Top of the Tree
V
Spring ended, summer rolled in, and before I knew it, autumn approached along with cold, but bearable, winds and the falling of enflamed leaves. The days grew shorter, people adopted warmer clothes, and a shadow crept across the land bringing in its wake the eventual winter.
The news of a new arrival to the Sarutobi clan spread like wild-fire in a dry Savanna landscape. By early September our house was overflowing with gifts, cards, and flowers congratulating the ecstatic family on the new addition—even though said addition was, technically, still yet to come.
Mom took her leave from work only a day before labor, and thus she literally stepped out of the building at 11:59pm, only to have her water break right outside the hospital and to have to step back into said building a minute later at 12:00am. Hiruzen seemed to be as excited and thrilled as Hiro, but I couldn't reciprocate said feelings; I only felt a sense of dread creep through my gut as the days approached—an impending doom, if you will.
The watching coming from the shadows had but subsided since the earlier months, and my paranoia only seemed to increase by the minute—not even the arrival of the much-anticipated Asuma made my tense little muscles relax. I spent too many hours worrying and not enough sleeping—I was getting sloppy with exhaustion, and that wasn't something I could afford, after all, I was living in a world where ninja roamed the land, and the dead could be revived. It would only take one slip to fall flat on my face and break my mask.
Not only was the birth of my little brother coming, but so was the month in which I'd complete my three years of life. After that, it'd be completely justifiable to start my ninja training (I mean, Kakashi graduated the academy at five!), and I couldn't help but feel worry sweep into the very core of my being. My age—my safety net—would be shredded into pieces, and then I'd free fall—into the hands of terrible people.
Hiruzen, Hiro and I sat in the waiting room of Konoha's hospital anxiously waiting for news on Mom and little Asuma. Hiruzen seemed to count the amount of cracks in the ceiling, and Hiro bounced on his seat to the point in which I though I'd heard a snap coming from the chair. I sat passively in my seat attempting to read a children's book to no avail—no matter how hard I tried, I was simply rubbish at understanding the little lines that formed words. Even in my old life it took me a while to learn how to read—and only when I was much older did I actually start liking it.
Tsunade would be delivering my little brother, so I wasn't at all worried, not to mention I already knew what would happen to Mom and Asuma; they'd make it out alright, though I couldn't say the same about Hiruzen and Hiro.
After five hours of labor, Tsunade walked in, removing her gloves and mask. She gave us an exhausted, but relieved smile, which was all we needed to know that the delivery was successful. We took no time into getting into the room to meet little Asuma, though by then we didn't have a name for him yet.
He was a pink, wrinkled little thing. Can't say he'd gotten my beauty genes—kidding, I had yet to gaze upon a mirror and see what I looked like; I was a little scared to do so, I mean, what if I was just as ugly as Asuma? Anyway, Asuma looked like any newborn: ugly with a patch of black hair—if he were born bald I would put him in an entirely new ugly category. Since I was the shortest, I was allowed to stay on the bed, and thus gaining a better glimpse at my little brother.
Hiruzen approached Mom and kissed her on the forehead and muttered, "Well done, sweetheart".
It was endearing, until she answered, "Do this to me again, and you die".
I think Hiro's face was the best though, because it was a look of disappointment, as if saying 'that's it?' Poor guy thought that all babies were born as cute as me. I suppose he'd eventually grow accustomed to Asuma.
Hiruzen cleared his throat, "What shall we name him?"
"Jiro?" said an unsure Hiro.
"Shuu," said Mom.
I snorted.
'Responsible?'
No way.
"Hama,"
"No, Etsuo,"
"How about Haru?"
And so it went on and on, until I lost my patience and stated that his name would be, "Asuma".
It was decided.
Night fell; the entire family was huddled in the hospital room sleeping soundly—Hiro and I slept on the couch, Hiruzen slept on a chair near the bed, Mom slept on her bed and little Asuma slept in the crib.
I woke up with a startle and looked in my surroundings; it was dark but there was a gap in the curtains that let the moonlight escape into the room.
I spotted some tiny hands waving randomly in the crib, and decided to approach it.
