A/N: I'm to lazy to write an authors note. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the characters in it. Yosh.
Chapter 5 - Run For Your Soul!
I tried to think of anything someone as important as the Hokage(or maybe he wasn't actually all that important - maybe I was blowing him out of proportion... but whatever) would want from poor, insignificant little me. My money? My service? My virtue (ACK! EW!)? My soul? Teehee... soul-eating old men...
"I would like you to perform th clone jutsu,"
Oh.
I gave him a hesitant nod and closed my eyes - confused, but willing to do anything that didn't involve soul-eating. I raised my hands to my face and formed the hand-seals (it was still hard for me - I sucked miserably at making them and took to long to finish - but I got by) feeling the Tingle rise up behind my belly-button. That's what I named it, by the way. The Tingle. It sounded cool - like something a creative reporter would name a pandemic. 'blah blah blah is sweeping the nation. Bring all children inside and keep your doors and windows locked at all times. Beware of The Tingle!'
Anyway, the Tingle crawled its way through my veins, pinching a little as it sped up and filled every corner of my body. It was a cool feeling, but if I left it for too long it usually made my limbs numb - which was very inconvenient for training, you can imaging - so I let it circulate for a second, scanning my every cell and making an exact copy. Then, once I could hold it in no more, I let it spill out of me, poofing out in a cloud of grey smoke to my left.
Yeah... I haven't even accomplished proper smoke yet.
But my clones were flawless. Why? Because seeing yourself outside of a mirror - living, breathing, speaking and all - is just insane. Being able to watch and hear myself talk was by far the coolest thing I've ever experienced. I swear the first time I did it I'd just sat there for hours, making myself make all sorts of stupid facial expressions and spout poetry to hear what my voice sounds like. It's not as high as it sounds in my head, believe it or not, and my seductive voice wasn't actually all that bad - but the point is, I could do it. I liked to call her my alter ego - Emma.
Emma bowed formally and I followed her lead, humoring to appreciated my own good manners.
Mr. Hokage stood and walked over to my clone, inspecting her closely and scrutinizing every last detail. He was surprisingly fit for an old man, I realized - that is, not hunched over and drooling on a walker - and it made me nervous having someone with such obvious experience judging my poor little Emma.
"Kaya-San," he said, making my jump a little as I straightened up, "I assume you are informed in specific detail on the shinobi system, correct?"
He turned to me as my clone dispersed, watching me fidget nervously under his gaze. I wouldn't say 'Informed in detail'... more like 'Inadequately sketchy' but the Hokage was assuming, and I had a feeling I shouldn't argue. I nodded energetically.
"I see... it seems you have a good grip on chakra so far... Jiraiya-san trusts you, and as his former sensei I am obligated to trust his judgement- "
"You're Jiraiya's sensei?!" I clapped a hand over my mouth immediately, trying not to picture the old man in front of me with a giddy look on his face, instructing a little Jiraiya and pointing to a chalk-board diagram of the female anatomy.
Mr. Hokage must have had a good idea of what input I was getting - a sweat drop rolled down his forehead and he cleared his throat.
"Yes, I trained Jiraiya as a ninja when he was a genin. No matter, I will admit you into the Hidden Leaf Village as a temporary resident. As for a career as a shinobi... I will need to consult the council. Genin exams were wrapped up a few days ago and the teams have already been assigned..." he turned to Crazy Lady.
"Suka, please arrange Ms. Kaya a temporary residence card and civilian identification," he paced back towards his desk, calling out orders and pulling out a scroll, " Provide her an apartment in the guests unit and have it pre-paid for until such a time she can pay rent. Call Ikati-san and arrange a meeting with the council to discuss further..."
Suddenly I was being pushed out of the room while the Hokage muttered orders throughout the room, tripping as the giant door swung shut behing me and a peice of paper was shoved in my face.
"This is the address to your apartment," barked Crazy Lady barked as she formed familiar hand seals in quick succession. "You will be sent for when the council has decided upon your place-"
"Upon my place? Am I being recruited into some sort of religion-?"
"- and you are to report to the landlord immediately," she sent me one last whithering glare before expertly poofing away, my luggage suspiciously propped up against the wall in her place. I mumbled irately and grabbed my back-pack, taking a peak at the address only to snap my head back up in a panic.
"Ah - hey, wait!" my eyes searched the hall desperately.
"I CAN'T READ JAPANESE!"
So, because I was utterly and hopelessly lost, I took the afternoon to backtrack my steps and observe the town some more, this time focusing more on the people. And there were some strangefreaking people. Strange eyes, strange hair, strange clothes - but all of them seemed relatively nice. I was also in this period of time that I realized something excruciatingly depressing: everyone in this world was amazingly taller than me. Seriously, even the little kids were proportioned in a way that made it obvious I wasn't normal. Everyone just towered above me. It was awful. A few people asked me if I needed help, however, but I - being the fantastically intelligent Queen of Ignorance - politely refused each time and trudged along with as much dignity as I could muster, dragging my bags along and setting an 'of course I know what I'm doing' air around myself. It wasn't until I ended up back at demon-child academy that I finally admitted to myself that I was lost.
