Ah… inappropriate humor warning?
Chapter 6: Need no sympathy
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God school is boring. This is all easy, kiddy stuff (much learning, wow, so facts). I really wish I had a laptop or a phone or a book, or something. Anything to alleviate the boredom.
Oooh! I could try and make a code so that Naruto and I can converse without words! That'd be fun. We can like, tap codes. Or maybe use sign language. Or body language. (And maybe one day we'll actually be able to talk just by looking at each other.)That'd be so cool. I just need to run it through Naruto when we get home.
But for now I'm still super bored. At the front of the classroom, our teacher what's-his-face drones on, trying to teach a bunch of stupid brats how to do math. Now Timmy, what does three plus five equal? Wait, damn it. No one's named Timmy in this 'verse. Um. Kensuke?
Wow, way to ruin your own attempt at mocking someone. Help. I need adult conversation partners STAT. I think my snark's disappearing. Hard to keep being sarcastic around a kid who takes almost everything you say at face value.
Hmm. Maybe I can teach Naruto the art of being a dick. A smart-mouthed dick. (Be a penis, Naruto. Be a fucking penis. But not a fucking penis. Gross.) Not like an Uchiha. Screw them.
And fuck this shit. This is so boring. So. Boring.
(Monotony days months years learning nothing wasting money wasting wasting away washing away blurring pain bringing pain is pain)
I take a loose sheet of paper and decide to make a paper crane out of it, folding it as carefully as I can with my chubby hands. And then another. And another. And then I make smaller ones because these are too big and the teacher's bound to notice them if I keep piling them next to me. Thank god for these lecture hall-type classrooms; it's easy to hide what I'm doing under the desk (and wow that kinda sounds perverted what the fuck).
Naruto's dozing next to me, so I put some paper cranes on his lap, but my other seatmate (who took the seat very reluctantly. His fault for being late. Not like I want anyone sitting next to me) is giving me the stink eye. I think he's contemplating telling the teacher. So I give him my best, widest smile, and bare my teeth. He flinches away and turns back to look at the front and doesn't dare look at me again.
Huh.
Just how is that threatening? I'm two years younger than him, for Christ's sake! I guess that "Demon Brats" rumor/gossip comes in handy, sometimes.
But god, come on! Let class be over already! Lunch naow! I'm really fucking hungry.
Just as I'm contemplating chucking my paper cranes at people, the bell rings. Naruto shoots up, startled awake, and mumbles, "Huh? Wha?"
"Lunchtime," I reply, stuffing my books and notebooks and paper cranes into my backpack.
"Oh."
Naruto slumps back over the desk, blinking away his tiredness. I roll my eyes at him and toss him his bag, which he'd never bothered unpacking. I don't blame him, though. Everything we're being "taught" is stuff I already know, that Yamori and I taught Naruto. It's actually a bit surprising that much of what we taught him actually stuck (which goes to show how low of an opinion I have of Naruto's intelligence. Though, can you blame me? The Naruto I read about wasn't very smart... which was probably a product of child negligence, the fuckers). But no brother of mine is going to be stupid. Not if I can help it. It's the kind of help and support I used to wish for, the kind canon-Naruto probably never got. But canon-Naruto and my Naruto are two different people, so why the fuck am I even thinking about it.
Pulling Naruto up by his arm, I drag him out of the classroom. We're the last to leave. And the only ones to take our bags with us, but that's because we've learned our lessons. Kids can be absolutely horrible. I've always known this intellectually, but to actually experience it?
The first time we left our bags unattended, we returned to see the contents completely ruined and tossed all over the place. One of our textbooks ended up on the roof. And then we were fined for replacement textbooks, like it's our fault we're surrounded by snot-nosed brats. (I'll kill them the fuckers how dare they screw them.)
Once we're outside, Naruto starts leading the way to our corner of the courtyard. (For some reason, the Academy doesn't have a lunchroom. I say "our corner," but really it's just the only tree we can climb. It gives us a small viewing vantage over everyone else and keeps us out of reach of the goblin-children. Naruto climbs first with me supporting him from underneath, then he reaches down and helps me up. We make ourselves as comfortable as we can get, me deliberately not looking down, because of fucking heights, and open our bento.
