spinning, blade-like chakra formation.
Sasuke craned his neck and tried to look interested: Naruto had done this before, but he never could maintain it for long, let alone throw it in any direction at whim. His noisy clones jumped back, and Naruto took a cautious stance, hunching his shoulders and moving his arm back to throw the spinning chakra at the rocks in front.
Sasuke stood straight with a start, unfolding his arms; his eyes glinted with curiosity. Naruto threw his arm forward, and the chakra detached itself from his hand: it whirled forward and cut clean through the rocks in front. Sasuke's Sharingan flickered to life automatically and peered through the misty forest to look at the Rasen-Shuriken cleaving the mist and tall trees before disappearing into thin wisps some fifty feet to the North.
A subtle expression went across his face, and he brought his gaze back to Naruto. He was impressed. "Not bad," Sasuke said and slapped the side of his thighs to rid his trousers of dry leaves. "A bit late, don't you think?"
"You're never pleased!" Naruto said happily, wearing his trademark happy-go-lucky smile. "How do you like that? Impressed, huh?" He widened his eyes and kept that smile impeccably pasted on his face.
"Terribly," Sasuke returned and ceased his hearty smile. "That doesn't mean this wasn't long overdue. Stop slacking—that's all." He turned around and started walking out of the open field he had reserved for his team's training.
Naruto jogged behind him and then slowed down his pace. "I'm—never mind. You look grumpier than usual. What's eating ya?" he asked and scratched his head.
"Nothing that would concern you." Sasuke halted in his steps and returned Naruto's warm gaze with ferocious calm. "You need to drop Sakura. She may get released from my service soon. I don't want you weeping on my doorstep like last time."
Naruto's smile and face sagged more than ever, and his eyes swam with the usual concern: he looked miserable and desperate already. "Why—why are you doing this? She might get transferred to another village in the Fire Country. You know I won't be able to see her that way! How can you do this?" he pleaded, and his faced convulsed with the burden of longing and distance. His emotions were almost palpable for Sasuke to bear.
Sasuke closed his eyes, sighing. "How long do you want me to entertain your little romance?" he asked and met Naruto's lightest eyes with the heaviest intensity. "This isn't a game anymore. You're not a child and neither is she. She failed her medical trials last week. I got the results just last night. On what grounds should I keep her? That you—you can't get enough of her? You know this isn't a good enough for me."
Naruto bowed his head and clenched his teeth. "You . . . you know I love Sakura-Chan. You let her go and what's left for me? You don't understand. You never understand," he said and turned his face away, his voice affected by anger and bitterness.
Sasuke put his hands upon his face and breathed heavily behind his sweaty palms. "When will you grow up? When?" he asked, his voice heavy, and pulled his hands down. "You know this matter is big. Your family's reputation is at stake—your reputation is at stake. I don't need to remind you of this over and over again. Why don't you understand—why don't you listen? I don't want to let you off my team at the cost of Sakura. Nii-Sama's just looking for a reason to discharge you. Don't make this harder for me than it already is."
Naruto peered through the haze of resolve hovering over his eyes. His ears did not want to hear reason. "I care about you, Sasuke. You're a brother I never had. And—" he broke off and stopped the surge of emotion in his breast, "—no one can ever take your place, not even Sakura-Chan, but . . . but I know you've never thought 'bout me that way. Sakura . . . she—she sees me. You can't understand my feelings." Then he stared off into the distance.
Sasuke remained silent, looking at the man sagging at his knees. He did not know how to answer. Naruto was infatuated with Sakura and felt this strange sort of . . . pure love for him that he never understood. Naruto's confession always left him without words. He searched for them tirelessly, but when the right moment came to speak his mind, he lost them to uncertain thoughts and cutting silence.
Nothing changed Sasuke's expression. He simply turned away and said, "go home to your wife. Tell her that I want to talk to her about joining the team. I'll drop by in the evening. We'll talk some other time." Then he walked away and left Naruto behind in the clearing—in the midst of a huddle of trees to fumble for words and thoughts. He had gone through this so many times. Naruto's words and eyes broke Sasuke's resolve: he did not know how to get rid of Sakura without hurting Naruto. It had to be done—something had to be done!
