Disclaimer: Recent (manga) events are pretty indicative that we don't own Naruto. With Book 7 coming out in July, we kinda wished we owned Harry Potter—or even a minor share of the profits!—but must sadly confess that all we own is a couple cracked-out ideas and a lot of fun.
Authors' Note: First thanks go to our beta, Phoenix of Eternity, who's saved us time and again from making major fools of ourselves. Thanks also to all of you who've supported us along the way with your encouraging and intelligent reviews. We're sorry this chapter took so long; all we can promise in the future is that we will not let Masks and Shadows die. The conclusion is coming…you may just have to wait a while. Thank you for your patience!
We were very amused at your reactions to the cliff-hanger at the end of the last chapter. (And, admittedly, a little disappointed that nothing else in the chapter seemed worthy of mention.) Here's hoping that we follow up well.
Masks and Shadows
Chapter Nine:
In Which Hinata Hates Her Family and Shikamaru Takes a Stroll
Hinata wasn't sure when she'd ever been so frightened before. The day they'd carried Neji back to Konoha with a hole through his shoulder and his heart barely beating, she'd been desperately worried, but comforted by the knowledge that Konoha's greatest healers could cure any injury. When she stood before the assembled members of the Hyuuga clan to formally renounce her claim to her inheritance, she'd been almost paralyzed by nerves, but her father's calm face had brought a profound relief. When their ANBU team had been included in the force that had crushed the last remaining members of the Akatsuki, she'd barely slept for worrying over her teammates, but she'd had confidence in their strength; when they fought, she felt no fear.
But now… Between Neji's silent shock and the children's stares and the way Professor Snape looked like he was about to kill something as he guided her stumbling cousin to the infirmary bed, everything blended together into a stomach-clenching mass of panic. If it had been her, she knewshe wouldn't have been able to remain so calm. How Neji could, how he could stand seeing nothing and still not despair or lose control… She couldn't understand it. Vision was their life. Without that…
She stood beside his bed, trembling a little as she looked down at his masked face, as fierce and inscrutable as ever. How could he be blind? Nothing looked different, but his breathing was quicker, his muscles tense: the only signs he showed that anything was wrong. She desperately wanted to reach out and pull away the mask, to somehow convince herself that everything would be fine—but then Madam Pomfrey was there, shooing everyone away and taking charge. Hinata was vaguely aware of three children (not children, she reminded herself; they were only a few years younger than her) hovering near the door until Pomfrey's snapping voice sent them scurrying.
"He was struck with Caecare," Snape said in a low voice as the door closed again. "I trust I can leave it to you?"
Pomfrey nodded, her lips pursing as she trailed her green-sparking wand through the air above her patient. "Of course, Severus. Take the children away; I know they'll be right outside the door still."
Snape muttered something under his breath; Hinata wasn't sure she'd have caught it even if his language was one she knew perfectly. But then he was gone, his black cloak billowing around him as he strode towards the door, and she pushed him out of her mind.
Neji was the most important thing, now.
"C-can I help?"
Pomfrey glanced up at her, as if in surprise, and shook her head. "I don't think so, dear. The counter-curse is far too complex." Her words were difficult to follow, but her gentle tone was clear enough. There was nothing Hinata could do.
Neji's masked head shifted a little in the pillow at Hinata's voice. His breathing didn't change, but Hinata could see the tightening muscles in his neck. Was he frightened? Or in pain? She knew he wouldn't say anything, either way.
"I'm going to take the curse off you now," Madam Pomfrey said slowly and carefully, bending down over Neji. He did not move. "You'll have to remove your mask."
The tense muscles in Neji's throat went even tighter; his rising chest stilled, as if he'd caught his breath. Hinata felt her own breath freeze in her throat. She hadn't thought of that, hadn't realized. No one was supposed to know; they would break their cover, and the manji would be—
The manji.
His seal, the damning Hyuuga curse seal. It reacted to threats against the Byukugan, and if Neji was without sight, if this woman were to use chakra or magic or whatever she wanted to call it, against him…
"You can not," she heard herself whisper in a soft, trembling voice. Pomfrey glanced up, puzzled and a little irritated, but Hinata ignored the disapproval in the woman's eyes. Neji was her cousin and her teammate, and his survival mattered far, far more than what the woman thought. "You will hurt him if you do anything."
