I was gooooone so looooong. (I almost broke my no-going-over-one-month-rule omg. Just three days more and I actually would have.) oMg I feel bad. End of the semester shit in school and all, I guess I lost track of how long I hadn't written. Ugh where is this story even going lol. I don't have anything planned for after {sentinels of a childhood long past}. I am so pitiful. Crying. Please enjoy my sad efforts. Merry Christmas by the way. I might have another chapter up by Christmas. 75% of it. Keep your fingers crossed.

{sentinels of a childhood long past}
echoes of sacrifice

A thought crept to the forefront of his mind: "You're the Kyuubi, Uzumaki. It's in you."

Since he was seven, Naruto has known to some extent that he was, in fact, a jailer.

Power of human sacrifice, the winds had whispered to him. Jinchūriki, they hissed, and then the hisses died on his ears, but the echoes never stopped. He would lay in his rickety old bed for days on end, surrounded by confusion and rolling in turmoil. Jinchūriki, what the hell did it mean? And how in the world did that apply it apply to him? Was he a human sacrifice? And even if he was, why was he alive then? And yet, the voices made sure he that somewhat knew that jinchūriki meant that he held something. It wasn't as if they were very sensitive about broaching the topic in the first place.

But he knew that there was something in him—something terrible, because voices that were not of nature's world would haunt his dreams, a single voice of a sinister tenor. Nights of no sleep were spent like that, but then daylight would come and he'd be forced to get up.

He had spent his days in a haze, ostracized and all but mocked for this offstandish behavior. Naruto drifted in some sense, but eventually, clarity was offered to him. After the rain on a particularly early autumn night had washed the dullness away, everything seemed eerily quiet and considerably sharpened as he was struck by a sudden gust of inspiration. Jinchūriki, the puddles whispered. Jinchūriki. Power. Sacrifice. Then all the glares made sense to him. It was a very sudden revelation, like a smack to his head, and he realized that those glares meant something. Foxes with nine lashing tails, the grasses hummed, though he didn't know what they meant. Naruto more or less forgot about the fox soon enough. You're the power of sacrifice, gaki. If one asked, he could respond with utmost detail the day he realized that this jinchūriki thing was why people hated him.

Since then, Naruto realized that whatever this jinchūriki thing had to do with anything, it had an effect on the nature around him. Flowers and plants seemed to bloom quicker whenever he was in the depths of despair about his predicament.

He was a jinchūriki.

A human sacrifice.

Now, five years later as he's toying with a kunai in his apartment and laying on his back, he thinks this—damn, Mizuki—and there's nothing he can really do about it.

Long since resigned to the fact, he went with it.

July 10th

Naruto lay comfortably in the grasses of Training Field 3 while Sasuke was brooding darkly by himself and Sakura was nearby, cooing. Needless to say, all their minds were on a single topic: Kakashi-sensei's perpetual lateness.

Sasuke was utterly incensed at the fact, as was Sakura, and Naruto just couldn't decide if this sort of sensei was totally cool or totally ho-hum at being a sensei. Probably both, he realized.

Naruto closed his eyes and let himself sink into the bed of grass even more, welcoming the whispers of the air and energy around him. He wasn't entirely sure when he had acquired this ability, but for some reason, the natural energy around him spoke. The wind was always the loudest among all, even though it said the least. It was—strangely—the trees that said the most, having weathered through all the elements.. Earth, ever dormant, was willing to trade whispers more often than the rest and water always served to soothe him with it's high-strung bubbling. Fire and lightning crackled merrily in his face with gossipy tales of their pasts when he was near, but confrontations were by far and few.

Wind, his own element, gave him reality.

It was wind that had told him he was a jinchūriki, wind that had assured him things weren't that bad, in the only way that could calm him. Wind that gave him hints. That helped him, tutored him even.

Yet, it talked the least. But that didn't matter.

Somewhere deep inside, Naruto realized that he was probably hearing old spirits of dead people, people that had associated with these elements the most. They told him as much, anyway. He couldn't even be sure that these spirits knew they were talking. For all he knew, the voices could just be imprints left in the world before they transcended to the Pure Land.

For all he knew, he could just be hallucinating.

Either way, it didn't matter to him—as long as the voices were there, he wasn't truly alone.

But he did need to find himself some actual friends that he could see and physically touch.

