I do not own Naruto.
Chapter 19
Ichiraku Teuchi was a cheerful person. He was known for his height and, of course, was a celebrated artisan in the culinary arts. He was the best at what he did. Although his lack of ambition for business expansion put others in his trade financially ahead, he recently thought to remodel the ramen stand into a restaurant. This would create more jobs and ultimately expand Konoha's economic success. An artisan first, many in the culinary circle would say.
But it was not so. Those closest to him could attest to this.
First, he was a human sensitive to spiritual things like love and compassion. And second, he was a family man. He was the oldest of seven brothers and uncle to many, many nephews. His pride and joy, however, were his daughters.
Straight out of tertiary school, his eldest daughter married a banker. She brought forth three beautiful grandsons into the world. Teuchi had never known a greater happiness than being a grandfather.
His youngest daughter had followed in Teuchi's professional footsteps. Ever since Ayame could speak, she proclaimed she wanted to be like her Otousan. She followed him around and would often be upset she had to go to school instead of join him at work. And Teuchi, naturally, had a favorite child though he'd never admit it.
Their mother had been taken too soon. The pain of losing Yukino dulled over time but never truly left, resurfacing every now and then. Her early demise prompted Teuchi to meticulously train his daughters on the ways of the world. He became mother and father to his girls. He made sure his daughters knew how to respect others and themselves.
He continued to buy girlish clothing with lace and flowers for them. He often complimented his beautiful girls on their looks and rewarded every good deed. He learned how to braid and brush hair. He recruited a brother's wife to guide Yumi once Lady Red visited her. He hired extra help at the stand so he could make dinner every night and help with academic studies. If he couldn't, he was very blessed to have a family who happily stepped in. As they were the only girls in the family, Teuchi also frequently argued with his brothers and their wives not to spoil them.
And when it came to boys—Teuchi tried to teach his daughters how to be tough and withstand boyish charms and deception. Admittedly, he wasn't too sure if he had succeeded in this. Yumi married her first crush (who was much older) and Ayame had been obsessed with a baker's son for the better part of her adolescence. Near the end of their friendship, the boy treated her more like a pet than anything else, much to the consternation of every adult in the Ichiraku family. Teuchi had been quite glad that mess ended.
Ayame's suffering, however, had been very difficult to watch as a parent.
Thirdly, Ichiraku Teuchi was a proud citizen of Konohagakure. Not having any talent as a shinobi, he had still been an abled body man during the second and third war. He served as head chef and experienced his fair share of horrors throughout each war.
And so, when the Rokudaime Hokage of Konohagakure knocked on Teuchi's door one evening, he was welcomed in.
It was poker night and Kakashi joined. His son in law won almost every round, much to the consternation of Teuchi's brothers. They hadn't planned for a genius tactician to join their midst. Secretly, everyone began to believe they may not have to involve money. They figured they would have to pretend they never played for stakes (because gambling was not legal and this was their Hokage). So when the game ended, and Kakashi extended his palm out and beckoned his fingers inwards in the universal sign for "pay up," the Ichiraku brothers all grumbled and emptied their pockets.
It wasn't a surprise that Kakashi remained after everyone went home. He wanted a word with Teuchi. The two men faced off, gazes serious and unyielding.
What could the younger man have to say. Would he apologize for aiding Ayame in deceiving her father? Would he ask forgiveness for having relations with a foolish girl before marrying her? Would he confess to some sort of perverse agenda that got out of hand? Or would Kakashi try to convince Teuchi that he truly loved his daughter and, although fighting against his better judgement, ultimately lost to the passion and the need to be with the woman of his dreams?
"It's a girl," the Hokage simply said and left.
Ichiraku—no—Hatake Ayame's life had changed so much in the last seven months that should her past self ever visit the present…well, she'd be very suspicious and convinced she was still under some sort of ninja genjutsu thingy. That, or she'd finally lost it.
One, she always assumed she'd work at Ichiraku's, and two, she figured she'd end up alone after a failed courtship and would have to rely on one of her sister's sons to be her retirement plan.
Now she maintained an organized eight-week rotating schedule and curriculum for dozens of professional cooks and their assistants to teach basic culinary arts and/or healthy coping mechanisms to patients suffering from post-traumatic stress disorders and/or childhood enslavement. Sometimes, after an intense session with one of the psychological clinicians, an elite jonin would show up for a class to unwind.
