Chapter Twenty-Two: Taking on the Team's Charge
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Autumn rains came and went. From this far, rocks by the shore had gained new colours: the bottoms of pebbles, coated with a loamy material; a thick green layer encrusted the large stones' tops like grass—lake waters cracked their surface and left them withered.
At dusk, horizon was a discontinuous and abrupt boundary. The air dispersed as he breathed out a sigh, his warm breath coming out as white smoke. His feet navigated amongst the countless pebbles along the shoreline that seemed to run up north for miles. As mist rose upwards and outwards from the waters, his blue eyes deepened into sapphire. He wrinkled his nose and sneezed: autumn always made him allergic, or maybe it was that damned fungi he touched earlier out of curiosity. He even smelt it!
He flashed his blue eyes on the girl standing not far from him; his face had that impatient look. "How long do I have to do this?" he shouted louder than he should have and clenched his fingers to stop the chakra-flow to his right hand. The Rasengan fizzled and disappeared. Lightning fulminated overhead, and a burst of wind disturbed the calm ripples upon the lake and broke the mist.
"We should go back to the house, Karin," Neji said and put a hand over his head to shield himself from the drizzle. "Sasuke-Sama said that he shouldn't push himself."
"Stop treating me like I'm a child," Naruto said over the shushing wind, "I can hear you, a'right?" He jerked his head away in a huff.
"Naruto, I'm just—"
"Quiet, Naruto!" Karin cut across Neji and fingered her glasses. "I'm tired of your complaining. We're going to do what Sasuke said. It's almost evening, and you've made some progress today. Pick up your little bag—we're done for the day."
Naruto fixed his angry deep-blue eyes on her. "And where's Sasuke? He hasn't come here for nearly a week," he paused and breathed in loudly. "I've got to talk to him 'bout something . . . "
"Sasuke-Sama's on leave," Neji explained and jumped down from a large rain-washed stone. "He won't be back on duty for a while."
"Did Itachi say that?" Naruto asked, and a faint emotion danced across his face, but he guarded it well.
"Yes, Naruto, he said that. I don't know why you keep forgetting that he's the Captain of the Squads. He told us that he'll be handling some of Sasuke-Sama's missions," Neji said and shoved his hands into his pockets. Naruto turned his head away. "I know you're upset, but someone had put you under a powerful Genjutsu. We don't know who did that—and why. You need to stay calm."
"I'll bet he said that," Naruto mumbled; Neji's words fell on deaf ears as he did not seem to have heard anything he said afterwards. He was in a pale rage, soft whiskers standing up on his cheeks. His chest tightened, with something turning inside, but the feeling subsided quickly.
Karin narrowed her eyes. The seal was almost done, but he was slipping again because of that erratic temper. Sasuke had spun a story of a Genjutsu. Naruto and Hinata did live on Leaf's boundary: some rouges attacked him and took with them a scroll. It was a simple story, and Neji was told to treat this in an official manner.
Karin jumped down and scanned the area. She could not sense anything for more than ten kilometres in all directions. They were in the clear. Thunder sounded again, louder and insistent. She cast her pink-ish eyes on the house that stood tucked under a cluster of bowing trees. When touched by wind, their boughs shook and shivered; it had not been kind to their young.
Sasuke and Itachi used this house when they travelled further up North to hunt. It was small and clean and had a garden at the back. It had enough tools for Neji and Karin to use—just in case if someone found them. Its roof was cracked through by many purple wisterias crawling out from the crevices; rains lashed it good; but, underneath the wooden structure, the roof had a waterproof material, so they were safe till Sasuke would (inevitably) get furious over the slow speed of repairs.
Her lips curled down in a deep scowl. Sasuke had left her in quite the mess; whoever was stirring that thing inside Naruto wanted him to lose control and die. It would be easier to kill the love-starved woman Sasuke suspected, but he wanted to do this the hardest way! Pulling from the thoughts, she walked to Naruto and Neji, her sandals sinking into the mud.
Karin scanned the area again, her senses hitting the bodies of each animal she could find. There were several birds sitting about on the branches some hundred feet away. The forest was quiet, and disturbed by rain, it gave the illusion of being alive. Naruto was still protesting. Neji possessed the patience of a saint, she thought.