Team 7 was a good place to start, and after pulling that little bird trick the other day, the mind connection and working together, now it didn't take his birds to figure out that the other two actually liked the prospect of working together, somewhere inside. Sure, Sasuke would deny it to the ends of the earth and Sakura would stutter profusely, no matter how much she loved the adorable animals.

But all was okay, because Uzumaki Naruto had a plan.

And his plans never failed. (Not to date, anyway.)

Naruto raised his right hand to his lips in a half-tiger seal to mask the noise with focused wind energy, and released a three-tone whistle, silent to everyone but himself. Two birds, one light blue and one reddish-pink, flew over to him and perched themselves on either shoulder when he sat up.

He stood and made his way over to where Sasuke and Sakura were with a devilish grin that promised pain, mind set on his goal.

"How 'bout we pull a new one on Kakashi-sensei?" he proposed, when they looked at him in question. Sakura seemed a little hesitant when the words reached her ears, but it was clear that she wanted just as much as Naruto did to prank the late jōnin even further.

Sasuke, pride ever intact, huffed and stared off into another direction, but even Naruto could see a smirk pulled slightly at the corners of his lips.

Kakashi was torn between teaching those kids a lesson and patting each of them on the head twice.

They were smarter than normal genin should have been, which was great. But they were smarter than normal genin should have been, which was not really great. Sasuke and Sakura were both intelligent and had extremely powerful brains, and Naruto just had the sheer abundance of intuitive to make up for his lack.

"Why did I have to get stuck with the evil ones?" he muttered to himself, annoyed and utterly pissed at the fact that he was, once again, dripping wet. How did he not see this coming? The second he popped into existence at the bridge, he got a whole volley of water bullets launched right at him and was drenched before he could even kawarimi. He supposed that he let his guard down, having his eyes closed in a smile and chakra dormant, unsensing.

The blondie was the one who did the handiwork, obviously, while Sakura most likely strategized. Sasuke was there to keep him from escaping with a thin sphere of flame around Kakashi. Needless to say, he was pleased and very not pleased, both at the same time. Ah...the pleasures of ambivalence, he chided to himself. Ambivalence was the last thing shinobi needed.

"Well then, I guess you brats really took this skill evaluation to heart?" he asked lightly in a dangerous tone. Despite his smile, the three brats were very much aware that their sensei was irritated, but they still consistently ignored that. Naruto fell to the floor, clutching his sides in laughter, Sakura kept looking elsewhere while frowning intensely— contradicting the wicked gleam in her eyes, and Sasuke was smirking despite himself.

"My second impression of you guys...you're interestingly annoying." He smiled again, earning a scowl from all three of them simultaneously. "So. Let's get started."

Kakashi pointed at Naruto and motioned for him to stand directly in front of him, and he put Sasuke to Naruto's left and Sakura to the right. It was quite obvious who the leader of the three was, so he stuck to that general notion. The three genin eyed him oddly as their sopping wet sensei stood before them, satisfied gleam in his eye.

"First thing's first. Taijutsu. Uchiha." The Uchiha straightened in attention and narrowed his eyes warily. "You first." Sasuke took a step forward as Naruto and Sakura instinctively moved back. "The rules are simple. You have to keep going for as long as you can and pull out your best taijutsu so I can assess your strengths and weaknesses. No weapons and no chakra allowed. When I say go, you go."

Sasuke scowled in confirmation of understanding and settled into a familiar stance. Aha, Kakashi thought to himself. He could already predict the boy's moves—the Uchiha clan style was the only one Obito had ever used, after all. Kakashi was certain that he could slip by these moves easily, though perhaps not like he could with Obito. Obito— well he Obito a special case. The most special Uchiha of all, he pondered fondly, and tilted his head at the genin before him mockingly.

"Three," Kakashi started, and Sasuke shifted his foot back, extended an arm.

"Two," The boy's eyes squinted in determination when Kakashi adjusted his own standing position, posing a single hand in front of him lazily.

"One," Kakashi suppressed his amusement at Sasuke's obvious frustration.

It was as if an actual cannon exploded the very second Kakashi uttered, "Go."

Sasuke took off and swerved left, reminiscent of the way Obito had always swerved right, and aimed a kick at Kakashi's midsection. Parrying the kick easily, Kakashi flipped the boy sideways, landing him in a plume of dust. Sasuke got right back up and charged again, Uchiha ego and pride wounded, but determined nonetheless.