Oh. And she didn't end up alone like she always feared she would. She married Hatake Kakashi, renowned shinobi, sensei of the second generation sannin, Copy Cat ninja, Sharingan Kakashi (not anymore he often reminded her) and the Yondaime's student. Mostly he was now known as the Rokudaime Hokage of Konohagakure, or as Ayame liked to occasionally call him, anata.
Their relationship had an unorthodox beginning, filled with unbearable pining from a distance and a lot of misunderstandings. One thing she and Kakashi had learned that was very important in a romantic relationship: communication, communication, and some more communication. They could have avoided so many quarrels if they both hadn't been so inept at loving and being loved. And boy had they been doing a lot of loving lately.
Ayame blushed all to herself, staring off, eyes glazed over in deep reflection.
She and Kakashi were properly married now, which meant that they—that he—she internally squealed (as to not draw unwarranted attention amid the surrounding women vigorously discussing nursery decor in the Hatake family room. They animatedly chatted away in a cacophony of pink and plush suggestions. Haruhi scribbled faster than Ayame had ever seen, shooting her hand in the air and waving it to get everyone's attention, tapping repeatedly at her notepad. Kurenai and Hinata were energetic too, going toe to toe with Yumi and Sakura's louder personalities.)
All Ayame could think about was the last month. She was very pregnant, so their intimacy was rather restricted and slower than she remembered their first time being. Though, Kakashi was quite the creative. His vitality more than made up for her potato-like participation. A potato, he assured, who was very pleasing to look at and 'definitely good enough to eat.'
He tested various positions and locations to properly—to better—to make love! Ayame sort of just experienced, mostly unable to mutter an intelligible word due to the intensity it all involved.
Totally opposite, Kakashi was very fond of talking during the act. He was encouraging and…well, the man was downright filthy. It all seemed perfectly tolerable during lovemaking for some reason. Less could not be done on her part. He'd have her lay on her side or dig her knees into a cushion. Anything she did, really, was met with ardent reception so she figured she was doing something right.
Ayame sighed, utterly enamored with her husband and how handsome and sexy and gentle—
"U-um, Ayame-sama, are you okay?"
"Sensei sorta gets that look when he's reading those books."
"Oh wow—Kakashi does get that look."
"…"
"Oh my God, Aya-chan, you're drooling."
Ayame, albeit slowly, came to the realization that her daydreaming was being called out. Quite obviously trying to change the direction of conversation, the Daishukujo said, "Kakashi-san has been very busy lately."
"I'll bet," Yumi mumbled. Kurenai placed a hand over her mouth, failing to cover a smirk. The two had formed an unlikely alliance due to Mirai's persistent claim that Chiyoda was now her 'bestest friend in the world,' much to the boy's dismay.
Hinata nodded, the entire conversation going over her head. "Naruto-kun left a few weeks ago on a mission. It's the first time we've been apart for so long. It's quite lonely." Ayame already knew this because Naruto hadn't joined their morning classes for some time, and, of course, the Hokage himself had given her a heads up.
Sakura's face crumbled. "He's joined Sasuke-kun."
Haruhi made a name sign and Ayame interpreted, "and Raiden, our family friend. Kakashi-san doesn't tell me much about that mission. But I think I know enough with working at the clinic and getting to know the refugees."
"You still call sensei 'Kakashi-san'?" Sakura's interest was piqued. The women all stared at Ayame. Yumi just rolled her eyes.
"That's—erm—that's because—the thing is—I do say 'anata'…sometimes."
Sakura squealed. "He must love that!"
"How very sweet." Kurenai smiled.
Yumi leaned in cunningly. "I've heard her call him sensei."
"Nechan!"
Sakura fell on her side, holding her stomach as she laughed. "It can't be worse than what Hinata's called Naruto in private!"
The Hyuga turned a mighty red. "N-n-no, Sakura-san!"
The pinkette pointed a finger. "She calls him 'Hokage-sama'!"
All the ladies burst into guffaws as Hinata ducked her head. Haruhi patted the Hyuga's back considerately, her own thin shoulders trembling in mirth. Ayame couldn't wait to tell Kakashi.