Today I made bibim-kimbap, or at least the closest facsimile to it as I can make it this 'verse. Imagine my surprise when I found something similar to gochujang while out grocery shopping. Sadly it's not as spicy as I would like it to be because this body isn't used to spicy foods. I'm also gradually working on getting Naruto to eat more spicy foods, but he doesn't seem to enjoy it as much as I do. Pity.
And sure enough, Naruto lets out a whine. "Spicy food again?"
"Yeah, well yesterday we ate fish because you wanted it, so don't complain." Because I really fucking hate fish.
Luckily this body isn't like my old one, where so many foods made me gag, otherwise I wouldn't be able to eat much. Especially since my cooking skillsare pretty much nonexistent. Unless it's something I've made multiple times Before. Like kimbap. And bibimbap. Hence the bibim-kimbap.
Ugh, just leave me be Korean in this world without Koreans. Half-Korean. Bleh, technicalities. Not that it matters anymore. Since, you know, I died. (And here a roll my eyes at myself.)
Naruto grumbles to himself, but starts to dutifully eat. We sit in blessed silence for a few minutes as we stuff ourselves with our not-spicy-enough food, me willfully ignoring the sounds of children running around nearby. Unfortunately, our peace doesn't last.
Something slams into the tree, making us rock precariously. I grip the tree branch with one hand, my other going out to grab Naruto, which unfortunately leaves my bento unguarded. I mourn its passing as it falls off my lap.
"Augh!"
"Oh no! Michiko!"
I can hear someone, but I ignore them. As soon as we stop shaking, I turn to Naruto.
"Are you okay?"
Except Naruto's peering down, disregarding our close call. I bite back a sigh and look down too. Below us is a group of three girls, all of whom I have never seen before. Two of them are hovering worriedly around the third who has... oh. My bento landed on her. She has seaweed and red grains of rice on her head.
Involuntarily, I let out a snort. Well. At least my food didn't go to complete waste.
One of the girls looks up at my noise, startled, as if just remembering that Naruto and I are here. Like they didn't deliberately come here and what? Kick the tree? Shake it? ...Maybe we should switch to a sturdier tree.
"You!" the girl shouts.
"Yes?" Naruto and I say in stereo in an unplanned in-sync twin-speak. (And I will never think that again.) We look at each other and grin, because that's never happened before, and how cool is that?
The other two girls are staring at us too, now. All three of their faces are red in rage. The girl who's wearing my lunch stomps her foot and points dramatically up at us.
"You! Look what you did!"
"You mean, look at what I did," I correct automatically. "And I'm not the one who did that. It's the fault of whoever made me drop it, because it was either me or my lunch that was going to fall, and it definitely wasn't going to be me. Ergo you. Or one of your posse."
Gradually, their faces turn more and more red. One of the girls, Lefty (the girl on the left), scrunches her face in confusion. Righty adopts a defensive pose. Accidentally, Naruto elbows me, his body shaking from ill-concealed laughter.
Lunch-face stomps her foot again and opens her mouth, but I cut her off before she can say anything. "Did you need something? Or did you just want to show us how much of an obnoxious little snot you are? Because we've got better things to do."
I turn away from them to pull Naruto's and my backpacks off of the branch above us, ignoring the sounds of frustration coming from below us, and hand Naruto his. Naruto looks at me curiously, but I just point down, motioning for him to get down. He jumps down effortlessly, the bastard, while I'm left to scrabble without looking down.
I'm almost completely down when something jerks me backwards, making me fall and land on my backpack. I'm stunned, breathless and in pain, my eyes screwed shut. Fucking hell. Mother fucker! I'll kill that fucking bitch!
There's a shout. "Nee-san!" Sound of flesh hitting flesh, a girl screaming, someone calls out: "Sensei!"
Roll onto my side, curl into a ball (painpainshit that fucking hurts), squint my eyes open. Lunch-face on the ground, screaming, clawing at... Naruto? Naruto, with his hands in Lunch-face's hair, pulling, pulling. Defending me?
"Sensei!" someone shouts again.
Sound of footsteps, running. Toward us. I push myself up, carefully, suck in a deep breath through teeth clenched in pain. Tears sting at the corners of my eyes but I will them away. One of the teachers rush into view, harried face turned murderous as he pulls Naruto off Lunch-face. Naruto detaches with a clump of hair in his hands, snarl on his face. Struggles in the teacher's grip. Lunch-face cries, gets swarmed by Lefty and Righty.