Oh my, well good luck with that, my dear teammate— and once more, Kakashi defended with all the foresight he had on the Uchiha's fighting style. For some reason—my dear, dear, teammate—he felt like Obito was laughing at him from heaven—never thought you'd have to deal with my style again, huh, baka?

After five more minutes of rather one-sided fighting in that particular vein, Kakashi finally stopped Sasuke in his movements and shoved him back a little.

"Your movements are quick." Sasuke perked up. (Or raised his head little, it really depended on the viewer's sense of sarcasm, Kakashi noted.) "But you need to get quicker." He slumped. "Your fighting style is too predictable to any of those who are familiar with the Uchiha fighting style, so I suggest you integrate some new stuff into it." Kakashi grinned with his classic insufferable grin and a tilt of his head. "Maa, it won't be too easy, but I'm sure you want the extra work." With a scowl, Sasuke returned to the line and sulked. (Not that he would admit it, not for a million years. But he sulked, and that was at least true.) Kakashi was still impressed though; reaction time was snappy and pickup on strategies and forms was already immaculate, despite having no Sharingan at that point. The boy's movements adapted easily and he was extremely nimble, even for an Uchiha. A genius down to the boot.

Next in line—well, Naruto.

Before he could even finish the countdown, Naruto took off like a bullet, surprisingly quick. "Shinobi don't just stand and wait in battles for their opponent to wail on them, sensei! And I'm sure you know that!"

Kakashi barely dodged the kick at the last moment, and swung to the side. He extended his hands out in front of him, and Naruto charged again. He caught Naruto in the shoulder, but the boy swung back, avoiding the obvious follow-up hit easily.

The boy had strange movements, seemingly dodging the hits that he could dodge, but using the "dodge" as an offensive blow by slipping near Kakashi and extending arm or leg, whichever, but each attempt at a blow was unnaturally quick, like sharp blades pushed by wind. Naruto also kept muttering to himself during the spar—odd.

Kakashi was quite surprised at the way Naruto fought—it was sudden, unexpected, unnerving, dramatic, unyielding, unpredictable—swift.

Like the wind.

Kakashi shook the thought out of his head—where did that comparison come from?—as he leapt back from the brief millisecond connection of Naruto's leg to his waist. The dodgy slice movements from earlier progressed into full-on body swerves and attacks with his arms and legs.

From a breeze to blasts of icy gale. The uneven match—Kakashi had far more experience, after all—was quickly called to an end, with Naruto on the floor from a hard blow to the back of his legs.

Kakashi regarded the blond strangely as Sakura moved forward, wary and tentative, sea green eyes trained on him. She set herself into a basic Academy taijutsu position—perfectly formed, exact textbook copy.

Minutes later, it was perfectly clear that Sakura needed work with new taijutsu forms, but her natural strength was unbelievably great, and much potential could be seen in her. Strength like hers, she could become a front-line fighter at this rate.

Kakashi looked from face to face—intrigued onyx eyes to blue ones pulsing with electricity, pupils dilated with adrenaline, to clear green ones, analytical and frenzied in excitement—and grinned evilly, to their utmost horror.

"Say, genjutsu sounds fun, yes?"

Jinchuriki, Naruto had decided, was a nice word.

There was something about it that was ancient and worn—sort of timeless, really—and rich about it. Like it belonged in one of those old legends that told tales of great heroes and their terrible foes, the legendary heroes with their great power and even greater morals. It was the furthest thing from reality, really. Still, there was just something about it, something that made you think of heavy curtains and dusty volumes, mystery enveloped in the folds of time.

No matter how much the dictionary explanation of jinchuriki set Naruto on an edge, the olden tenor behind the term's sound and it's true meaning was, all in all, tragically exquisite.

Somehow, this calmed Naruto a little, no matter how small a comfort and how childish a notion it was that being a jinchūriki could be okay for him just 'cause of the way the word sounded. Just 'cause it was old and ancient and mysterious, and strangely romantic.

Somehow, it made everything okay, especially when it was the sweet tongues of early autumn breezes murmuring the thick, heavy word into his ears.

Kakashi pulled Naruto aside after the genjutsu detection and breaking session. Ninjutsu could be saved for another day when their chakra levels were intact, he supposed. He was about to let him go after Sasuke and Sakura had already disappeared from sight, but there was one more thing he needed to ask.

"You know, I noticed that bird thing the other day, and how you guys suddenly knit yourselves into a team." Naruto's eyebrows knit together as he scrunched up his nose thoughtfully. "What was that, may I ask?"