Asuma was awake.
I pushed an empty chair closer to the crib, trying my best not to wake anyone; I got on it, and peered down as Asuma's little form. He looked up to me with his blue-grey eyes that all newborn babies seemed to have, and let out a small whine.
A smile crept across my face, and I grabbed one of his hands that seemed suspended in the air.
His hands were surprisingly smooth, soft and chubby—it made me want to bite it.
I started humming some sort of tune, and he rapidly fell asleep.
He seemed so peaceful—innocent.
A frown took over my smile—it wouldn't last long.
I leaned forward and kissed his forehead.
"I'll do my best to protect you," I whispered in his ear.
Mom spent the next week in the hospital with Asuma; seeing that she had yet to recover, and Asuma was deemed a tad too small, the doctors wanted to keep an eye on him.
Earlier in the summer Hiro had graduated from the academy at a proud age of eight. We had a quiet familiar celebration—seeing that it wasn't safe to invite too many people to the house while Mom was pregnant, not to mention my own sad current state of affairs. He soon began doing D-rank missions like running errands and such, but it was two days after Asuma's birth that his team would get their first C-rank mission—one out of the village, at that.
So Mom and Asuma were away in the hospital, and Hiro was out on a mission, leaving Hiruzen and me alone that night.
That is, until an alarm rang out through the village, and Hiruzen ran out the doors.
He forgot me.
He left me alone in a big, dark house.
Me.
An almost three-year-old.
Dumbass.
I knew the man could be careless, but I didn't think he could be stupid too, I mean, who in their right mind leaves a baby alone? What parent would forget their child? What work is important than me?
I'd never felt so small and insignificant.
And that's when the feeling of an impending doom kicked in.
I was in the dark living room—being too short to reach the switch to turn on the lights—when I heard a shuffling noise in the bushes outside the window. Then I heard footsteps, until the front door opened. I never felt any chakra, which was weird, to begin with—since, y'know, all living things supposedly have chakra.
Being the smart little baby I was, I hid in a dark corner just next to the sofa. I placed my hands over my mouth to muffle my breathing, and retracted as in to the wall as I could. If it was an enemy—I didn't recognize the chakra signature—I couldn't outrun, I could definitely outsmart them by hiding underneath their noses.
I waited.
There were hushed whispers and more footsteps.
They got closer
And closer.
Until they stopped.
Right in front of me.
I felt dread creep down my lungs and landed at the pit of my stomach.
I let out a shaky breath from under my mouth.
My eyes shut tightly.
Shit.
I never left the dark, it seemed, because I woke up out of, what seemed to be, a daze—or maybe it was forced sleep; they, whoever they were, probably knocked me out—in the familiar presence of darkness, for what felt like an eternity—it actually vaguely reminded me of that time I was in Mom's womb. There was something on my face, because breathing didn't come out easily. I was surrounded by hot air of nothingness.
I couldn't move, by hands and feet were bound, my voice was muffled—all I could muster was a pathetic whimper.
I was cold—thirsty—hungry—dizzy—confused—sleepy—and lonely.
But most of all, I was afraid.
And fear was not something I was accustomed to feeling (I mean sure, there's the fear you feel when you almost hit another car with your own, but not fear that you feel when you're in a life or death situation, not the fear ruining a second chance at life). It was a foreign feeling, and I hated it; it made me doubt myself, and I couldn't feel such way in the situation I'd found myself in.
Hearing a shuffle of movement a few feet away from me, I stilled.
The question was: should I pretend to still be sleeping, or attempt to talk to the enemy, or whoever was there with me.
I wasn't able to continue my thought process, because the potato sack I seemed to be wearing on my head was yanked off me with a fast and unexpected movement that made me yelp in surprise.
"Well boys, it looks like the little princess is awake!" said a fake cheerful, female voice.
I heard some chuckles in the background.
I stayed silent.
"Look here kid, we're not here to hurt you," I snorted, "but if you're not cooperative—you know what cooperative means, yes? —We'll be forced to get a little rough".
Huh, talk about déjà vu.
I mean, really!