I struggle to my feet, hunched over, back burning in pain. Naruto sees me, renews his struggles to get to me. "Let go!" he shouts. "Nee-san!"
Keeps shouting. A hand goes up to cover his mouth, but Naruto bites it. The teacher lets go of him, cursing. Naruto rushes to me, grips me tight, makes me hiss in pain. He pulls away but keeps a hold on my hand. The teacher marches over to us, steaming. His hand goes up, palm flat and tensed and—
"What is going on here?" Yamori's familiar voice washes over us.
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After a very tense visit to the school nurse, who confirmed I have bruises on my back and that I need to be very careful (like I didn't know that already), with Yamori guarding us, we're sent to the Teacher's Office. Waiting for us is a group of six: our teacher, the teacher who almost slapped Naruto (the fucker), the three girls, and another person. A female chuunin; probably the three girls' teacher. Lunch-face (fucking bitch)no longer has the rest of my lunch on her. Parts of her face and clothes are wet from her attempts at getting it off, though she still has some red stains. Her hair is mussed and tangled from Naruto's attempt to de-hair her. A brief feeling of vindictive satisfaction surges through me. Naruto attacked her for me!
As soon as she sees us, Lunch-face makes a face as if she smelled something horrible and starts shouting. "You! This is all your fault!"
She moves to start stomping toward us, but Lefty reaches out to hold her back, one hand gripping the other girl's shoulder.
"Michiko," Lefty says hesitantly. "Michiko, stop."
"It's true!" Righty butts in, scowling. "Why are little kids in the Academy! Demon brats!"
What? Where does this bitch get off calling us demons? She's the demon, throwing me off like that. I could have been seriously injured! And what was she planning to do to Naruto?
I squeeze Naruto's hand tightly, moving to stand slightly in front of him, and ready myself to retaliate. But Yamori's hand on my head stops me. He steps in front of us, obscuring us (protecting us), but not blocking our view, and doesn't say anything. He... isn't looking at the girls. Instead, his body is angled toward the teachers.
Curiosity shines through my rage, stopping me from saying anything. I follow his gaze to try and discern what he's seeing. Naruto steps closer to me; I absentmindedly squeeze his hand. I take a deep breath and try to remove myself from the situation, calm myself. Observe.
Our teacher looks impassive, surprisingly. (Or not so surprisingly, since he probably agrees with the Brat Brigade.) The asshole who raised a hand against Naruto just looks angry, with a glower on his face. His arms are crossed and his fists are clenched tightly. The woman is looking at the three girls, an odd look on her face.
She interrupts the squabbling girls. "Where did you hear that?" All three girls quiet, glancing at each other in confusion.
"Hear what, sensei?" Lefty speaks up.
Their teacher clears her throat, throws Yamori a nervous glance. "The... uh, 'demon brats.'" Her voice tapers as she looks anywhere but at me and Naruto.
I look more closely at her, curious. She looks nervous, uncertain. She keeps shooting Yamori nervous glances. Why...? Oh, because they're her students, and she'll get in trouble because of them, if Yamori informs the Hokage. (If.) But it's not her fault...
Is it?
As much as I'd like to assume only their parents poison their already mush minds, there is the possibility that their teacher had a hand in their attitude toward us. As evidenced by our class, where our teacher makes obvious his dislike of us and our classmates are starting to follow his cue.
What makes this whole situation worse is that it's only been five days since we started here.
My attention falls back onto the girls when Lunch-face starts talking.
"Daddy calls them 'demon brats.' Says they shouldn't be allowed in po-lite com-pa-ny." She says the last two words slowly, uncertainly, like she's never said them before. (God, just how stupid is she?) Then she perks back up. "He says they should just die."
What.
Fuck you why don't you die you deserve death you and your dad just go—I take another deep breath. Exhale slowly. Naruto crowds me, pushes closer to Yamori, grips his cloak. Yamori reaches back slowly to pat Naruto's head reassuringly.
Rightly nods along with what Lunch-face says, but Lefty starts to look nervous. She subtly backs away from Lunch-face.