"I hardly think so, child," the older woman said, frowning. "I've been removing curses since before either of you were out of nappies. This isn't one we commonly face here at the school, but I still know how to deal with it."
Hinata shook her head. No matter how Pomfrey felt, she couldn't back down. She absolutely could not let Pomfrey do anything to Neji until Hinata could find out whether or not the manji would react. Her certainty gave her voice strength. "Please. I need check something first."
The medi-witch's lips pursed; Hinata fully expected another refusal. She tensed, gathering her chakra—but then Pomfrey nodded at her and took a step back.
"I'll give you five minutes," she said in a slightly gentler tone. "The longer we wait on this, the worse it'll be for him."
Hinata nodded quickly. She would have agreed to almost anything for just a few seconds alone with Neji. All the same, she waited until the older woman had retreated a few more steps before she bent over Neji's bed.
"Neji-niisan," she whispered to him in their own language, feeling her own eyes burn and silently cursing them. "Is the seal…?"
He didn't speak, but he shook his head just the littlest fraction. Hinata let her breath out in a relieved sigh and glanced back at Pomfrey. Maybe…maybe things would be all right.
Still, though.
"Their medic is going to heal your eyes," she continued, still whispering. "I'll make sure nothing happens, though. I'll be standing right here." She wished she sounded more confident than she felt, but right now they really didn't have the time to be very cautious. The family curse seal could flare up at any moment, and Pomfrey had said they had limited time.
She stepped back slowly and nodded to the older woman. "Please do not remove mask," she said softly. "I know his people. Just fix."
This would work out fine. Their mission wouldn't be in jeopardy (as long as she worked out a way to explain her obvious connection to the guards) and Neji's eyes would be fine and everything would turn out okay. Naruto would tease them about this, when they were back in their rooms, and Shikamaru would demand irritably if just one of them could keep out of trouble for just one day. And in the quiet of the early morning before Naruto and Shikamaru had tumbled out of bed, Neji would, hesitant and a little awkward, say Thank you.
She wished it didn't feel like she was just telling herself that.
Pomfrey nodded briskly and flicked her wand, calling out another of her strange-sounding spells. Hinata held her breath, turned her back for half a moment, and called up the Byakugan as the medi-witch directed a thin beam of yellow light at Neji's mask. He seemed okay; Pomfrey wasn't having proble—
Neji's scream of sheer agony froze her blood. She was at his side within another heartbeat, chakra-bright hands cupping his head, voice raw as she shrieked for Pomfrey to stop. Something had gone wrong—the seal!
He didn't stop screaming and thrashing even after the medi-witch stumbled back, and it took everything Hinata had to calm him. She could see and feel his chakra roiling; it stung when it collided with hers. But she had to get it steady, had to stop the seal's activation no matter what.
Her father had taught her how to initiate and how to counteract the family curse seal, something she had always thought she would never need to know. Even when she was still Heir, she knew she would never make use of the attack. She couldn't remember what had happened that day when she was three, but she did remember what Neji had once been like, what the memory of that day had done to him. What her family had done to itself.
Right now, however, she was infinitely grateful for her father's lessons. Once she'd somewhat settled Neji's chakra, she pulled her hands away and quickly performed the seals. With the control jutsu cast, she glanced over at Pomfrey. "Please, now!"
It was beyond difficult, holding back the seal as the other woman cast her spell again and set to work. The curse seal writhed, fighting against her control with a strength Hinata had never guessed it had. And all the while Neji was in pain, still thrashing, head still thrown back with the screams he somehow suppressed. Hinata was glad for that; his throat would be sore enough as it was.
Pomfrey stepped away at last, and Neji's thrashing stopped as soon as it had started. Hinata dropped the hand seal she'd been holding as she heard Pomfrey head over to the cabinets in which she kept her medicines. "Niisan?" she whispered, leaning down over him again. A cold knot formed in her stomach as she stared at his silent, hawk-faced mask. The Hyuuga curse seal could do worse, in any shinobi's opinion, than kill. Better for Neji to be dead than to be left comatose, brain-fried and useless.
