"Is something bothering you?"
She was touched. Truly. It made her heart leap in a way she didn't think possible to hear these words from Kenji. Though he didn't look at her as he said them, or even give any inclination at all that it was she whom he was speaking to, Nhamo was still touched. She didn't respond though, instead continuing to idly twirl a kunai about her finger. There was silence through the training grounds as Kenji waited patiently. He had patience. Tons of it. And he'd discovered, over the past couple of weeks, and even more so over the past two days, that no matter what Nhamo's initial reaction was to any sort of question or comment, given time, she'd always come around.
"Sort of."
Bingo. Kenji deftly hid the smirk threatening to take over his face as he settled into a sitting position at the base of a thick-trunked tree, patting the ground beside him. Nhamo blushed lightly, but grinned at the gesture and fired the kunai at a distanced target, which was already riddled with weaponry. Her aim was…inconsistent, to say the least. That she'd need to work on.
But he'd rip her for that later.
Right now he'd play the role of supportive teammate. Because that was what she needed.
"Wanna talk about it?" He asked as she sat beside him, leaning back against the tree with a sigh. He took this opportunity to inspect her face. Her features were sharp and angular, but instead of appearing harsh, she had a certain softness about her. Her hair was a simple brown. Distinctly he remembered a girl or two in their academy class making fun of Nhamo's hair, for it was forever tangled, cut awkwardly, and just all around unflattering. Not that he cared. He found the ruggedness far more appealing than the girls who spent hours spraying, frying, and dying their hair to perfection. What was the point?
She shrugged, fiddling idly with the draw strings of her sweatshirt, staring downward at the ground. Once again he waited, feeling her growing fidgety beside him, wrestling with her self. He inspected his nails, just to have something to do other than think about what it might be that was bothering her. He'd just wait for her to tell him.
And finally, with an over dramatized sigh, she did.
"It's just that I haven't found my niche yet." She complained, tilting her chin back to stare up at the sky, "You're a Hyuuga and Roku's an Uchiha." Not that he'd been around much recently. True, today was Friday, the one day of the week that Anko-sensei gave them to their selves while she worked with an ANBU squad. But they hadn't seen hide or hair of the boy. Mal was out of the hospital by now, so in Kenji's opinion, Roku ought to be training with his teammates.
"And I'm an Inuzuka," She snorted loudly at this, causing Kenji to grin, "Except not really because I can't even be around a dog for very long. I just feel like…I don't bring anything to this team." She glanced at Kenji, as though to see what he thought of this, and was both disappointed and relieved to find him quite expressionless.
"Besides, that Kankuro guy still hasn't left our house. He's really starting to piss me off."
Here Kenji chuckled, and Nhamo tossed him a glare. He shook his head, "Come off it Nhamo-chan. You're just jealous that he's getting more of your father's attention than you are."
Though the kunoichi bristled at the accusation, she didn't deny it.
"Come on." He stood brushing off the seat of his pants and extending a hand to the girl, "I think I know someone we should pay a visit to."
She took his hand, cautiously pulling herself to her feet, "We?"
"I'm not just going to dump you somewhere. You're my training buddy." They grinned at each other, suddenly realizing that they still held onto each other's fingers. They weren't immature about it. There was a slight tint to Kenji's cheeks, and Nhamo flushed heavily, but neither pulled away as though burned. Instead, Kenji began walking, giving Nhamo a gentle tug, and she followed, still holding onto his hand.
Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing Roku wasn't there…
"I didn't mean it Genma-sensei!" Malvika complained loudly, pleading with a high-pitched, whining sort of voice, sentence riddled with gasps and punctuated with a grunt as she pushed herself up for what seemed like the millionth time. What was his problem? She didn't mean to call him a faggot…it just kind of happened! And now she was doing push-ups while Choni and Shikago sparred lazily. All of their sensei's attention was focused on the blonde girl after all.
"It doesn't matter if you meant it, Freckles." She scowled at the nickname, but continued with the push-ups, thin arms shaking, "The point is that you said it."
She muttered obscenities beneath her breath, which only drew a chuckle from her sensei.
"Come off it kid. We both know this is good for you. You don't need to learn any Genjutsu or Ninjutsu right now." Mal peered at him curiously and his brow furrowed slightly as he crouched, voice dropping an octave and quieting in tone as though he were speaking a secret, "You're father spoke to me."
"Which one?" Genma visibly flinched at this.
"Naruto. But he told me all about…" He trailed off and Mal flushed, falling out of her push-up-position to lay on her stomach, burying her face in her arms, "You're body isn't accustomed to so much power, but if you increase your muscle mass, improve your stamina, and all that, you should be able to withstand some of the Kyuubi's power."
He watched her face as she stared forward blankly, not bothering to pick herself up from the ground. He'd seen her Taijutsu before…hell, he'd experienced it firsthand, and had to say that it was the girl's strongest area, probably because she didn't need to have intense control of her chakra to pull it off.
"Really?"
"Really."
"Sweet."
The room was dark, which really made no sense, considering that it was the early afternoon. Why would he willingly sit there, leafing through some dusty old book, drinking in the words until he was drunk with the knowledge he so craved. A few oil lamps lit the room, successfully setting the eerie mood. Why didn't he just flip a light switch?
"The Mangekyou…" He murmured to himself, gently turning the page of hand-written text. What was this? What had he found in the Uchiha clan complex that so enthralled him?
A diary. It was old, judging by the looks of it, but the words were crisp and clear, the name splashed across the cover glaring at him every time he closed or opened the book.
Uchiha Itachi.
Some of this was disturbing, and it unnerved Roku to no end that a man who had very nearly murdered his sister had written the pages and pages of observations, thoughts, comments, and fact he found within the pages. He was suspicious of the book…why was it that upon opening his underwear drawer, as he had done at least once a day for almost his entire life, he suddenly found something he had never noticed before tucked into the back of it? The book seemed…evil. And yet, he couldn't help but be attracted to it. Like a mutual connection. The Itachi who wrote this book lusted after power, power he didn't understand how to achieve.
There was page after page about this Mangekyou Sharingan…Roku had only ever heard the phrase in passing before, and usually it was accompanied by a shudder or a passing of glances. It was obviously something powerful, and as he continued to read, Roku could feel his own obsession grow.
And then, he gasped.
There, written boldly, was the method of getting the Mangekyou.
To kill your best friend.
Someone who you loved whole-heartedly.
Roku's heart sank.
"Ah…Kenji-kun, what are you doing here?"
The kunoichi eyed the two Genin apprehensively, taking note of their slightly flushed faces, and the fact that they were holding onto each others fingers. Loosely…like their hands had just drifted there…but still. Her dark eyes swept the pair, "Shouldn't you be training?"
"That's what I'm…we're…here fore Ten Ten-sama." Kenji explained, "This is one of my teammates, Inuzuka Nhamo. Nhamo, this is a good friend of my dad's; Ten Ten. May we come in?"
Ten Ten nodded, watching the girl curiously as Kenji led her into her living room. What could they possibly want from her?