The women left but Hinata lingered on the front steps of the Hatake home. Ayame smiled, leaning her shoulder against the pergola's column. "How can I help you, Hinata-san?"
"I wanted to thank you. For some time now, actually."
Ayame raised her brows, not sure of what she was talking about.
The younger woman bowed. "Thank you for speaking with Naruto-kun about my decision to marry despite the traditions of my clan."
"Oh! You're welcome." Kakashi had mentioned something about that resolution, but the man was a tad too vague in disclosing others' personal information. Vague enough that any wife worth her nosy-salt would not be satisfied. Naruto hadn't brought up the conclusion in their morning lessons, either. "If I may ask...why?"
Hinata straightened, serene expression in place. Her hands remained folded on her abdomen like a proper lady. Such polite mannerisms were typical of the Hyuga. "The truth is my position as heiress was never concrete. My younger sister is much more fit to lead than I, for many reasons. All my life it was a topic of great contention amongst the clan. My exogamy…it was accepted by our elders without a real fight."
"Was it something you ever wanted?"
Hinata lightly shook her head. "It often felt like a burden. I tried very hard for the sake of my clan but in the end I only ever just barely met every expectation. Once…once Naruto-kun acknowledged my love, it was not very hard to relinquish my birthright. My clan was pleased that I married someone like Naruto-kun."
"He's the best," Ayame said with a wide grin that made Hinata laugh behind her hand.
"He is—but it's not why they approved." A tender smile blossomed across Hinata's features. "The Hyuga are quite proud to have one of their own become the Daishukujo one day."
Ayame gasped. "That's right!" She quickly, but carefully, waddled down the steps and grabbed Hinata's hands. Her pale eyes widened. "You will be the Daishukujo just like me!" It wasn't presumptuous. Everyone knew who Kakashi would choose. And if he didn't, well, he would have to deal with a lot of disillusioned people, including the wife he had to come home to.
A pretty blush grazed Hinata's nose. "Is…is it hard?"
"Hmm." Ayame crossed her arms and pursed her lips, thinking. "All the bowing and formality is a little embarrassing. You're instantly recognized anywhere you go." She measured the younger woman. "Now that I think about it… you're probably used to that being a noble clan's princess and all." A noble clan with a physical feature recognized anywhere.
Hinata's mouth opened in a silent gasp. "You're right!"
"You probably won't even notice the difference," Ayame surmised. "You can just pretend the bowing people on the streets are part of your clan."
"I never thought about it that way b-but I guess the Hokage treats the village like one big clan. His wife should, too."
"I think we're on to something here, Hinata-san!"
"M-me, too!"
"And then she said I was basically a clan heiress." Ayame was smirking, hands on her nonexistent waist, nodding to herself. She was perched on the bed with her feet happily kicking at the air.
Freshly cleaned hand-me-downs encircled her in neatly folded piles. Otousan had sent a family member to deliver a box of her and Yumi's salvaged childhood clothing; first blankies, newborn outfits, pieces of fabric and lace that had endured the passage of time.
Kakashi laughed at her antics. His gaze was lowered, mouth curved in mirth, as he continued to sharpen some of his older weapons. Two scrolls with storage seals were unfurled before him. He'd take a round of kunai or shuriken from one scroll, buffer them, line them up on the second scroll, and then transfer them over with a hand sign. They'd disappear in a puff of smoke. He explained to Ayame that he kept hundreds of weapons stored in there. Hundreds!
After dinner, she found him like this on the floor of their room and asked to join him. He consented but unnecessarily clarified she was not to handle such dangerous weapons. She had rolled her eyes, explaining she meant to go about her own task and inspect her father's box. He only said 'oh' and continued polishing.
It was obvious even to Ayame that the man was becoming more protective the bigger she became.
She had muttered an "ow" during sex the other night and Kakashi all but ran out the room. Mortified that his proclivities may have injured his delicate wife, he proposed they wait until after the baby was born. Ayame stared at him for some time before her gaze dropped to his disagreeing lap. "But I don't wanna," she said and that was that.