Neji would think that way, at least.
"Niisan, please answer me!"
"Give him space, child." Pomfrey tugged at Hinata's elbow chidingly. When Hinata opened her mouth to protest, the old witch just shook her head and towed her farther from the bed. "I'll let you know how he is. And I won't remove the mask."
"But—"
"Go and rest. You've done what you can; leave the rest to me now." She guided Hinata to the door, letting her go only once the young woman relaxed and let her eyes leave her silent cousin. "I will let you know. Now go."
Hinata didn't have much choice in the matter. Pomfrey was right, after all. For all the strangeness of her magic, she was a formidable medic, and now that Hinata had stabilized the curse seal she could do nothing more to help Neji that Pomfrey couldn't do better. Besides, Hinata already had to explain her strange connection with the masked guard, and Madame Pomfrey wasn't privy to the secret of their mission here. If Hinata made a scene she would only draw more suspicion.
"I understand," she said at last, bowing her head in a picture of humility. When she looked up, Pomfrey was already shutting the door. Hinata waited only a moment, listening for a cry she didn't hear, before she set her jaw and translocated to their rooms as quickly as she could form the seals.
The others had to know.
-
The others, unfortunately, were still within the Forbidden Forest, traveling at a gruelingly slow pace beside the enormous groundskeeper Hagrid. Shikamaru could feel the day being eaten away, and he knew that they were an easy target for any enemies keeping pace or preparing an ambush. But the groundskeeper knew these woods and knew the land, and so logic dicated that they had to follow him—at least until they knew the area well enough to search successfully on their own.
It didn't make the slow pace grate any less, but there was nothing he could do. At least the rain had stopped.
Naruto, on the other hand, wasn't taking things so well in stride. He wasn't muttering—unusual, for the blond—but his tight shoulders and tense muscles said more than words possibly could. For once Shikamaru couldn't blame him.
"He's taking us in circles," Naruto whispered after a little over an hour. He scratched beneath his jaw and kicked at a thorny shrub. "There's no way we haven't been here before."
"And you don't know this forest," Shikamaru reminded him in exasperation. If his partner had just stayed quiet this trip might have continued to be almost-endurable. But with Naruto, asking for silence was usually asking for the impossible, especially if the other ninja was bored or didn't feel he was being challenged. "We have to trust him."
"He can't even speak a language! Any language!"
"That's inaccurate," Shikamaru said, trying very hard not to sigh, "and he's the only guide we have. If you'd managed anything in searching the forest on your own, we might not have to rely on him. As it is, we can't be picky if we want to finish this mission within a decent amount of time."
"It still sucks," Naruto mumbled. But he put his attention back where it belonged, on the path beneath them and the dripping woods around them, and didn't say anything else. He could concentrate when it was necessary, although lately Shikamaru found those moments to be much too few and far between.
They spent another tedious half-hour picking their way through the forest before Hagrid suddenly stopped, swung to the left, and rushed through the bushes. Branches snapped alarmingly in his wake. Naruto and Shikamaru darted after him, the blond already readying chakra in his hand while Shikamaru palmed some kunai.
No enemy ninja or renegade wizard waited for them, but Shikamaru's muscles tensed as much as if he'd seen Uchiha Sasuke standing in the shrubbery. From Naruto's stance, it was something he was much more likely to attack. But Hagrid didn't seem fazed at all, crooning softly as he hunkered down next to the strange creature lying on the ground with its gashed leg oozing blood. After a moment the two ninja lowered their guard. The chakra swirling around Naruto's fingertips dissipated slowly as his deer-masked partner returned the kunai to their holster. They exchanged wary glances.
At any other time Shikamaru would have been happy to let Naruto take over with a barrage of questions—but Hagrid's thick accent and the blond's limited English made their attempts at conversation just so much gibberish. Shikamaru himself stepped closer as he dropped his last kunai in its holster. "What is that?"
Hagrid looked up, startled. His black eyes flicked over the two ninja in surprise; then he made a growling noise of comprehension. "'Course ye'd see 'em," he said softly, apparently to himself; he raised his voice a moment later. "This's a thestral."