Naruto stuck his tongue out. "It's a secret, Kakashi-sensei," and he laughed.

"Mind telling me?" Kakashi replied, disgruntled. "I am your sensei."

"Of one day, so far," the blond retorted, and he got to his feet. Naruto eyed Kakashi strangely, before continuing on in the same light tone. "I have this thing with nature, y'know, and it's sort of been my thing since I was little. See, I have these crazy little voices in my head—" and he stopped at Kakashi's expression, then laughed again.

"Voices...in your head?" Kakashi seized up at this. Was the Kyuubi contacting its jailer? Was Naruto taking deals with it? Was that why he was suddenly so fast and elevated in power? His voice was oddly high-pitched when he spoke again. "Like what sort of voices?"

"Oh, well. Nice, I suppose, and really helpful. Kinda whispery, you know, like wind. It is the wind," he said, and he muttered that last part so lightly Kakashi had barely caught it. Naruto smiled widely again before continuing. "They're nature's callings, spirits!" Kakashi suppressed the urge to laugh underneath all his horror.

Naruto looked at him suspiciously. "You—you won't tell anyone, right?"

Kakashi nodded. "I promise."

And Naruto smiled.

Later, as Kakashi was strolling home, head bent down and observing the gravel he stepped on, he realized that he really could not bring himself to break that promise. Naruto's smile—Minato-sensei's smile—kept flashing before his eyes, relentlessly. The large trusting smile, all teeth and gums, blinding and brilliant as the sun—happy.

So absorbed in his thoughts he was, that Kakashi almost didn't notice the innocent grey turtledove sitting on his windowsill—intelligent eyes, gorgeous feathers, and a trusting note tied around its neck.

Naruto knew that he was utterly, utterly stupid for thinking that the villagers could possibly warm up to him after he became a genin. Sure, it meant that he was technically an adult now.

What else? Nothing else.

It's not like the civilians would understand, anyway, what with their odd 16-years-to-be-an-adult rule that is ingrained into their minds. Naruto doesn't understand that, and decides that he's better off not questioning anything about the civilians, just as they don't question the shinobi.

This world was surely twisted, he thought, this world where you wouldn't a real man until you had killed a person, but those that had were shunned and feared for a good portion of time. Where you weren't a true woman until you'd lost it to your enemy, the person you had to interrogate or assassinate, yet those that did were criticized for 'flaunting themselves' and 'being too showy'. In this world he lived, where children were sacrificed to the darker side of humanity and left to fend for themselves when they couldn't pick themselves up again. Was it truly so horrible to remain ignorant but still a child?

Naruto didn't know, but he sure envied the civilians sometimes. The shinobi regarded ignorance so poorly, that he couldn't help but feel ashamed for his thoughts. At the same time, Naruto was sure that many other shinobi thought this too.

He wasn't truly an adult, not yet, not until he had killed a man.

He wasn't sure he wanted to kill a man.

And once he did, if he did, the villagers would somehow find out and they would hate him even more.

Life sucked in general.

As he traipsed through the village, Naruto looked down at his attire, and grimaced at the overly bright orange suit, in all its baggy glory. He'd meant to get rid of this thing some time ago but never got around to it. He looked up, and felt a large smile creep onto his face as his great luck.

A clothing store.

With something that looked absolutely perfect right in the window.

Naruto was just about to walk right into the store without a second thought before he remembered who he was, and that getting denied permission to buy something would certainly not help in this case, and would only waste his time. If he were unlucky, then he could get physically harmed, and Naruto wasn't sure he wanted that.

He closed his eyes and honed in on the golden energy deep within him, drawing in on the signatures of everyone within a mile-radius. Weak chakra signatures, the signatures of civilians, were the only things that appeared, other than the stronger shinobi signatures. There were none near enough to see him though, so he was clear.

Naruto stepped into a shadow and silently performed a henge of a nearby civilian, then went in and claimed his prize.

Hours later, he was still laughing immaturely into his pillow about how easy civilians were to dupe.

Sometimes, Naruto wasn't really sure who he was.

The line between prankingstupidfool and adorablenaturalgenius would blur at times, and Naruto would be left in a state of confusion. The fool was a shield he had put up at a much younger age to deflect attention from his dangerous knowledge, but over time, it became just as much a part of him as the windsongs in his head were.