"Michiko," she whispers, but Lunch-face pays her no mind.
Their teacher's spine stiffens. Her hands form fists. She looks toward Yamori, face grim. Behind her, our teacher's impassive façade falters. A sneer forms on his lips for a second, before he schools his face. But it's long enough for me to notice. For Yamori to notice. The other male teacher hunches into himself, a little, finally realizing that things are not going well for the anti-Naruto-and-Renge side.
"I apologize for my students' behavior," their teacher says. She doesn't take her eyes off of Yamori as she speaks. Lunch-face looks stunned. Righty's face crumples into confusion. Lefty just backs away even more. "It was very unbecoming of them. They will be punished accordingly. I will also speak to their parents."
Yamori is silent for a moment. Then he gives a brief nod, followed by a head shake.
"I am not the one who deserves apologies."
The female teacher stiffens as Yamori takes a step aside to stop shielding us. Eventually she drags her eyes down toward us, as if she forgot we are here, or she wanted to forget. She gives a shallow nod. Takes a deep breath.
"I'm sorry."
Apology accepted. Is what I should say. But I don't want to accept her apology. I shouldn't have to. She's not the one who did anything wrong. She's not the one who tried to makes us fall out of a tree, or throw me to the ground, or try to slap Naruto.
But Naruto beats me to the punch.
"You don't need to say sorry!" he shouts, indignant. His face is scrunched up in frustration. Then he points toward Lunch-face and her cohorts. "They do! They hurt nee-san!"
Lunch-face's expression contorts as she winds herself up to launch into what's probably a bitch-fest, but her teacher stops her.
"You're right," she says, ignoring Lunch-face's gawping. She turns a stern look onto the three. Lunch-face puffs up, but Righty shrinks away. "Apologize."
"But—"
"Apologize. Now."
The other teacher, not ours, fidgets uncomfortably as the silence stretches. Eventually, Lunch-face lets out a noise of frustration and glares at us, biting out an apology.
"Sor-ry."
Lefty and Righty echo her, Righty in a mumble. Their teacher gives Lunch-face a gimlet-eyed stare. She looks dissatisfied (I am, too). Lunch-face squirms under the look.
Finally, she breaks. "I'm sorry, okay! Happy? I'm telling Daddy about this!"
Then she storms out of the room. Righty hesitates for a moment before following her. Letting out a sound of exasperation, their teacher rushes after them.
"Michiko! Kaoru! Come back here, right now!"
Lefty stays behind, however. She fidgets with her fingers, looks up at Yamori curiously, before sliding her gaze toward me and Naruto, and flinching away.
"Um," she mumbles. "I—really am sorry, okay? I didn't know. Michiko—she said she wanted to talk!"
I don't say anything. I don't know what she wants me to say. It's okay? It's not your fault you're friends with such a horrible person? Naruto doesn't say anything, either. He looks confused, uncertain. He sneaks a glance at me, as if asking what to do. I bite back a noise of frustration. Of course, it's me who has to take the lead.
"Okay."
It's all I can manage to say. Lefty wilts a little, but she also nods in acceptance. She probably realizes it's all she'll get out of us.
Our teacher interrupts the awkward exchange with a loud sigh as he walks toward us. Yamori's left hand, the one closest to us, twitches minutely.
"Alright, let's get to class. The bell's about to ring," says our teacher as he ushers us out without touching us.
Naruto makes a noise of protest, craning his neck back to look at Yamori. "But what about—"
"Class, D—Naruto," our teacher bites out, stumbling awkwardly over Naruto's name.
As we exit out into the hallway, I turn to get one more look at Yamori. He stands in the same position, unmoving, staring at the only other person left.
And then there was one.
.
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Having decided not to sign up for any after-school classes, Naruto and I head straight home after class.
When we get to our apartment, I find a note written by our landlord slipped under our door. In it is information on how much the rent is and when it's due. I set the money aside (actually, I get Naruto to do it, since he insists on taking care of the money) so that we don't accidentally spend our rent. I'm not sure how we're going to last with the amount of money we have left over. Already we're running short. If only people didn't overcharge us...
I let out a sigh, determined not to let my thoughts consume me, and look down at the homework I've been steadily working on. And resist the urge to scowl.