"…A tasutar?"
Either Hagrid didn't hear Naruto's question, or he chose to ignore it as he turned his attention back to the injured animal. It looked like a type of horse to Shikamaru, but he couldn't make sense of this creature: shining white eyes, leather wings, a jet-black skeletal body. The face and neck looked wrong for a horse as well, almost lizardish and far too wild to belong to any equine. Shikamaru didn't like the animal at all. Something about it didn't feel safe—and it wasn't just the blood.
"They're magic," Hagrid announced, almost as if he could understand Shikamaru's silent question. He stroked the beast's neck, and the ugly head lifted a little at his touch. "Only see 'em if ye've seen death. Beautiful creatures they are."
In Hagrid's eyes, perhaps; Shikamaru wasn't one to judge. He frowned behind his mask and focused his attention on the wound. At least that was something familiar to him.
From the long, savage gash down the thestral's left hind leg, it had obviously been attacked; there were no sharp branches anywhere close by that it could have stumbled against, and the cut was much too clean to have been inflicted by anything dull or jagged. But why would something attack only the leg? A wild animal would try to stay out of range of those dangerous hooves, and a hunter would go for a killing blow.
So why had they missed? And who did the attacking?
"Those missing-nin you killed might not have been alone," Shikamaru whispered to Naruto after a few seconds. His frown deepened. Naruto's encounter in the castle's halls had left him with a bad feeling. He had trouble believing those were the only enemy ninja they would face, especially given the information Neji had obtained. No further attacks had been made since the disastrous attempt last week, but their absence only made Shikamaru uneasy. What was their enemy waiting for?
"You think?" Naruto took a step closer to the animal, kneeling beside Hagrid to inspect the injured leg. "Yeah, it's a deep cut—probably from a kunai. But why only one cut? This thing looks like it could put up a fight, but there's no other wounds."
Hagrid lumbered to his feet before Shikamaru could answer. His beard-shrouded face was darker than the shinobi had ever seen it. "I gotta help 'im. Sorry, but yer tour's gonna end 'ere."
Shikamaru nodded. "Understood."
"Wait, what?" Naruto straightened and looked between the two men, his smirking toad mask matching the curiosity in his voice. "What's going on?"
"He's staying to help the animal." Nara Shikamaru, heir to his family's deer herds, could understand. But really…it would be easiest to kill the creature. Wild animals like this didn't have much of a chance with a wounded leg. Death would be merciful. "We're on our own," he clarified.
Naruto growled low in his throat. "Then this was all just a waste of time? If we're gonna search by ourselves we should've done that from the beginning, like me and Hinata did!"
"It can't be helped." Shikamaru shrugged. Besides, they were in a better position than they'd been; they knew this section of the forest fairly well by now, and Hagrid had already instructed them on a few of its dangers. If they had to, they could just ask the groundskeeper for assistance again at a later time.
The problem with that, though, was that Shikamaru had a nasty feeling that they didn't have much more time.
He turned to Hagrid and bowed his head anyway. "We are going, then," he said in English. "Thank you for helping."
"Sorry," Hagrid apologized, though he barely glanced up to acknowledge their departure. He'd knelt in the leaf mould again and was busily pulling things out of his pockets, presumably searching for bandages. "I gotta take care o' this guy."
Naruto grumbled under his breath, kicked a pile of fallen leaves, and then shrugged. "Ah well. We've still got most of the day ahead of us, and I haven't pulled an all-nighter in a while. It'll be good training, right?"
Shikamaru shrugged again. His partner's rapid mood-swings were occasionally grating, and he privately wondered why Naruto's optimism didn't wear him out—it certainly tired Shikamaru! The constant language switching was exhausting as well, and Shikamaru hadn't slept particularly well last night.
But they were wasting time just standing there. Shikamaru focused his chakra and jumped up into the trees, continuing on the path they'd already begun. They'd lost their guide, but that didn't mean they couldn't continue. As long as he knew which direction the edge of the forest lay, they could search until it was time to end their shift and return to the castle.
It had begun to rain again. Shikamaru resolved to finish this mission as quickly as possible. He had no desire to spend any more time in this country than was absolutely necessary.