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"I could do without the extra distractions," Sasuke said, standing straight before the leader of the Hidden Leaf Village.
Tsunade looked up from the scroll on her table. A large stack lay untouched next to her sake cup, a finely crafted white ceramic one. She rolled up the scroll with unhurried gentleness and clasped her hands together. "You don't seem to like her," she spoke in an accusatory tone that did not seem to affect Sasuke's ready-made expression. "I don't think this is just about the test."
Sasuke let out an audible 'humph' and turned his face away, not trying to hide the scornful smile that broke his expressionless face this time. "Is that what she told you?" he asked, letting his red burden her, body and mind. "I'm aware that she's your student. Perhaps your feelings are affecting your judgment."
"Don't be so direct, boy," Tsunade retorted and her features contorted in anger.
"You want diplomacy instead when only a moment ago you asked me to be candid?" he asked slowly, grasping this small moment of candour. "I'm not fond of the quaint customs of Leaf and the ready-made conveniences they offer, but I'm well aware of my own rights as a Head Jōnin. You forced her onto me when it was my choice to select any Medic I saw fit. Why?"
Tsunade breathed in sharply; her jaws went tense; and her eyes remained transfixed on the red in his. They pulled her gaze to them—enchanting and mesmerising. They were two spectres within the reality of reason with their endless allure. Uchihas—the myths of this world!
"What are you trying to say?" Tsunade finally asked and found herself straining to break completely free of the powerful eyes that seemed to swim in the room's darkness. "I made her stay with you because you had already appointed Naruto. A team that worked together as Chūnins would only strengthen itself as Jōnins. What other reason could I possibly have?"
"Is that all?" Sasuke asked, bringing out that flare of anger on her face; she could be read so easily. "Whatever the reason, I don't want her on my team anymore. She's affecting Naruto's judgement, and his performance is falling apart because of her . . . expensive paramour status. Didn't she tell you?" Sasuke feigned innocence and watched her with wicked sarcasm on his face.
"What is this?" Tsunade stood up slowly, livid. "You'd go this far?"
"I have no reason to ruin her common reputation. It's Naruto I'm worried about. Whatever happens to her is none of my concern. If this matter gets out, Naruto would be ruined. The burden of Namikaze has already sullied his reputation. When will you stop her—when he drowns in all of this? Would that make you happy? I doubt you don't know about her little trysts."
"Enough!" Tsunade shouted and slammed her hands down on the table. It cracked at the legs and started wobbling. She buried her face in her hands and stood still for a moment to get her wind. A few moments passed, and she finally moved her hands to look at him staring at her impassively. "This isn't about Naruto—it's about you, isn't it? You're worried about your own reputation. Sakura would never go this far. I know her."
"You can never know another. And I don't care what you think of me. Honour isn't made overnight, nor can it be bought. It's precious and irreplaceable. You may not understand this, but I do. Half of my family was murdered for this village's sake. Don't think I've forgotten it. I won't let Sakura smear her vulgar antics all over my honour. Either you put an end to this, or I will. This is the last time I've come to your office for this," he said in tone that he meant what he said and walked out, not waiting for Tsunade to speak out in Sakura's defence.
Tsunade slumped down into the chair. His accusations shook her. Her fingers trembled as she closed them around the sake cup. She brought it to her lips and took a few quick sips absentmindedly. She was lost for words and had so few thoughts to spare. She had brought up Sakura as if she was her own. She would never do something like this . . .
Sasuke closed the door behind him, and his eyes immediately caught sight of Sakura standing by the pillar a couple of feet away. For a few fleeting moments, he held his gaze and poured out the malice in his eyes. He did not say anything and left the corridor with stiff long steps. Sakura's eyes followed his every step till he disappeared behind the main door. Was the night always here to hide away her unwanted burdens? She closed her eyes, shutting out the world, and grief poured over her face . . .
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Naruto stood on his doorstep under the dark sky. It was raining, and the stone-trail that left the front-door was covered in wet. There was a stream by the side of his house: its stone-bed was scoured out by cold water that came from the mountains. These stones were once carved out by the finest Konoha's craftsmen for his father. His family used to live here in the short summers and fleeting springs. Now, their outlines had diminished beyond recognition, worn thin . . . like his father's honour.