Throw in the villagers' ostracizing coupled with another sinister voice in his nightmares, and he may as well be the fox too.

Naruto was elated, sure—he passed the sudden teamwork test, his sensei seemed to like them, and Sasuke wasn't so...cold anymore. All seemed to be at peace, and Naruto was utterly content—but not quite.

Ever since he had discovered what he is (human sacrifice, the winds murmured), Naruto had closed himself off by putting up a stupid version of himself—to be ridiculed—because he discovered, that strangely, for some reason, to act like an idiot took away his hurt. The attention, no matter how negative, consoled him and told him that those people hated his behavior because he was stupid, not because he was the bloody container of some monster, some— some thing. (The Kyuubi's powerful, gaki. Do not forget that.) He was still quite cheerful, really. Natural cheer and disposition, all parts of him. An optimistic beam of light. But to be smart and to be genius were two entirely different things, and in the end, he elected the smart way.

(But oh, how the lines blurred.)

But now, he had a team, and he's been in a team for two months since July now. A group of people he'd have to spend time with in close quarters for the majority of his days, for the majority of his lifetime. To hide his prowess (superiority? No, that wasn't it) like this from them was making him tense, which he didn't like. How long could he keep this up anyway? Would he even last a week? They already had an idea of what he could do from the bell test the previous day, so why not drop the bomb on them? (Not superiority he knew, but anomalous.)

(Anomalous was jinchūriki.)
(Jinchūriki was anomalous.)

Naruto knew why he was hesitating—even though he hated to admit this to himself—and in no way did he want to accept this fact. Deep down, he knew that he was still a child, a child that wanted attention without any heed to if it were positive or not. He didn't want to be discovered at first, but later it became clear that he didn't have the choice.

Unfortunately for him, the others of Team 7 had caught on to this much quicker than he had expected.

In truth, it wasn't that much of an outstanding feat, seeing as Naruto was literally the most bipolar being they had seen to be on earth. One moment he would be laughing loudly about some prank and getting whacked in the head by Sakura, but the next he would be sitting in what seemed to be a meditative position and observing the surroundings around him with an uncharacteristically inquisitive, calm demeanor.

Occasionally, on the stormier and windier days, Naruto would take to sitting under a tree, muttering to himself incessantly while moving his hands around in strange, foreign seals. Once, Sasuke had managed to get close enough to hear him, to find that his strange mutterings were fragmented questions and broken-up theorizing.

They were all a little worried about Naruto, and that worry only increased itself when Naruto showed up in something socially acceptable for once. It was like the clothing he had worn when he was younger, really, but the short-sleeved jacket was grey and black instead of orange and blue. Naruto retained his orange pants, insufferably colored though it was, but the cuffs were trimmed and didn't have the same bagginess from being having to be rolled up now. Upon the closer inspection, they were probably another pair because of the more rusty orange shade.

Naruto himself noticed these reactions, and decided that he simply did not care any longer.

If anything, he refused to be rejected—he wanted to be found—yet at the same time—to be cared for—he didn't want to be stupid anymore, especially not to his team.

(But oh, oh, how those lines just blurred.)

August 27th

There's been something that has bothered Naruto for a very long time now.

So, he's a jinchūriki and all, and there's something in him, not quite him, not quite good, but evil. Diluted, potent, evil. Kyuubi. So how did it come to be in him? Sealed, sure, but why had the Yondaime put it in him? Naruto had not dared to complete that thought, and when he was home free from a slew of D-ranks, Naruto finally mustered up the resolve to visit the village's Grand Archive.

As he walked along the path, Naruto smiled at the leaves drifting with the breeze, cushioning the people's footfalls. August was just barely ending, and it was a little more than a week, to exactly two months since Team 7 was formed. To when all the other genin teams were formed also. September 9th. The first flower festival in September to top off the smaller ones throughout the month in the different districts, and by far his favorite.

Naruto didn't consider this botany-obsessed trait of his to be girly, not really, and he took some pride in it instead. He enjoyed the beauty behind flowers, but it was what they symbolised that got him more. An ephemeral, dazzling brilliance of colors, sustained by a life force.

He loved the idea of life of moving, breathing, and basically thriving off of a life force. Life was like this magical thing, and when one was trained to be a shinobi, the magic of a life was appreciated all the more. Too bad I'm a 'sacrifice', after all, he thought bitterly, before shoving the negative thoughts away.