After class, we were originally going to go to the shopping district and try and set up some trip wire we scavenged the other day. But now that I'm injured (again), that's out. It's too bad; I was looking forward to it.
And we've got to use some of the things we scrounged up, just yesterday, from an empty training field. The kunai are too big for our puny, pudgy hands and the shuriken are just too fucking pointy, so there's no way I'm letting either of us handle them. Not until we're older.
I've never done anything like that before. I mean, c'mon. Trip wire. For once, I'm no longer the girl who trips over her own feet. Well. Still kinda am, but that's because I'm so tiny, okay! And some people just like tripping us up. You would think, now that we're officially on our way to becoming professional killers, that people would be a bit wary of getting on our bad side.
Apparently not. Or maybe they're just stupider than I thought.
But...
Now I can have hella fun watching other people trip.
Except not, because I'm injured. I don't get why they couldn't just use iryou ninjutsu and heal it up. Maybe I'll ask Yamori later.
Actually.
Will I even see Yamori later? That was the first time we've seen him since... (pain sharp blooming pain bleeding can't move) since we moved into our apartment. Is he still guarding us? If so, why hasn't he revealed himself to us? Why did he wait until Naruto almost got slapped?
Maybe he isn't guarding us anymore. Maybe he just sensed Naruto's distress (how?) and showed up with impeccable timing. Who's guarding us, then? Is anyone guarding us?
Maybe you should stop thinking and start focusing on your homework.
I bite back a sigh.
Right. Homework. The bane of my existence. The easiest and most annoying fucking thing I'll be doing for the next few years. The only new thing I've learned, so far, is that Naruto and I need to exercise more instead of just running around. Plenty stamina, no strength. At least I got to sit out from PT today.
For now, I've been steadily working through my kanji workbook. I want to get through it as quickly as I can, learn as much as I can, because I need a larger reading and writing vocabulary. So that I can read more complicated books. I'm tired of reading children-level stories. I'm tired of having so much limited access to knowledge. I need to be able to read more before I try going to the library again. What's the use of having a book if you can't read it?
Kana was definitely easier to learn, though I still have trouble with it sometimes, but kanji's a bitch.
I'm still surprised I learned how to read and write Japanese (kana and kanji), especially with how horrible my memory used to be. Learning Spanish was easy enough at first because it uses the same characters as English. But Korean... It's hard to call yourself Korean when you can barely write in the language. I blame all the American schooling.
Not that any of that matters anymore. (And I ignore the pang in my chest that thought causes, because it's true.) But this body—Renge's body—my body, and that's still a weird thought, is different.
(Stupid stupid little girl why won't you use your brains do your homework get better grades earn lots of money why have kids if they won't support you why bother—)
But maybe I'm smarter now because I've been using this brain a lot since I was... reborn. The brain is a muscle, too.
Actually, that would explain a bit about Naruto, too.
Across from me, Naruto is working on the history homework I finished yesterday. He's squinting down at the book in front of him, flipping through the pages while looking up the answer to whatever question he's working on.
(Not that he's the studious type. I have to regularly bribe and goad him into doing his work. After that disastrous try at doing the dishes, Naruto loathes doing them. Which is why I have him do it. I hate doing the dishes, too. And anyway, I do all the cooking. I don't really trust Naruto to be able to cook something edible.)
You would think learning the history of what you once thought of as a fictional world would be interesting (or at least more interesting than the history classes you used to take). But it isn't, at all. It's just as boring. Worse, because it's all kiddy stuff. And propaganda. Which really shouldn't surprise me. The only interesting part is parsing through the information we're given to try and find a kernel of truth.
It's a bit disgusting, actually. Witnessing just how biased all these accounts are. How much false information is being spread as truth. The only problem is that I don't know what's true, either. I can make guesses, but that's all they are: guesses.
But I wish they would teach us about the Uzumaki clan or Uzushiogakure. Wasn't Konoha allied with them? And their jinchuuriki so far have all been Uzumaki members. I want to learn more about the clan this body of mine comes from.
I only know a few things. That they were known for their fuuinjutsu, longevity, fast healing, and having lots of chakra. Also those chakra chains, right? I know Kushina had them, at least.
I want to know what I can use. What to expect.
And.