Currently, the man was shirtless and wore short spandex interchangeably used as sleep underwear. As his arms worked side to side, so did the rest of his muscular tendons—shoulders, chest, abdominal region. Even his thighs coiled and released when he leaned over to discard a shined weapon. Ayame noncommittedly paired baby socks, thoughts consumed with silver happy trails.
At first, she had been curious as to how weapons were sharpened and maintained. Seeing that it was repetitive and exactly how one polished kitchenware, she became abnormally entranced with the way his body flexed. Here was a warrior who knew how to kill a man in more ways than she knew how to make a meal. Here was a man that knew how to make his wife feel very, very good.
Ayame swallowed, fiddling with the clothing on her lap.
Kakashi glanced over and noted the socks that had been in her hands for some time now. His brows rose. "Would you like some help?"
She knew he knew and was teasing her—but she was not in a teasing mood. His playful smirk warmed her achingly, down to her very core. Were these feelings normal? She owlishly glanced at her lap and then back at him.
He poofed all the weapons away without breaking eye contact. Ayame got up and stood before him. His hands reached for her calves. His palms slid to her ankles and then back up, kneading her muscles, caressing her skin.
"Oh anata—" Ayame lowered herself. Kakashi's hands hovered by her sides as she sat on her heels. His hands repositioned themselves on the tops of her thighs. She didn't know how to—how to initiate. Usually, Kakashi would. The most she did was as current: placing herself in his line of sight with big, pleading eyes, hoping he'd read her mind.
He leaned forward and kissed her. She exhaled and then—and then she threw her arms around his neck. He had her undressed in seconds.
"Turn around."
"O-okay."
"Hold on to the edge of the bed."
"Hm!" Her fingers curled into the draping cover. She maneuvered her knees atop the pillows he arranged.
His lips descended onto her shoulder, suckling her skin between his teeth. "So beautiful," he said against her flesh.
His pace was steady and gentle. His hands cupped her breasts, mindful of their tenderness. His considerate affection enflamed and roused such vulnerable sentiment from the very depths of who she was. A tear accumulated at the corner of Ayame's lashes and fell away to land on his cheek.
"Oh, Ayame." Kakashi angled her jaw towards him. His lips sought hers. By now he knew her tears came from love and not sorrow or pain.
More tears. How could she not cry from such intimacy? Her very soul was resonating with his. His touch stirred in her such powerful emotions. She felt as if her mind floated above hot clouds, heavy with lightening and rain. His touches were raindrops calling forth bursts of greenery to twist and hurl towards the sky.
At the village gates, Kakashi stepped through pods of refugees, politely welcoming those who glanced his way. It was too warm in July to wear the formal red and white robe, but the conical hat with silky flaps and coils made him stick out just the same (that's the point, Minata-sensei had chided a pedantic nine-year-old Kakashi when he said wearing such accessories made the Hokage an obvious target).
Medical personals were littered about, taking vitals. Administrators wrote names, ages, nationality, and whatever information could be gathered from a wide range of ages. Kakashi's eyes narrowed at the toddlers being examined, some were half asleep and some were crying. Some had soulless eyes peering into the distance as their temperatures were taken. An Anbu member who'd been away for months wrapped a child in a wool blanket. Another child was rocked and sung to by a familiar musician.
Kakashi had reached out to the vagabond musicians he had encountered on his honeymoon, remembering they would be performing in Ame throughout the month of June. He asked Akira, the leader, if their large wagons could be used to guise a mass exodus. The rambunctious man had agreed.
Benevolence was a thing not only executed by shinobi. Ramen girls and rowdy musicians with bright outfits were just as capable in being heroes.
And Naruto's summons could only swallow so many people.
Off towards the distance, Tanako Raiden sat on the back of a wagon with Sasuke. Both exhausted men were having what seemed to be a casual discussion. Sasuke smiled at something said.
"Ojisan!" A blur of electric hair zoomed past Kakashi. Soota's tiny arms were spread wide open. Raiden jumped off the wagon. He ran towards the little boy, donning a massive grin. He caught the boy up in a tight embrace.
Off to the side, Sasuke was glomped by a blur of pink.