Flowers were life pushed to an enrapturing beauty, so short, but so impacting. Sustaining the cycle in the forests, taking nutrients and supplies and using it to give the good things back. Efficiently brief, flowers were, but they returned every year.

Naruto stopped this pondering upon reaching his destination, plucking a lone leaf out of his hair.

The Grand Archive was a tall building for a building in Konoha. Konoha being discreet and hidden in trees, the village could not afford to have such high structures to defeat the forest's whole purpose in the first place. At four floors and extremely spacey on each, the Grand Archive was indeed large. It was not quite the Konoha Library, nor the Archive Library; the Grand Archive held more organized information, information stacked in such a way that ninjas could find the stuff they needed for a mission or other duties quite easily. History was closely tied into shinobi affairs, and would not be archived in the same fashion as the history files in the Archive Library, or in the same way as the textbooks in the public library.

So, Naruto had expected a challenge at getting into the Grand Archive, since the archive held highly classified information only accessible to the Hokage and his chūnin and jōnin, along with genin had permission from their sensei. But, in actuality, it was incredibly easy to slip past the old curator. After many years of slipping past people, Naruto had expected a larger challenge, but simply going in behind another person was enough to dismiss any attention from him. With a newfound research area to explore, Naruto headed straight for the scrolls and pamphlets that outlined the Yondaime's reign, which were unsurprisingly small in number, given the short time he held office.

Ignoring the small scrolls, Naruto immediately went for the thickest bound-book, which he was certain covered the Yondaime's entire reign instead of small battles, and flipped to the very end, when his life had ended with the fox. He waved his hand to remove the dust from the old tome and took a deep breath, prepared for a revelation.

When Naruto at last comprehended the final sentence twenty minutes later, he was, in short, mindblown.

And he didn't know how to react.

Naruto dropped the book with a thud, hands shaking, and bolted out the archive library, ignoring the old man's yells behind him because in a moment like that, who cared about some old geezer yelling after you for dropping a book?

He ran, ran until he reached a deep area within the forest where no one would be able to bother him or even see him, and came to a stunning revelation as to why the Grand Archive was closed to anyone even mildly within his age group, the genin.

Because this thing-monster-demon that was supposed to be dead—he was told that it was dead—is in him and the Yondaime died sealing it into him. Him. I killed the Yondaime—was the first thought, but the next—why me?

But the one thing that hurt the most, that made everything (I killed the Yondaime), and his whole life (why me?) all the more horrible—

there was no mistaking—

that hair—

the mouth—

those eyes—

that expression when he was serious—

—there was no mistaking the truth for what it was.

Far into the outskirts of the central village and deep in the forest by now, he raced past the new chrysanthemum blooms and the fiery leaves of autumn—the chrysanthemums bloom when the leaves turn red—trying to empty his head of all thoughts. (Watch the flowers bloom, Naruto, the blond man said in his dreams, but he's just another liar now.)

A glint of metal caught his eye, and then he tripped.

August 28th

Sasuke did not know what to think about this team thing.

He was a one-man team, his own person, and he wasn't supposed to rely on others to help him—in fact, they only held him back. But the sudden display of teamwork on the day of the actual genin test was…well, it was certainly more than enough to have Sasuke question his own morals of solitude.

Deep in his gut, he recognized the fact he would have never gotten the jōnin down, had he charged in alone as originally planned. Instead, the job had been ridiculously simple with the other two helping, and when had the dobe gotten so ridiculously strong?

All through the Academy, the idiot had been playing pranks and laughing all too loudly, obnoxious to the core. He had failed the entrance exam twice—no, three times—and had only gotten his headband through circumstances that Sasuke had yet to find out about. While he was so intent on doing everything alone, Naruto had pulled the three together with some ridiculous bird technique and forced them to work together.

And the collaboration technique with wind that Sasuke was now adamantly certain was caused by Naruto, was, put simply, exhilarating. Even when he was so furious and controlled by his anger months ago, the fireball had not even reached half that size. Wind completed what he needed to take down his brother.

But then, Sakura was just as annoying as ever, shrill, high-pitched harpy that she was. And god, the fangirling. She would just not stop at continually asking him if he would like to eat dinner with her, or anything else that would implicate going on a date. Could she not recognize and take a hint when one was given to her?