-
"Have I ever told you how much I hate detention?"
Neither Harry nor Hermione responded; presumably they were just glad that detention was all Snape could inflict on them for fighting in the hallways, since no one had intended the guard's injury. Well, neither of them had had to spend a night vomiting up slugs onto ancient plaques and then scrubbing them off again! Ron glared across the empty classroom at Malfoy and his cronies, and especially at Professor Snape, who stood at the head of the room.
Snape looked even more unhappy than usual, if that was possible. "Be silent, Weasley," he snapped. "Ten points from Gryffindor."
Ron clenched his teeth against the words he would have loved to say; Hermione's hand was hovering close enough to his leg to pinch him if he'd let any of them slip. But Snape seemed preoccupied; he turned back to Malfoy, speaking in a voice too low for Ron to easily hear. Not that Ron was bothering to listen. Of course Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were going to get off scot-free, and Ron and his friends were going to die; there was no point in hearing what the Potions Master had to say.
Snape was a bloody git like that.
But somewhere Ron must have still had a faint hope of salvation—or perhaps it was just that Harry and Hermione, sitting on either side of him, were so obviously upset. He was good and silent, if a bit fidgety. When Snape finally returned his attention to them, Ron felt like he was about to fall over from the tension. Harry looked like he was going to throw up.
"You three," Snape snarled, not bothering to keep his glare in check. "You will be scrubbing the Owlery." Malfoy sniggered; Snape ignored him. "Without the use of magic."
He seemed to be waiting for the inevitable outburst, but nothing came. Hermione looked a little paler, and Harry a little redder, but they all kept their tongues. Apparently satisfied, Snape finally turned away, beckoning the Slytherin boys to follow him to whatever detention they'd managed to get.
"Bloody git!" Ron muttered once the door slammed behind them. He jumped out of his seat and kicked at the floor, his hands fisted so tightly that his knuckles went white. "That's even worse than the Trophy Room. Nobody's cleaned the Owlery in years! I bet Malfoy and his thugs didn't even get in trouble!"
"Of course they did," Hermione said, although her voice sounded a little strained. She still wasn't very used to the detention thing. "Even Snape can't let them go unpunished. It was Malfoy who cursed the guard."
The guard—Neji. Maybe that was why Hermione sounded so strained. She'd been pretty shaken up afterwards, and even Harry had been unusually quiet. Ron glared at the floor. The long-haired guard wasn't exactly his favorite, but still. He'd been trying to protect them, hadn't he?
"Not that Snape would care about that," Harry said, slipping out of his chair and heading for the door. "He's still pretty mad at them—about what happened last week, I think. Come on. If we hurry, we can stop by the guards' rooms and tell them what happened before we go to the Owlery."
Ron couldn't really argue with that, though he wasn't looking forward to explaining their role in this mess to the guards—and even less to cleaning up owl droppings. This night was going to suck, he could just tell. Nothing could make it better.
Hermione laid her hand on his arm; he glanced down at her, curious. She smiled quickly, still a little pale, and squeezed his arm before hurrying after Harry.
Okay, so maybe some things could make it better.
But no one answered the door of the guards' room, not even when Ron pounded as hard as he could. Harry sighed at last and led them up to the Owlery, promising that his experience cleaning his Muggle relatives' home would make the work go quickly. He seemed a little dismayed by the sight of all they had to do, but he rolled up his robe sleeves and set to work, and Ron had to follow his example.
By dinner-time they were barely half-way done, and Ron was filthy and sweaty and sore from hours spent bent over scrubbing at the floors.
"This really sucks," he muttered for what had to be the twentieth time. It only earned him a stern look from Hermione and an eye roll from Harry. "Well, it does!"
"And you've said so at least a dozen times, Ron." Hermione brushed her sweaty hair from her face with the back of her hand, as it once again fell out of the quick ponytail she'd put it in. "We're quite aware of how you feel about this."
"Yeah, but—"
The sound of footsteps on the stairs silenced him. All three of them turned to look at the stairs. Ron had a brief moment of panic—had he said something shouldn't have? Was it a teacher?—but that quickly subsided once he saw the woman entering the tower.