"I'm just saying—" Naruto protested again and raised his hands into the air.
Karin cut across him, her tone of voice sharp, her fingers squeezing her arms: "pick up your bag, Naruto. We're leaving!"
Naruto spun around to face her, features contorting, teeth clenching . . . she was just pushing him over to the edge. "You're not my boss!" he hissed, and she saw something ripple his features in the subtlest of ways, but it got defeated. "Stop ordering me around."
A smile broke Karin's face. The seal was done. She turned her gaze on Neji who was staring at Naruto with a bit of disbelief on his face. These temper tantrums were new to him, but it did not matter—as long as she was ahead of her foes, it was just a matter of playing the game right.
Karin touched her glasses out of habit again and looked through the raindrops coursing down the frame of her glasses. "You've regained a bit of control over your chakra," she began and took three short breaths to warm up her body, "that's enough for the day. Do you want to get sick again? Don't push yourself. Take it slow."
Naruto brought his gaze upon her, an unfriendly gaze, but he did not say anything. He grudgingly picked up his bag and marched to the house. Neji stared after him. He had a pink hue in his cheeks now—he did not seem to enjoy the cold. "I've never seen Naruto this upset," he paused and squared his shoulders and rubbed his hands together as though he was nervous, "I wonder when Sasuke-Sama will get back. I want to know what kind of Genjutsu it was."
He had an air of uncertainty about him, and then he slowly walked behind Naruto. This was not going as smoothly as Sasuke had planned. The seal blocked out the chakra inside Naruto from his Byakugan—a secret to his eyes—but how long would this seal last? Karin frowned. She had never made something like this before. Sasuke had just crossed the first hurdle . . .
Doubt weighed down heavily upon her heart; the feeling compounded. She chose not think much of it and cast a reassuring gaze to the lake, as if it was her secret companion, and followed Neji.
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A week passed by in dreaming: Hinata had not seen Sasuke—standing under the roof of the Uchiha manor made her realise that even more. Itachi had asked few Squad members to bring their reports in. Sasuke left a lengthy mission and duty-roster for the whole week. She went on her first mission with Yuu, together with two other Chūnins, to the border as a guard for an official from the Capital.
The mission went better than the previous one. Her eyes proved to be a valuable asset in Neji's absence, who had gone off on an un-disclosed mission with Karin and Naruto. She had not seen him for more than a week. Breathing out loudly, she looked at the red light, coming from an old lantern on Itachi's office-table, overpower the shadows around it. The black barely touched the colour as though ceding its territory to it.
Itachi's table was neat—perhaps a little too neat. Every little item was arranged perfectly. There was not a brush, not a scroll out of place. Presently, a scroll lay open on it, a brush rolling back and forth over its unfinished lines. A light breeze had snuck in and was making it restless. He seemed to have left it in a hurry . . .
Behind the low table was an alcove and a towering rack filled with scrolls. It cast a long shadow in front that was cut up into two just above the red light. She wanted to sit down on the cushion by her feet, but chose to stand. Itachi preferred to sit on the tatami mat—a tradition his family upheld to this day.
A powerful burst of wind played with the bamboo outside, and it smacked itself against the rocks above and below it, putting out dull sounds repeatedly. It suddenly stopped moving. Hinata moved her gaze away from the closed window, stared down, and scratched her right foot with the left. Then she lifted her eyes and looked at the clock above the rack: she had been standing here for the past thirty minutes . . .
Taking one step forward, she bent down and placed the scroll on the table and stole a glance at the scroll. Sakura's name caught her eye, but, when she heard footsteps on the other side of the door, she backed away quickly. The sounds faded, replaced by the wind's whistling.
Presently, sounds wafted to Hinata, faint and indistinct upon breeze. She strained her ears and tiptoed to the door. Then she pulled at the door till it was slightly ajar and pressed herself against it and listened; and again she caught the sounds of voices that broke in upon this room's silence; only this time, they made it to her ears, unobstructed by the door.
"You are still warm," Itachi's voice, mellowed by wind and distance, came from beyond the door down the corridor; a chink in the door allowed a sharp light to throw in its white colour at the wall; there, a grey rippled, almost pressed against the knife wedged into its body. "Drink this. It will ease your pain." After a slight pause, his voice came to her again: "you child. What am I to do with you? Why do you not listen to me?"