I just stared back of the figure—I couldn't make much of it because of the dim lighting of whatever the hell were in, but I could tell it was a female, probably a konoichi talking.
"Sweetie, we only want to ask a few questions,"
They only wanted to ask a few questions? Really?
"I-I don't k-know anything!" I stuttered in fear, embarrassing, by the way, I mean, after ten years on the duty you'd think that I could talk to my enemies with a straight face.
"Kid, if you answer our questions you'll be home by no time!"
Somehow I didn't believe a word that was said. But I did contemplate in telling these guys whatever they wanted. I mean, sure I could do some tricks, but I still had the body of a toddler at the end of the day—hardly suitable to take on four enemy ninja. But my stubbornness struck, as did my sense of loyalty. What would the people think of me—what would Dad think of me—if I told these ninjas whatever information they wanted? I'd be thought of as a traitor for the rest of my life—and that being that said life had just begun! I decided that I'd stall—buy some time for my saviors, if there were any.
"What are the questions?" I asked in a quiet tone.
"Have you ever been in your father's office?"
"Yes,"
"Have you ever seen papers with lines on them, and words,"
I looked puzzled for a moment, "you mean maps?
"Yes, maps,"
"No,"
"And what about cylinder-shaped objects made of paper that when you open them there are black squiggles,"
Did they think I was an idiot?
"You mean scrolls?" I asked with a deadpan expression.
"Yes, scrolls,"
I scowled, "All the time,"
"I see,"
There was a bit of an awkward silence that followed.
"What was written on them?"
"I don't know," I answered honestly.
"You don't know? And why would that be?"
"I can't read…"
And for a second I thought I saw them all sweat drop.
The ninjas huddled into a circle and started whispering harshly. I heard one of them question, "isn't she supposed to be a genius?" And another one muttered, "I knew this was a bad idea".
No kidding.
They left me alone for an hour or two to come up with a different approach, or maybe talk to their superiors of the futility of my kidnapping. I mean, I may have information about the future, but that knowledge doesn't stretch far through the Second and Third Wars. Honestly, my information about said subject was minimal to none.
I tried focusing on their chakra signatures, but they seemed a bit foggy. I thought back to my capture and realized that that's how they were able to find me; my hiding spot wasn't obvious, it was my chakra that gave me away—which was rather disappointing and pathetic. I mean, I knew I'd never tried masking my chakra, but it couldn't be that hard, right? I guess the frustration of being in a smaller and unsuitable body irked me.
I felt a flicker, and I looked up. I barely recognized it, but there was a bit of familiarity to said flash that forced me to look into my memories, and think back to where I knew it from. I'm not going to lie; I couldn't put a face to it, but I knew it wasn't harmful.
The next few hours were spent by counting the amount of drops dripping from the ceiling and into a puddle not too far off from my position; my total count was 35,790,543 drops (give or take). I was bored out of my mind, and was lowering myself into counting drops. I'd rather my kidnappers come back in to pester me instead of leaving me alone with nothing but silence.
There was commotion outside—shouts, movement of fabric, the clanging of metal and a weird noise that at the time I wasn't familiar with: the usage of chakra. It didn't last long; it ended with a pained yell and then silence. I waited in silence, secretly hoping that my saviors had come to rescue me, and dreading the arrival of more enemies.
All I could do was wait in suspense.
Ha ha! You might hate me until the next chapter, but I just had to! As you can well see, the sadistic trait Kozue seems to have doesn't come from nothing.
I've been reading your reviews, and you guys have no idea how much it means to me that you're liking my story so far! They really helped me get through this chapter. I decided to move along the plot, because, frankly, I'm getting tired of portraying Kozue as a baby.
I want to remind you that this is fanFICTION and thus, I don't have to write realistically, which is honestly what I've been doing, and I don't regret a word of it; I kind of like the twists and turns that I throw in.
For those who asked where I moved to: that would be Brazil (seeing that it's my home country and all). I've been going to Internet cafe with my green pen-drive to write this new chapter for you guys, so you're welcome.
Anyways, please review, favorite and follow, they always help a ton in the creative process.
CupcakeLoopy