The one thing I dread above all is the longevity. Uzumaki Mito lived from the founding of Konoha to sometime in Kushina's youth. She outlived her husband, her children, and probably even her grandson, Nawaki or whatever his name is. (Was.) And Kushina survived the extraction of Kurama, which most jinchuuriki cannot survive. Doesn't Naruto survive it, too? But Gaara died from it.
But these are all events from a manga. Who knows how much of what I know/read is accurate? The mangaka was only human. And how did he even get his hands on the knowledge of this world?
Ugh. Thinking about it hurts my brain.
Longevity, though. It's something I don't want, something I never wanted. Even Before, I could never picture myself living until thirty. I once jokingly imagined I'd kill myself before reaching fifty. And maybe it's my morbid humor, but I have to stop myself from laughing. Because I died before I turned twenty-five.
Died.
Ha.
And now look at me.
I'm not even sure how long I'll live this time (why bother why live). Not with so many overpowered people, so many enemies Konoha has. Naruto will have. And I don't want that for Naruto. Fighting and fighting and losing all those people he... loves? Likes? His "friends." It's one of the many reasons I just want to take Naruto and leave.
But I don't want to risk losing him. I don't want to risk him rejecting me. (Even though there's the possibility he'll reject me, anyway.)
I hope to at least live long enough to see Naruto have a wife and kids, or something. Maybe a boyfriend instead? I don't know what Naruto's sexual preference is. (Will be?) Just. As long as it's not Sasuke, I'm fine with whoever. But if it is Sasuke... I'll have to kill the Uchiha, last of his clan or not. Seriously. Fuck the Uchiha. Fuck Sasuke.
"Neeeeee-san," Naruto whines, breaking me from my thoughts.
"Hm?" I look up to see Naruto sprawled across the table and his homework, arms stretched out to try and reach me. My lips quirk up into a half smile.
"I'm boooooooored!"
Picking up my pencil, I poke at his fingers. "Did you finish your homework?"
Naruto pushes himself back up and nods enthusiastically. "Yeah! So let's play!"
I bite my lip. He's done already? Well...
I should check it over.
"Let me see," I demand, holding my hand out.
Naruto pouts at me but complies. With just one glance I can tell he's half-assed it. His handwriting is sloppier than usual and the first answer is incorrect. I look at Naruto with an unimpressed expression, except he counters it with his hopeful one, eyes wide and shining. Guh.
I have to look away quickly. Shit. Why can't I resist those eyes!?
"Why don't you get the groceries while I mark your answers?" Which isn't what he wants to hear, evidenced by his downtrodden expression. I send him a smirk. "Next time, put more effort into this, okay?" And I wave the sheets of paper at him.
"Fiiiine," he whines again, pouting. But he's quick to bound out of his chair and toward the door.
"Don't forget the list!"
Naruto skids to a stop, turns around, and snatches the list pinned to the fridge. Then he rushes out, shouting a quick, "Bye!"
I sigh and go back to correcting Naruto's homework.
Not even half of it's correct. He really didn't put much effort into it. I really wish he would, though. (Like you did? Lazy, procrastinator. Skipping class, not doing homework. How did you manage like you did? Did you really think you would be able to graduate college like that?) I'm trying. I'm different from how I used to be. I'm making sure I'm different. It helps that the schoolwork is easy. So far we've been working on the basics: reading, writing, math, and history, with PT every day (which sucks but is probably a good thing).
But—it's so silent, without Naruto. I'm not used to it being so silent. I don't want it to be silent. Which is.
I used to love the silence (Not the Silence, though. Creepy buggers). I used to hate it when my dad wouldn't shut up, when he would watch TV shows for hours and hours and there was no silence. But now the silence hurts. It makes me think. And remember.
And I remember. My hand rises unbidden to touch the gauze taped over the scar on my right cheek. I haven't had the courage to look at it yet. Naruto insists on taking care of it. He probably blames himself. I don't blame him, though. It's Old Lady's fault.
It's my fault. I should have realized something was wrong. I never trusted her, never liked her. The way she treated us... But I still ate the food she made! I thought she wouldn't do anything too bad, wouldn't want to risk it. (Like what she did wasn't bad enough? Like the way she treated Naruto—treated us—was in any way okay, as long as she didn't cross a line?)