"My little man! I've missed you." Soota wept into Raiden's neck. The man rubbed the boy's back. Raiden caught Kakashi's gaze and both men nodded at one another before the former was suddenly surrounded by excited friends. Among the salutations were Haruhi-san, men from the ramen stand, and the Ichiraku sisters. Everyone took a turn giving him solid back pats and lingering hugs that squished Soota. Raiden clenched his eyes shut against the onslaught of emotions riled from the warm welcome.
The moment Raiden managed to fully face a radiant Ayame, his eyes widened. Stunned, he handed an unwilling Soota back to his mother. Yumi tugged on Raiden's sleeve, pulling him forward. The Ichiraku siblings embraced each other in laughter and tears.
"Aya-chan, you're huge!"
"Shut up!"
"Makes sense now why you got married so quick."
Ayame hurled a punch into Raiden's abdomen and the man made a show of leaning over and heaving. Yumi literally cackled.
Raiden glared at the older sister. "As evil as ever, eh Yumi?"
"Bite me, Tanako."
Seito Nagaoka, a thin but habitually well-dressed man with a dark mustache, stepped up to where Kakashi stood. "Welcome to the club, Hokage-sama."
Peering at his in law, Kakashi mumbled a "so it seems" before stepping forward to give his own welcome. Ayame was the first to notice him and waddled to his side to hold his hand. Any day was technically possible in the third trimester, Tsunade had said, mostly to unnerve him.
After pleasantries with the Ichiraku clan, Kakashi squeezed his wife's hand. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I have matters to discuss with our friend here."
"Maybe we can all go out for dinner tonight!" Ayame suggested. "If that's okay, Hokage-sama?"
Kakashi nodded. "We should be done by then."
"You'll come too?" Her eyes twinkled in anticipation.
"Of course." He grazed the back of a knuckle across her cheek in a soft caress. An instant blush bloomed on his wife's face.
A young Ichiraku employee by the name of Aoi slung an arm around Raiden's shoulders. "They just opened a great barbecue place."
Soota rock climbed Raiden's body. "I wuv barBEEcuTe!" Haruhi-san nodded eagerly as she peeled her child off.
"That settles it then," Nagaoka walked up and interlocked hands with Yumi. "It's on us."
Raiden wiped the back of his hand against his cheek. "Alright that sounds good." He looked around. "Where's…where's the old man?"
"Oh here and there," Yumi waved a hand in the air. Ayame squeezed Kakashi's fingers. "Anyway, stop wasting time! Go along with the Hokage and we'll see you later."
Raiden curled his upper lip. "So damn bossy," he mumbled under his breath as he approached Kakashi. "Maybe we should go before she takes over your job."
"I heard that!"
Raiden and Kakashi hurried away.
Off to the side, Sasuke extracted the weepy blur of pink from his torso and fell into step with the Hokage and Ame rogue.
On the way to the Tower, Kakashi made sure to pass a corner he had spotted Teuchi waiting by.
"My boy!" Teuchi embraced Raiden whose forehead immediately fell to the chef's shoulder. Both their tall frames shook. Kakashi and Sasuke stepped aside to give them some privacy.
"Let's celebrate!" Ayame cheered, radiant to be surrounded by her dearest people. Raiden carried Soota-chin on his shoulders, infamous smile on his face, nodding his head at what the small child incessantly discussed.
Raiden was still himself but somewhat different. The circle bread was gone and his dark hair had grown out, covering the tops of his ears. Mostly her long-time friend seemed happier than she'd ever seen him.
Haruhi had her arm looped around Ayame, soft smile in place. Aoi walked next to them. He had learned a few signs since first meeting her and was trying to confirm each meaning. Haruhi would nod or shake her head, soundlessly laughing at him. The young man was completely smitten.
Yumi and her husband led them to the barbecue house, careening and steering their rambunctious boys in the right direction. Yumi gave one of them a good spank on the behind after he pushed his brother. All the adults tried to not laugh at the boy's melodramatic excuse about why he pushed his sibling, holding his butt with both hands. This only caused him to get another whack. The boy remained grumpy the rest of the way to the restaurant with crossed arms.
Kakashi was to join them soon, per Raiden. Any minute, Ayame hoped, craving his presence more than ever. It was the strangest thing. The closer the two of them grew, the more aware of each other's absence was felt. Ayame had brought it up to Kakashi and the man's ears had reddened when he admitted he felt the same. This was love.