"Hinata?"
Harry stood, made a futile effort at brushing off his robes, and tried to smile reassuringly at the young woman. She didn't seemed startled to have found them—and for such a slender young woman, who had walked so silently when she was with her fellow guards, her steps had been very loud on the Owlery stairs. She must have walked purposely loud for them to hear.
"Hello." Her voice sounded a little worn, and Ron immediately felt guilty. He hadn't thrown the blinding curse, but he had started the fight. If he'd kept his temper, her cousin would be all right.
She didn't seem to know of his part in the fight, though. She glanced over him without accusation in her eyes as she looked around the filthy Owlery, its bedraggled cleaners, and its perches filled with annoyed owls. "You are being punish?"
"For the fight," Harry said. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but he bit his lip and settled for looking miserable instead.
"Ah." Hinata stepped past them, moving towards a window to stare at the rain falling outside. "You will finish soon?"
"Hopefully," Hermione said in a small voice. "We have class in the morning."
Ron almost groaned. So what that what she was all tense about? Leave it to Hermione to be thinking about schoolwork!
"I see." If Hinata was disturbed by Hermione's fixation on school, she didn't show it. She didn't actually seem to be paying much attention to the conversation at all. She rose onto her toes, staring out the window as though searching for something.
Harry cleared his throat. "So, uh…He's gonna be okay, right?"
The guard didn't respond for a moment; Ron wondered if she'd understood or even heard the question. But right as Hermione opened her mouth, looking like she was going to repeat what Harry had asked, Hinata turned to look at them. Her face was calm, sweet, and as shuttered as if she'd donned the mouse-faced mask.
"He will be fine. Thank you for concern." She smiled slightly and then turned to look back out the window, her attention obviously elsewhere. Maybe Neji was a subject she didn't want to talk about. Ron could understand that; if one of his family members had been injured, or any of his friends, he wouldn't want to talk about it either. Whatever the reason, Hinata continued staring out into the rain for a few more moments before she turned back to the door.
"I leave you to work. Good night."
The door whispered close behind her. Ron waited until her footsteps were almost fading away before he glanced at his friends.
"Did anyone else find that weird?"
"Something's not right," Hermione agreed, frowning. "There wasn't really any reason for her to come up here. If she was looking for us, she certainly didn't do anything about it."
"So let's find out why!" Ron set off for the stairs, but Hermione's hand on his arm tugged him back. "What?" he demanded. "We can finish this later, can't we?"
Hermione shook her head. When Ron looked to Harry for support, he received only one of those "don't be stupid" looks that Hermione had so often given them over the course of their friendship. Harry wasn't supposed to be wearing that look—he was supposed to be on Ron's side!
"There won't be later, and you know it," Hermione said coolly. "I personally don't want extra detention added onto tonight."
"Yeah, but—"
"We still have time," Harry said. He glanced significantly in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. "And we have the map. It won't be hard to find her."
Ron sighed, but they had him. "Brilliant," he muttered, picking up his scrubbing brush and getting back to work. And if he happened to use a little magic, well… It wasn't like he hadn't done most of the work by hand.
-
Jiraiya rather liked Madame Rosmerta's pub. The food was good, the liquor better, and the information best. He'd managed to pick up quite a few tidbits about the so-called Death Eaters and their leader, as well as random gossip about the area: types of people, types of work, the things that made their little world tick. Even something about a shack that cried and giant spiders living in closets. Now it was just a matter of processing what was true and what was exaggeration—and waiting for the right moment.
Such as the kids finding the bijuu (best option) or some good information on it (do-able).
He was relaxing in his usual table, enjoying a nice Firewhiskey at the end of a long day and formulating some good scenes for his next book—exotic girls and far-away locales were a sure-fire combination for a best-seller, and some of these witchy women definitely deserved his writing prowess—when a very distinctive 'poof' caught his ears from the street just outside, coupled with a very familiar chakra signature.
Jiraiya sighed, closed his notebook, and dropped a few coins on the table. His research on his next great novel would just have to wait. Naruto had sent a messenger, and Jiraiya had a sinking feeling that it wasn't bearing good news.