He bowed his head and his face trembled. Suddenly, he fell forward and hit his head on the hard wooden door. "It's her fault. She did all this," the voice, clear and cunning, began ringing in his mind. "If she wasn't here, you could've been free—free to do whatever you wanted." Naruto clutched at the handle feebly, his slick fingers slipping on the door.
"Look how she abandoned you today. Didn't let you play with her. Get rid of her. Then you can have Sasuke. You love him, don't you? You love him so much! He's so dear to you. A family you never had—a brother you always wished for in the nights you wept. You forgot—I remember. Your mother and father have only made you miserable, haven't they?" the voice resonated as if in an empty room and bounced off the walls of his consciousness. "Kill her. Kill this bitch. She's just a whore who's using you. You know this. She's always loved Sasuke, never you. You were useless—you are useless, you dead-last." It laughed with wicked sincerity that hurt his heart, and the eyes glowed, serpentine in the darkness that spread and spread in his mind, rising from the bottom like a filthy sludge.
"Leave me a-alone!" Naruto burst out, his voice wobbling beyond his control. He trembled all over. A chill shot up his spine and froze him to the bones. It was that voice—he was going mad again. He clutched at his heart as though it would stop beating if he did not. It pained him. Even his breaths burdened him greatly. He was being suffocated to death.
Naruto parted his lips with an animalistic snarl, baring his teeth. His hands flew to his mouth. He tasted blood as new teeth moved inside his mouth: long canine teeth jutted out of his gums, and his eyes turned to slits.
"Get outta my head," he hissed, feeling detached from his human half. His backbone twisted underneath the skin, and he fell down onto his knees, cringing before a more powerful master—unwillingly.
"Run . . . run . . . run," the voice said in devious delight, tempting him and mocking him with the same intensity, "run . . . run . . . run . . . but you can't hide!" Then it burst out into a hideous laugh and suddenly went silent.
Naruto's vision focused on his hands caked in dirt. His head was bowed, and he was on all fours on the stone-path. Cold wind blew up his shirt from behind. The strange sensation left him again; he was at its mercy. He mustered up the courage and wiped his dripping face on his sleeve. The rain was not stopping—why would it not stop? Putting his fingers in the sliding door's handle, he pulled himself up and rapped on the door.
He did not hear anything before the door slid open and revealed Hinata. She looked shocked to see him home at night—tonight of all the nights. "Naruto-Kun," she said as if questioning him and held the door open as he stepped inside. He did not say anything and silently took off his sandals and marched off to their bedroom.
Hinata slid the door shut and locked it from inside. She traced his steps and found him sitting beside the lamp on the floor, with the same lamp paintings scattered about it. The room was dim and bits of light shone on used paint brushes and glass bottles filled with water. She had finished painting one pattern before Naruto's knock came upon the door. This felt like something completely different from their usual routine. She kept looking at him, and he returned her gaze with the same empty eyes . . . not saying anything.
Feeling that she should say something, Hinata breathed in and parted her lips to speak: "would you like some tea, N-Naruto-Kun?"
Naruto's eyes remained the same, but he moved his hand and tapped it lightly on the floor. She looked at him absentmindedly, moving her gaze to and fro like a pendulum between the spot he touched and him. When he did not say anything, she moved her feet and slowly sat down beside him. There was nothing but silence between them, broken and sawed by the sounds from thunder and wind that hissed like a thousand feverish snakes, their vibrating coils snarled up in a decadent frenzy of an old ritual.
Suddenly, Naruto moved his hand and wrapped his arm around Hinata's waist and buried his face in her neck. At first, he breathed heavily, nuzzling against her neck, but then he opened his mouth and kissed her. His lips were parched despite the rain outside whilst he gently kissed her shoulder and moved his hand to touch her breast.
He squeezed it gently and pulled her closer. Hinata was disgusted; her fingers trembled. His lips left a searing pain of betrayal on her spirit and it burnt: it hurt so much. To think that she was something he would entertain himself with when Sakura abandoned him. She was nothing but a toy in his arms, and she was through being his second plaything.
When Naruto slipped his hand between her legs, Hinata pushed him away. Startled, as if some sort of haze had cleared from his mind, he pulled back, wearing a hurt expression on his face. He was still quiet, lips clamped shut as though sealing many of his secrets. His fingers clenched on the mat, and he turned his head away when his lips quivered, his countenance warped by humiliation.