"What's that face for, Aya-chan?" Raiden said, smirking.
She smirked too. "You know."
"Pervert," he muttered.
"Pervert! Pervert!" Soota-chin began to parrot the word and Raiden said to stop which made the little boy pull the man's hair. "Pervert!"
"Ow! Stop it, little man!" Raiden was trying not to laugh but failed, reaching up to grab Soota-chin's chubby forearms.
Yumi and Nagaoka burst out laughing ahead of them, overhearing. Haruhi and Aoi were none the wiser, immersed in a bubble of signs and confused dialogue.
Trying not to smile stupidly, Ayame began to lift a finger to point and yell at a laughing Raiden, when suddenly, in a flurry of purple hair, Yugao was before her. Her katana was drawn, never once unsheathed in the Daishukujo's presence. Ayame froze and Yumi screamed on the top of her lungs.
Rain fell against her face and arms—no, this was blood. The smell of iron overcame her as Yugao clasped.
Raiden cursed loudly and threw Soota-chin into Aoi's arms, knocking off the chef's glasses. Raiden barked, "Get out of here! Haruhi, snap the hell out of it!" Haruhi fell to her knees, eyes filled with terror. Aoi wrapped his arms tightly against Soota-chin who was hysterical crying, arms flailing, calling for his mother. "Damnit, Aoi, run!"
"Come with me, woman."
A man stood before Ayame, his palm extended towards her. It glowed purple. His other hand gripped what looked like a scythe, tinted with a violet glow and blood. The man had electric blond hair in a topknot, vibrant green eyes narrowed at her. And she knew—she knew this man could only be—"If you come quietly, your child will be unharmed."
"AYAME!" Yumi screamed, holding her sons tightly to herself. Nagaoka stood in front of them, arms wide. Raiden was the only shinobi among them. This was bad.
This was very bad.
Forcing herself, and devoid of any idea that could keep her friends and family safe, Ayame reached for the man's hand.
Raiden took a step forward. "Matsu, please don't. I know what you're doing."
"I suggest you not move a muscle, Raiden."
The killing intent was palpable. Ayame swayed, suffocated. Her hand trembled in the air.
"Please!" Raiden was desperate. Ayame felt like she was hovering above herself.
"You've cost me my livelihood." His luminescent eyes slid to where Raiden stood. Should she make a run for it now that the assailant's attention was on Raiden? Walking was already a task this far along in the pregnancy.
"I know—just take me." Raiden very slowly brought his arms out in a nonthreatening gesture. "Leave these people alone."
Matsu's hand lowered an inch away from Ayame's before she could touch its eerie shine. He moved it away to fall at his side. "You'll come willingly then?"
"Yes."
"You leave the sanctuary of Konohagakure by your own volition?"
"Yes!"
"Activate your summoning."
Raiden slowly formed a hand sign. "How do I know you won't harm them?"
"You don't."
Raiden closed his eyes, wrought with defeat.
"Rai….d-deh" a slurred voice erupted from Haruhi's mouth. She was near hyperventilating, on all fours but her gaze was to her friend, the man who rescued her from a terrible life. Her hero and guardian. Aoi, frozen, clung to Haruhi's raging child. His soothing soft words went ignored.
Raiden released a shaky breath, and then vanished in a puff of smoke. Ayame became faint when Yugao gurgled something from the ground. It sounded a lot like 'run.'
"Very good. Before I go—" Their attacker extended a glowing hand towards Ayame again despite his words to Raiden. "I'll take care of his woman as he took care of mine. Isn't that right, Haru-chan?"
Many in their group shouted. Above all the protests, Ayame clearly heard a mutilated sound release itself from deep within Haruhi's chest cavity. It was a strangled noise of utter rage, a sound that was strictly associated to the deaf community. Haruhi ran towards the man. He only lifted a foot and planted it on her chest, sending her spiraling back several feet.
Ayame's world titled.
She went left while their assailant veered right. One moment, a madman was assaulting her and her loved ones, and then the next, she was in Kakashi's arms.
One need not be a Chamber—to be Haunted—
One need not be a House—
The Brain has Corridors—surpassing
Material Place—
Emily Dickinson, Stanza I of 'One need not be a Chamber to be Haunted'