Strange . . . Hinata could not hear what Sasuke said in response. Immediately, she backed away and stood by the table when she heard Itachi close the door; his footsteps grew closer and heavier with each step, as though he carried the invisible weight of his shadow along with him. A moment passed and the door swung open: Itachi's usual emotionless face greeted her; but this time, Hinata noticed a power behind his eyes as they fell upon her countenance, made hazy by the shadows; and despite the missing reds from his clan, she saw something stir in the blacks of them for her: disgust . . . ?
Hastily, Hinata bowed and muttered a greeting that was met with the same icy silence. When she looked up that look had vanished. "Why are you still here?" he asked, quite suddenly which startled her, and walked around the table. "Your office hours have come to an end." He grabbed his Anbu jacket, hanging from a nail on the side of the rack, and looked at her.
"Y-Yuu," she paused and thoughtlessly smoothed down the wrinkles on her jacket, "he asked me to give you the scroll."
"I am sure he must have asked of you to leave the scroll on my table," he spoke and pulled his hair out from under the jacket, now fastened to his narrow waist by few buckles—a typical Anbu jacket. His, however, had an Anbu Captain's mark (a visible black one in the shape of a Shuriken) on the back. "I have few matters to attend. You may leave." With that, he cast her such an unkind gaze and walked out of the room, silence hanging from his flesh.
It was said that curiosity killed the cat, and Hinata wanted to be that cat tonight; but satisfaction brought it back, too! Turning to her Byakugan, she saw the exquisite Uchiha chakra run and burn through Itachi's veins as he walked out of the main gate. His was . . . less powerful than Sasuke's . . . ? His was in control, tamed by a colder will that granted it stillness at the cost of a restless power that Sasuke's flesh fed upon with child-like greed (his chakra, which sought an escape in his Sharingan, would have overwhelmed the mind had it existed in another's body)—perhaps Itachi was born this way. She could not say for sure.
There was no one in his house, and just beyond the door lay Sasuke, his chakra a mess of irregular currents which sped about, without a direction to their destinations. Hinata did not need to turn her head to see one servant attending to the dishes in the kitchen. She cautiously walked to the door, each step, a slow and deliberate struggle against her own nerves. If Itachi came back—who knew what he would do! Stupid—stupid! she scolded herself and puffed out her cheeks with a frustrated breath.
Itachi had told her to leave, but damn that curiosity; she was such a weak master of her passions. She opened the door, and a mass of white light poured onto her. It was a very large room: beautiful partition screens stood behind the lanterns and delicate paper windows wore black shadows like clothes.
There was a table put next to one partition screen: it was clean and tidy and Hinata perceived in the arrangement of various articles a neatness of character (she thought she saw it that way). She turned off her Byakugan and looked at the thick quilted Kakebuton; it was the most beautiful one she had ever seen, and beneath it lay Sasuke. It was a traditional sleeping bed made with a set of Shikibuton and Makura. Itachi was an austere man. It did not surprise her that he and Sasuke preferred to live this way. Her family did, too.
This was Itachi's room? Turning around, Hinata walked backwards and looked at the scroll paintings. The one behind the table, in the alcove, showed a mischievous child-deity of lightning playing in the rain; she thought she saw crows under the shadows, too. Hinata spun around and gazed upon the neatly arranged piles of scrolls in the racks. Right next to the futon was another low table: a pail of water was placed on the side, and a damp cotton cloth hung from its handle.
Sitting down beside Sasuke, Hinata looked at the cup. A few sips of a colourless liquid were left at the bottom. She brought her eyes upon Sasuke: he was drawing short, quick breaths, and his right hand lay trembling over his heaving breast; his cracked lips had countless red cuts; red stains dappled the sides of the white makura, too. He looked weak, vulnerable, a sheen upon his forehead and a look of pain in his face.
She had never seen him this way. In that small moment, gripped by past's passions, she leant down and caressed his damp, hot cheeks with her lips, planting light and greedy kisses along the side of his jaw; then her lips found his, and she kissed him deeply and relished the scent and bitter rosy taste of medicine upon his tongue. Her fingers fluttered lovingly across his neck and shoulders, mapping a path along his collarbone and over the trembling, heated skin on his flesh. His vulnerability was beautiful—new!