I groaned in exhaustion and let the luggage fall over on its side while I plopped down by the fence and threw an arm over my eyes. This was absolutely and completely hopeless, now that I thought about it. I might as well just live in a tree...
I opened my eyes and observed the trees surrounding the field, lifting my head off the ground and sizing up the thick branches.
...Nah.
But it's really either ask for help and admit I can't read (which could, after all, be a fatal weakness as a ninja should anyone find out... okay, that was an excuse) or come up with a creative alternative. Like living in a hole in the floor. Or building myself and evil liar. Out of... leaves... yeah.
"Hey you!"
"Why are you lying on the floor?"
"What's wrong with you?!"
"Come play with uuuusss!"
A little volcano went off in my head as I froze in fear and absorbed the nasally voices of doom.
Demon Children.
I immediately jumped up and made to grab at my bags, but it was too late. A crowd of ridiculously fit looking ninja kids were huddled in a circle around my panicking form, poking and prodding at my dirt-caked body and strange clothes.
I realized just then how dirty I actually was and reached a finger up to my face, swiping a sample of dust and soil off my cheek and internally smacking myself in the head.I'd gone to see the Hokage looking like this?! I must look like a homeless perso-
Oh yeah...
A little girl with spiky orange hair in pigtails scowled at me menacingly for attracting all the attention, "You're weird. I don't like you."
"Yeah, me neither!"
"You're all gross!"
"Hey!" I straightened up indignantly, "I've been training nonstop for, like, a million years! So all you little bastards can just shove it!"
I'm not so great with kids, by the way.
"You're a ninja?" the little red-headed ringleader mocked looked me up and down, intimidating even at her 4'5''. "I don't think so."
I bowed my head and went into a little self-depression. Even a little squirt thinks I'm bad...
"What's in the backpack? Ohhhh!"
My head snapped back up again and I dived over my bags protectively, growling angrily at the hoard of nosy kids.
"None of your business!... friggin' midgets..." I grabbed my things off the floor and scrambled into a standing position, wincing a little at the weight but determined to stay cool, "Nosy little... aren't you all supposed to be, like, chucking lethal weaponry at each other? Get lost and let Big Sister Kaya do her thing."
A little boy with dark brown hair dangling in front of his face stuck out his tongue, "You're not my big sister!"
"She's mean! GET HER!"
"Fuck!" I squeaked, swinging my crap over one shoulder. They all shouted out little demon-kid battle cries as I took off running in a very un-promising direction, about fifteen midgets speeding at my heels.
Situation I Never Thought I'd Be In # 362:
Chased by ninja children through a ninja village, homeless.
And these little bitches were fast too. I turned a sharp corner into an open path with happy shops and market booths lining the road and skidded across the dirt, darting through a very surprised crowd.
"'Scuse me! Pardon me! - ah - WATCH OUT!" I tumbled through a particularly unhappy couple as people separated to make way for the jeering kids. A few minutes went by where I continued to try and shout warnings to the blurred figures and colors in the trampling zone, but I soon gave up and settled for trying to continue surviving.
"Ahh! - Out of the way! Demon Spawn attack!"
I think a few people might have taken me seriously by the looks on their faces, but they were either diving out of the way or standing on the sidelines, shaking their heads in that 'Oh those adventurous young'n's...' way that adults have. Seriously! Did they not see that I was about to die? Or did this sort of thing happen often? Dear lord, I need to get out of this pla-
"Ah!"
I was suddenly sprawled out on top of something annoyingly bright and squishy any my sharply pounding head was pressed up against a big hulk of orange. I took a moment to blink away my disorientation and acknowledge the pained grunt from under my racing heart before gasping and leaping up, taking the orange boy with me.
"Hey! What're you- "
"No time!" I panted, hurriedly wiping off the dirt I'd smeared all over the boy's orange suit. I didn't really take the leisure time to look at his face (let alone ponder why in the world he was wearing an orange suit - in broad sunlight no less) but I had enough sense to take advantage of this new development.
I glanced behind me anxiously, jumped at the fantastically decreasing distance between me and the Demon Kids and grabbed Orange Boy's shoulders, spinning us around so that he was placed in front of me as my human shield.
"Hey! What - ah!" he caught sight of the charging stampede.
"Distract them with your clothes! The Children of the Corn are drawn to bright colors!" I pushed him forward and spun around, taking off again with my luggage jumbling at my sides. I ran for my soul.
"But - ahhhh!"
And I didn't look back as I mourned the loss of such a brave soldier.