And now—now I've let Naruto go outside on his own! Damn it! What was I thinking? Where is he? I close my eyes and breathe deeply and concentrate. And I feel for him.
There. Not too far away, on the stairs a floor below. He should be back soon. Except—something's wrong. Kurama's chakra feels agitated.
I quickly hop down from the chair and rush out of the apartment, not bothering to close the door. When I turn to make my way toward the stairs, what I see makes me stop.
Naruto's at the top of the stairs, bag of groceries gripped tightly in his right hand. His left is pressed against his forehead. That isn't what makes me stop, though. It's the girl crouching in front of Naruto. I can see her mouth moving, but I can't hear what she's saying. And she's too close to Naruto.
"Naruto!" I shout, rushing toward him. Both Naruto and the girl look toward me, my brother with a frown pulling down the sides of his lips. I push my way between the two, taking the bag from Naruto so that I can grip his hand.
My twin's face twists into exasperation. "Nee-san!"
I'm about to turn my face away from him to glower at the girl, who is still too close, when I get a good look at Naruto's forehead. He's holding a handkerchief in place. My face contorts into a scowl that I direct toward the girl who... actually looks concerned for Naruto.
"What happened?" I bite out without taking me eyes off her, though my question is for Naruto.
"Dunno," the girl responds instead, her brows furrowing as she peers cautiously at me.
I grit my teeth. "I wasn't asking you." As her face turns from cautious to something else (I don't know what, though), I glance at Naruto. He's scowling at me. "Well?"
Except he doesn't answer me, instead turning his face away. His ears turn red, however. Doesn't matter, though. I can guess what happened. I throw one last glance at the girl before dragging Naruto back toward our apartment. Naruto makes a noise of protest, grumbling under his breath, but I ignore him.
As soon as we're inside, I make sure to close and lock the door and set the bag of groceries down. Then I examine Naruto more closely. His knees are scuffed and there's dirt all over the front of his shirt and pants. Biting back a sigh, I pull Naruto into the bathroom.
We don't say anything as I pull out the first aid kit, but when I try to pull the handkerchief away from him, he pulls away. For a second, I'm shocked into silence.
Impatient, I bite out his name, "Naruto."
"No," he says, frowning at me. "Why were you mean to her? She was just being nice! She gave me this!"
He pulls the handkerchief away from his forehead and waves it around to make his point, but all I can focus on is the revealed bloody gash. Reflexively, I suck in a breath. I take my chance and use the disinfectant wipe, holding his head in place with my other hand, lest he tries to flinch away (which he does). But when I wipe away the blood, all I see is a mostly-healed scab. I almost frown at the sight. Sometimes it's easy to forget that he heals so quickly.
Pulling away, I slap an adhesive bandage (since they aren't called Band-Aids here) onto the scab.
Naruto rears back, a hand going up to rub the spot. "Ow."
"Just because she was nice doesn't mean she can be trusted."
Naruto squints at me. He hops down from the toilet seat he was sitting on and watches me as I put away the kit. He's silent as we make our way back into the kitchen and as I put away the groceries we won't need for dinner. He sits at the table, staring down at it. I pull out the rest of the ingredients.
I'm scowling at a mushy tomato when he speaks up. "But how do you know she can't be trusted?"
"How do you know she can be?" I respond automatically, then bite my lip.
Because.
I'm infecting Naruto. My negative thoughts, my distrustful nature, I'm affecting Naruto. I'm making him question things he normally wouldn't. And though in some ways it can be good, is this really what I want for him? To not be able to trust anyone? (Like me?) What if he comes to distrust me?
"Just... be careful. Maybe she can be trusted. Who knows."
We're silent again. In the silence, the sound of me dragging a chair over to the sink is dramatically loud. As I wash the vegetables, I bite my lip again and curse myself mentally. I really am a bad influence, aren't I? I'll have to watch what I say around him. God, where's a parental figure when you need one?
I shake my head to rid myself of these thoughts and turn back to making dinner. "Fix your homework."
Naruto groans and grumbles, but ultimately complies.
.
.
My worries about the notes, it seems, are unfounded. Or they're worse. I'm not sure which it is yet.
But here I am, staring at my "coded" scribblings, and wondering what the fuck. Because.