And Naruto. Strangely capable, sure, but why had he just stopped being capable after the evaluation day? It was like a huge veil just dropped and smothered every last bit of impressive talent in him—in fact, the only thing that was left from that day was his bird thing. Admittedly, they hadn't done much training other than chakra control and genjutsu breaking since evaluation day, but something about him just reeked of clumsiness and everything a shinobi shouldn't be. And he was so insufferably happy and loud all the time.

Yesterday, though, Sasuke had caught Naruto bolting out of the Grand Archive at a breakneck speed and had not even responded when Sasuke called out. There were two things about the whole scene that bothered him—how Naruto was in the Grand Archive, and how he had possessed a look of fear on his face. Never, never, in all the times he had seen Naruto before had he ever seen fear on the boy's face. Not in front of a pissed-off teacher, not in front of the Hokage, Kakashi, any ninja, any spar, any test, anything.

Sasuke shoved the thoughts aside and decided to confront Naruto later.

Problem was, Naruto didn't seem to be showing up.

Sasuke resigned himself to sitting down and sharpening a few of his shuriken while tuning out Sakura, but by the time Kakashi had arrived an hour later, Naruto was still nowhere to be seen and stress levels were running high.

By now, even Sakura was looking a little concerned at the absence of the normally dutiful member in their team. Kakashi's eyes betrayed a more serious undertone to his normal body language—he'd also sensed that Naruto's absence was extremely abnormal, and this fact was conspicuously affecting all of them.

"Say, Sasuke, have you seen Naruto this morning?" inquired Kakashi, amiable speech covering up a grave undertone. Sasuke shook his head and scowled at the ground beneath him. Kakashi turned to her next. "How about you, Sakura?" Sakura jumped at Kakashi's question but also denied any knowledge on the subject.

"Well," he continued, clapping his hands together. "We can always run through some katas before he comes. Academy positions, children! We might be here for a while." Countenance devoid of all expression, Kakashi stuck his hands in his pockets and stared expectantly at the two. Sakura sighed before assuming a stance, and Sasuke followed. They exchanged a glance, both noting the apparent lack of orange porn novels. Over their two months (almost) of being under his tutelage, the lack of his porn meant serious issues were brewing on his mind. Kakashi remained silent and alert, despite the surface attempt at being lazily unconcerned.

It wasn't long before the sound of running steps approached the three.

And there was Naruto, painted dove grey and orange and bright, bright yellow, with an uncharacteristic look of heaviness on him. Sasuke, slightly entranced by this strange sight, ignored the irritating portion of his mind that urged him to kill the boy for being late, while Sakura, to his left, emulated the exact feelings of that suppressed side to him.

Kakashi, Sasuke noted, was genuinely surprised by this sudden arrival.

The stage was captured by silence when Naruto opened his mouth to say something to Kakashi, completely ignoring his teammates behind him.

"Kakashi-sensei, can I ask question? Consider it history trivia?"

Kakashi narrowed his eye and paused, as if to say something, but nodded grimly instead. Naruto, who was looking down at the floor this whole time, at last raised his eyes to his teacher's and pulled out a strange, silver object from his pocket. Sasuke, forced to remain where he was, could not see anything of Naruto or what Naruto was holding, except for his back. Kakashi's eyes widened and all professionalism seemed to fall away. Sasuke grew increasingly frustrated, and he could tell that Sakura was too.

"Well, tell me, sensei. Were my—" he stopped, took a deep breath, recomposed himself, started over. "If you knew my parents, then tell me, were they heroes twelve years ago?"

"I—"

"Please, sensei." An edge of desperation was beginning to show itself in his tone. Kakashi's gray eyes flickered in an indecipherable emotion.

"They…" Kakashi paused, and seemingly forced himself to continue. "They were." Something oddly cold seemed to creep into the air, strangely still. Even the birds in the forest around them seemed to stop singing, the crickets stop chirping.

"I see." Naruto lowered his gaze again, then tilted his head back up. "Is it alright if I take the day to read up on history? I wasn't really good about it in the Academy, and I want to catch up on stuff." If he was trying to inject cheer into his voice, he failed, miserably.

"I'll quiz you tomorrow to make sure you didn't slack." Kakashi, while much more adept at changing his tone, still had a tremor that didn't disappear. With a nod, Naruto, half turned towards Sasuke and Sakura and half turned towards Kakashi, Sasuke could almost swear that he had read the words 'thank you' on his barely-moving lips, and Naruto took off.

Kakashi dismissed the two wordlessly, and they left without much question.

Team 7 didn't meet again for four whole days.