It had taken me a whole ten minutes to recuperate from both the run and the mental trauma of my encounter with the Demon Kids before I'd actually crushed my pride into a dark, rotting corner of my mind and started thinking logically - get inside, lock all windows and doors, take a shower. So after finally scrambling up to some obese lady in a park and getting proper directions, I did just that.
It turned out that the guests unit wasn't at all far from the Hokage building in the first place. It was a tall, homey building with a flat roof and lots of windows. Because it was a guest facility, the apartment they gave me was already furnished and fully stalked with foreign food I was afraid to touch. I was really looking forward to a cheeseburger too...
No matter, I stepped out of the shower, finally a squeaky clean I thought I'd never see in a mirror again, and shook the water out of my hair contently, scrunching up my toes on the wooden floor. It was oddly relaxing to be in an unfamiliar place - like being in a hotel or a vacation spot. The air smelled clean and it just eased all the tension away. I didn't bother towel-drying my hair and let it drip onto the floor as I plopped down on the bed on my stomach, marveling at its softness.
Never thought I'd see one of these again! I thought happily.
The evening sky dulled through the bedroom window as I dozed off, never even summoning the energy to get under the covers. My hand dangled lifelessly over the side of the bed as my eyes finally drooped shut, finally overcome with exhaustion.
Of course, however, things never quite work out well for me, so it was by sheer crappy luck that my fingers twitched at the last second and brushed something coarse.
(insert God choir 'aaaaah's) The Backpack that survives everything!
In all honesty, I hadn't gathered the courage to take a peek at what Jiraiya put in the bags he gave me and had dumped them on a coffee table before throwing out my undignified clothes, but I hadn't really thought about what I might still have in my bag. If my cell phone was still there, it would be a fun experiment to see if it worked. I rolled over in my robe grumpily, trying to push the urge out of my mind, but it kept tugging at my brain tendrils and nagging my to check. So, reluctantly, I rolled over the other way and lazily lifted the bag into my lap, rubbing the persistent fog out of my eyes. The black color had long since faded and the rough material was worn and frayed, but it somehow managed to stay in one piece during my years of abuse - I wasn't one to deem it unworthy. I unzipped the first pocket and dumped its contents in front of me, sweeping away some pencil shavings as I examined my things.
It was so strange, seeing ordinary, everyday objects again - pens, my wallet, an old fakr lip-ring I'd used to freak my grandma out once, a ruler - that day I'd left for school like any other morning seemed so long ago, now...
I carefully lifted my four-leaf clover wallet, twisting and turning it delicately in my hands. There were only four dollars in it - four dollars I'd previously reserved for buying myself a frightening-looking lunch - and a business card for a pizza delivery service. I smiled as I recalled calling them and continuously requesting to speak to 'Bob', whom I was 'so sure had said this was his number' and relentlessly insisting that it was his cousin Vinny playing a prank on me. I shook my head and giggled a little. Good times...
A white corner sticking out from one of the pockets caught my eye and I instinctively pulled it out in order to fix the position, freezing when I saw what it was.
Tashi... Grandma... Dad...
It was an old family picture from the year we'd moved to Florida together. The four of us were huddled closely in front of our new townhouse, one of the movers snapping the picture for us as we recorded the first moment of our new 'adventure'. Tashi had been seven then and her round pink face grinned up at the camera, bouncing blond curls spiralling wildly out of her scalp. My nine-year0old self stood next to her timidly, offering a small smile and tugging at my shirt nervously. I recalled not wanting to start a new school and being scared out of my skull that everyone would think I was weird for skipping a grade. Dad stood tall and proud, on the other hand, grinning childishly and waving at the camera, his other hand patting my head and his face tilted to the side playfully. Grandma wasn't looking at the camera, though. She had her trademark distant look look on, staring off into the distance at something only her bright blue eyes could see...
The realization hit me like a brick and I suddenly reeled backwards into the wall, dropping the picture onto the bed and slapping a hand to my mouth. It finally occurred to me - this wasn't some sort of sick sleepover that I would eventually come home from. I was at this second being signed as a resident of this place. I might never leave... I could never get home.
I was suddenly overwhelmingly homesick and had to tighten my grip in order to keep the lump in my throat from spilling out of my tear ducts. What did they all think happened to me? Were they worried? Was I causing them pain? I wanted to shoot myself - I wanted to sob and weep and cry and do all that stupid hysterical crap - but something in me wouldn't allow it. Like if I let any tears fall out it would be some sort of surrender - an admission that this was real.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, only succeeding in drawing in air shakily. I was so confused. How did any of this even happen? Was I just in a coma? No, my hallucinations wouldn't be this organized. I opened my eyes again and continued to stare at the picture, afraid to touch it but afraid to tear my eyes away. I lifted it up carefully after a while and stood on the bed, tucking the side into a tile on the ceiling so that I could look at it until I fell asleep. This way I wouldn't forget...
I ended up taking my pillow and sleeping on the couch that night. The stars really were too bright here.