"Do I . . . " he said with an air of defeat, " . . . disgust you that much that you won't even let me come near you?"
"I'm just tired . . . " Hinata's voice trailed off, and she looked towards the paintings, pulling her Kimono up to her neck as though to hide her skin from a man that was not her husband. "I bled last time—when you—when w-we tried. It just hurts. Maybe, maybe there's something wrong with me. I'd go and see Shizune-San about this."
Both of them were silent. Naruto's head was hanging in defeat. He clenched and unclenched his fingers, feeling repulsed that she had rejected him—again. Sakura did not want him and his own wife did not need his touch. Maybe it was right—that thing festering inside him like a tumour. It was eating away at his soul, his resolve, his Self. He was becoming empty day by day. How long would it be before he would lose everything of himself before its evil? Tick-tock—tick-tock! He could hear its glee come over to this room!
No—no—no! He heard his own shouts shatter him from within, but how could you get out of your own devils? Poor little—sad little boy!
The thought frightened Naruto, but that insidious malice unfurled again—he let it leak and overcome him this time. It held him in its clutches and entranced him. With extreme sluggishness, Naruto got to his feet. He staggered, limping a little to the left like a drunken man, but quickly regained his balance. He moved his hand through his hair and looked down. His eyes had lost that emptiness; and, now, they were topped to the brim with loathing, his sunny blues fading out. His lips twitched oddly as he looked at Hinata with contempt. His eyes were beginning to terrify her.
"Sasuke wants to talk to you," he said with infinite calm, keeping the lid of resolve on his emotions that began to bubble and boil to the surface as if they existed in an aged cauldron.
Hinata's eyes darted all around the room, her gaze elusive. "What does he—"
"I don't know and I don't care. Who knows what he wants with the likes of you," he cut her off sharply and left the room without saying anything else.
Hinata scrambled to her feet and rushed behind him. "Naruto-Kun," she called out and stopped close to the main door. "Where are you going? I-It's late and—still raining. You should stay here. At least, until the storm l-lets up."
Naruto wore his sandals and threw open the door angrily. He stood there for a few moments in the wind, gritting his teeth. "Your purpose is to give me an heir for my family," he began after gulping in a solid breath full of storm's wind, "that's the only reason I married you. You and I both know that. The sooner you accept it, the better. Unless you want to shame your father that you can't even bear me children."
"N-Naruto-Kun," Hinata breathed out and stared at him in disbelief. No matter how aloof he got, he never talked to her in this manner—he had never hurt her with words. Sakura had ruined him, and she could not turn to her father for help as long as the dagger of conspiracy was hanging over her head. She was left swaying between the red daemon and the blue sea. Her lips trembled, and one sob shook her before she conquered the rest completely.
"I don't want you to refuse me my right next time," he spoke from the door, his gruff voice carrying itself over the noise from outside. "No one would accept a barren woman if I left you." He cast her a hateful smile and closed the door behind him.
The light burning in the room dimmed as wind rushed in. "A barren w-woman?" she asked the house that was her companion, her voice shaking her, and fell back and hit the wall behind her. She stood there for several long minutes before her feet moved with slow movements. They met the floor as if having a mind of their own. Soon, her eyes found the familiar in the same room and the same paintings and the same brushes. Everything was the same—even her . . .
Her make-believe pride finally crumbled to dust under Naruto's spiteful words. Their truth rang louder this night. Yes, her father had cast her away to save his name. Did he know about the conspiracy? Did he marry her off to save their families' names? She slumped down to the floor, and, slapping her hands against her cheeks, she cried hoarsely. She was trapped in a limbo with a man who did not love her, and there was no way out. She could not leave . . . where would she go? Who would claim her? Where would she find solace? She was useless—more useless than Naruto would ever be. He did not know how lucky he was—at least, he was wanted . . .
Hinata's sobs convulsed her whilst she tried desperately to regain control, breathing in and out in quick bursts to calm her breaths; but tears kept coming, shaming her that she was no better than a woman cast out from a clan to bear an heir for another. She put her head between her knees and let out all the grief behind the leftover shards of girl-ish dreams—innocence. She had nothing left—she was born to save the names of two clans . . .