When Hinata pulled back, his lips were red, full of heat from her kiss and of blood. A tear, thick and red, trailed down his cheek in answer, brought out fear upon her face. Did she do something wrong? Quickly, she grabbed the cloth and wiped it away. Sasuke's eyes opened, and they bore the flower-like pattern she had seen before.
Hinata staggered back when he sat upright with a speed she did not think his body possessed. She did not even know when he moved, and she found herself being lifted off the ground, her throat in his tight-as-rope grasp. He threw her back, and she skidded across the floor and got knocked against the wall. "S-Sasuke?" she asked, her voice bathed in disbelief and fear.
He staggered on the floor, frail from fever, his usual composure shattered by a quick mingling of fear, anger, and resentment. "You . . . " he hissed out and stopped with a heart-shuddering, pained groan and slapped his hand on the side of his face to cover his right eye: it seemed to cause him great pain. "You—your fath—y-you ruined—" Blood spurted out, runny and quick, from between his fingers that dug into his temple as though searching for his face. He let out another sharp hiss and slumped to the wooden floor, only to defiantly stand up again with immense speed.
Lightning crackled over Sasuke's left hand and turned into his signature Jutsu: Chidori. Then, as though possessed, he rushed to her, an indistinguishable blur; Hinata let out a loud scream and covered her eyes. "Sasuke, stop," Itachi spoke, and his voice made her open her eyes. He stood between Sasuke and her, Sasuke's left hand in his firm grasp, his right pushing him back. "Put it out. Calm down."
Chakra jumped to life in his right hand, and he shot it forward with frightening speed. Itachi was fast. He grabbed hold of Sasuke's right hand, but a spear shot out from the tip of the radiating chakra. He hit Sasuke's extended arm with his elbow. The spear went through the wall, an inch away from Hinata's face, and travelled zig-zag at erratic angles to the right and tore into more the half of the room's walls. Hinata's lips trembled. It was happening so fast!
"Put it out. Listen to me," Itachi spoke, sweat dribbling from the tip of his chin. His office sandals slipped back on the smooth wooden floor and squeaked; his whole body was firm, his left arm thrust forward, to keep Sasuke at bay. Sasuke's hand trembled in his grasp, and his eyes bled severely. "Sasuke, stop. Listen to your brother. Calm down." Sasuke was so frail already. Using Genjutsu on him now would surely ruin him . . . Itachi did not want that. Tonight, words were all he had. He did not want to hurt Sasuke more; he did not want to risk it.
Despite the buzz in Hinata's ears, they did not miss the note of urgency in Itachi's voice. What was happening to Sasuke? She crawled to the right; her back was pressed hard against the broken wall, as if she was hoping for it to swallow her. "Go away! You liar!" Sasuke hissed, the character of his features carrying the profound marks of anger—and fear.
With great strength, which Itachi did not think he possessed, he pushed him aside and rushed forward—a shadow. Itachi moved faster and grabbed both of Sasuke's hands whilst he charged his chakra again. He squeezed his wrists with greater strength and snuffed out the noisy current. "Listen to me. I will not hurt you. You have my word," he assured him and twisted Sasuke's wrists a little as the chakra rekindled on the fingertips. "Calm down," he added, assuaging his brother's fears. Then he twisted Sasuke's wrists some more to stop the flow.
Emitting a hiss, Sasuke sank down to the floor, his wrists twisted in Itachi's hands. His fingers contorted into claws, trembling like that of a convulsing man's. The chakra refused to go out. Despite being so ill, he released a massive Raiton charge from his body. The layer of impenetrable composure cracked on Itachi's face. His lips trembled as the charge shot deep into his body.
A tiny breath of pain came from Itachi's lips, and, slowly, he sank down to his knees. If he had not been a master of chakra control himself, it would have stopped his heart and killed him. Sasuke's hands were still held in his. The hurting sensation loosened his grip, and Sasuke pushed him back. He threw his arms across his face and braced his chakra-filled muscles. The coming current struck the front of him and cut into his arms like glass and blood sluiced down his elbows. The impact pushed him further back, but he steadied his body swiftly to catch his balance. Now, he shivered, powerful surges messing up the signals from his nerves—his body, a wonderful bundle of pain.
Hinata's eyes were wide open, her mouth hanging open in mid-scream, as another blur came at her. Itachi moved faster, grabbed hold of Sasuke, pushed him against the wall. Sasuke broke free again. The whole room was like a children's theatre-show with a spectacle of blurs, which went running all over the place, which stopped at moments to capture Sasuke's movements whilst he struggled to break free from Itachi . . . against the wall, on the floor . . . Itachi finally managed to restrain him and threw him into the wall—harshly this time. He pressed his fingers against Sasuke's brow to push his own chakra through Sasuke's damp skin, to make him lose consciousness.
"L-Let go!" Sasuke said, his voice shaky and boy-like, his eyes disorientated as he gasped for air, his right hand pulling Itachi's away from his face but to no avail. He was too weak; but he mustered all of his remaining strength and pushed Itachi back and vanished from the room.
"Sasuke," Itachi called out behind him. He was breathing heavily. He started for the door, but stopped and turned his face—soiled by wintery rage—to Hinata, his eyes two cups of malice.
"You," he let out the most frigid sound that sent a shiver galloping through to her whole heart, "leave. Now."
A kunai shook in his right hand, from which red still dribbled, his body indecisive. When his words struck Hinata like a blow, she scrambled to her feet and ran out. She did not stop till the walls of her empty home did not greet her. It was one of the few moments in life when she felt safe there.
The night was wild, and Itachi chased Sasuke through the forest and stopped at the sight of many purple lilies growing and shining under the full moon. It looked as if a current of air was moving through a silk cloth and rippling its surface in the meadow. Sasuke lay in the middle, nearly obscured by flowers swaying.
He took slow steps and knelt down beside Sasuke's trembling form; he placed a hand on Sasuke's head and stroked his hair to try and calm his reactions—it was hopeless . . . Sasuke's eyes seemed to look at something beyond him, his lips moving and repeating the same words over and over again: "autumn moth . . . going for purple lilies . . . moth . . . lilies . . . " The older brother, unaccustomed to an open display of emotions, pressed the back of his fingers to his lips and there was a hint of remorse upon his face . . .
It was easy to take Sasuke back home; he was delirious and exhausted when Itachi put him to sleep. By the time he reached his Anbu office, it was nearly twelve a.m. He had changed his clothes and looked as emotionless as before. He had a trick to these things, but he was not the sharing type. His eyes fell upon Sakura who sprang to her feet when he stepped into the office.
"Itachi-Sama!" she said in a manner as though she was announcing her presence and gave a quick bow of her head.
"I hope you brought your scrolls along as I do not have the time to entertain another mishap today," he spoke and occupied the chair across the table from her.
"Y-Yes!" Sakura said, her face a little pink from embarrassment.
Itachi took the scroll from her hand and read the details. "You have been training to become a Sensor under the Sensor-Squad Captain, Sai? May I ask the reason as you have done so without Sasuke's knowledge?" he asked, placed the scroll down on the table, and leant back into the chair and placed his arms on the finely polished armrests. (His arms were clean and white; his wounds, gone!)
"How did—?" Sakura stopped, her face breaking out in sweat.
"When an Anbu Commander requires mission-assistance from a shinobi, his records are divulged by the Hokage. Did you think that this would remain a happy little secret?" he spoke from behind the grey in the office, his eyes as black as his face.
"N-No, Itachi-Sama," she stammered and rubbed her fingers together.
"Bring your tools with you tomorrow. You will be assisting me on a mission," he spoke, his voice laced thickly with authority.
"But Sasuke left a—"
"I am handling Sasuke's missions," he cut across her. "It would be for the best if you did not question me and simply obeyed." He looked up to see a slow shiver crawl up from the base of her legs.
"I apologise," she blurted out quite nervously and gave another hasty bow. "Please, forgive me."
"You may leave," he spoke in a flat tone of voice and watched as she left the office with an uncertain gait. He did not hold his gaze long and looked at the candle. "Learning to become a Sensor . . . " he spoke softly to himself and then stretched his hand to put out the candle, which still stood burning on his table . . .
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