"Hinata?" said a voice that came from beyond the room, followed by soft steps on the floor. The voice carried itself to her on wind rushing in and out of the house from underneath the doors and little spaces round the windows. This house was so noisy tonight!
Hinata flicked her head up and wiped her face clean on the long sleeve. The voice began to tear away at the cold that clung to her like a leech. Slowly, it scraped off the unwanted feeling from her body and filled her up with such warmth that her slow heart picked up the pace. She would recognize this voice anywhere!
"Sasuke . . . " she whispered without the barrier of honorific, throwing off the burden of Naruto's hurtful words from her body with stubborn haste, and looked towards his shadow that stretched long and wide on the wall in front. Within a moment, Sasuke came into view—a silhouette against the bright light in the corridor.
He turned his head and stepped into the room and stopped just a step short of her. "You're sitting here?" he asked, moving his head around to look at the room, stopping his gaze just for a moment on the unfinished paintings spread out on the matted parts of the floor. "Naruto's sleeping at the Academy tonight—I don't know why. But that's not why I'm here. He didn't tell you?"
Hinata kept staring at him and wrapped her arms around herself. "No," she said in a tiny voice, not averting his gaze.
"I want you to join my squad. I think another Byakugan user would be good. That'd take the burden off Neji, and I'd get another helping hand. I don't want to press you on this, but—"
"I accept!" Hinata said loudly and jumped to her feet to look at his face clouded by mild confusion. "I accept, Sasuke!"
Sasuke tilted his head a bit to one side, slightly taken aback by a direct use of his name, especially from Hinata, but he did not say anything after taking a good look at her face: she had been crying. "All right," he said and ran his eyes over the dry streaks that crossed her cheeks, "you can come by my office tomorrow morning. I'll train you to control your chakra. You told me it was your weakness."
"Yes!" she said through the haze on her mind, her countenance slowly taking on the look of a paramour. She wanted Naruto to suffer, her father to pay for his distance. It was always Hanabi, never her. Why should she anchor the name of their families alone? Defiantly, she threw away the burden wrought by honour, name, innocence: she would feel love, passion, freedom; she would taste them like they all did—day in, day out.
"I'll see you tomorrow. Get some rest—you look tired," he said and turned towards the door when Hinata grabbed his hand. Sasuke looked back at her with a start. He saw the hard resolve on her face, and then lowered his eyes to her fingers that gripped his hand. He closed his eyes and smiled a bold and meaningful smile. "This is a mistake. I don't think this is the way to get back at Naruto."
"Stay here . . . with me," Hinata said in a strong voice that surprised even her. Her bold expression remained plastered over her face. She did not waver as she kept looking into his eyes in the room's dimness, gripped by the need for passion. He would be the new leaf in her life's book—a new beginning! Everyone started from . . . somewhere . . .
Sasuke remained silent, meeting her nigh white eyes with a calmer sign of lust. He felt as though he was being fooled: he never expected Hinata to let slip these words from her lips. Naruto really had pushed her to her limit. It was almost pitiful—it was almost too easy . . .
"I don't want you . . . to leave . . . " she said in a voice laced with the depths of such passion that he felt that familiar male itch. She moved her hand up and touched the zip on his jacket and pulled it down gently. Her timid demeanour, corrupted by the newness of lust, was quite the sight to behold that he bent his head down and took her lips, and she welcomed them without hesitation . . .
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EN: It took Naruto over a month to learn Rasengan (an incomplete technique), and still he couldn't create it with a single hand—he used three. According to Jiraiya, it's a show of poor skill; furthermore, to learn Futon-Rasen-Shuriken, Naruto left a robust tree naked in his quest to learn to cut a single leaf with Futon. He took one leaf per clone, by the way, to complete this task; so we're talking about thousands of clones and decades of experience here. Even then, Naruto consistently used three hands for a single Rasengan in war, only managing to create it with one hand right at the end. The fact that he'd made thousands of clones (and amassed Lord knows how many decades' worth of experience as a result) over the narrative's course makes this whole thing seem fairly silly. (He couldn't use Futon-Rasen-Shuriken with one hand till he didn't receive Sage of the Six Path's Senjutsu, so that's also a curious thing.)