Because today Yamori came over. Except not as Yamori.
It's the first weekend since we started at the Academy. I'm standing in front of the stove, wondering what the hell I'm going to cook, Naruto whining from his position slumped over the table, when there's a knock. At the door. I startle so badly I almost ram into the counter.
Naruto, on the other hand, perks his head up like a dog and stares wide-eyed at the door. Before I can shout out a warning, he's up and opening it. We never have visitors, and I know he's just a kid, but that might be an enemy!
So I rush right after him to see him blinking up, mouth agape, at a tall man with spiky brown hair and dark eyes, with a puckered scar on the left side of his face and across the bridge of his nose, staring down at Naruto, brows furrowed. He's wearing the standard Konoha shinobi attire and has a backpack over his shoulders and a grocery bag (or so I assume, going by the green onions poking out of it) in one of his hands.
I stand next to Naruto, reaching out to grip his hand tightly. "Can we help you?"
The man blinks slowly at me, brows still furrowed, and gives a short nod.
"My name is Namiashi Raidou," he says, voice gentle and unhurried (why does it sound familiar I've never met this man before). He's probably worried about startling us, since I'm doing nothing to hide how tense I am and Naruto's starting to pick up on that. "The Hokage has assigned me to regularly review your situation... living without a caretaker."
My brows furrow. He's here to check up on us? Of course. That was part of the agreement. And the Hokage probably doesn't trust us to take proper care of ourselves. Which.
Well.
So maybe I'm not the best of caretakers. And I'm in a child's body. So. Valid point?
But before I can say anything, Naruto shakes himself out of his stupor, shouting:
"You're Yamori!" (1)
Both my and Raidou's (Yamori's?) eyes widen at the declaration.
Yamori? Really?
But—
Well. Hm. His voice sounds familiar. And on further inspection, he is around the same height. And the hair's similar. And his reaction...
But how does Naruto know?
"How?" Raidou blurts out. He straightens, stepping inside uninvited (rude) and closing the door behind him, forcing Naruto and I back into the living room.
The Anbu pulls a slip of paper from his pouch and places it on the door, sending a pulse of chakra through it. When he removes his hand, the paper sticks.
Fuuinjutsu?
What is that, a secrecy seal? Which makes sense, actually. Because Naruto just blurted out Yamori's codename for anyone to hear. But now I stand awkwardly in the middle of the apartment, hand still clutching Naruto's, warily watching someone who...
I don't know anymore.
The Hokage's spy (because why else an Anbu)? Or are they genuinely concerned for us? And that's why the Hokage assigned someone familiar to us. Even if normally we would've never known that we know him. I don't—I don't know.
But Naruto's excited to see Yamori again, bouncing on the heels of his feet, watching Yamori—Raidou—with wide eyes. Raidou rubs the back of his neck, glancing at Naruto in consideration.
"Naruto," he begins, his lips twitching down into a frown. "How do you know I'm Yamori?"
And Naruto is so eager to answer.
"I recognized you!"
Which. Ha.
"How did you recognize me?" Raidou asks as he quirks a half-smile.
Confused, Naruto tilts his head and glances at me out of the corner of his eye. I just shrug. I'm curious, too.
"Well," he says hesitantly. "Your voice—it's the same, right? And so is your height, and your smell, and you look the same, too! Just in different clothes." Here, his brows furrow. "Hey, why are you in different clothes? Where's your mask? Oh—I can see your face!"
The same—really? I thought...
I've been underestimating Naruto. He probably has enhanced senses because of Kurama. Ugh, why haven't I thought about that?
And why haven't I noticed any of the things Naruto pointed out? I mean, sure the smell thing is impossible for me (or is it? Can you train that?), but what about his voice or his height, or even the way he carries himself?
...I really need to train my awareness. Ninja skills, damn it. I need them.
But Raidou just blows out a breath of frustration. He doesn't slump, but he looks like he wants to.
"I see," he murmurs, giving himself a little nod, and seeming to come to a decision. "You cannot mention I am Yamori to anyone, understood? Yamori is my secret codename." He waits until we both nod, Naruto enthusiastically, me easily (because it'd be dangerous to admit knowing that to anyone). "Call me Raidou from now on, unless you see me in the clothes I used to wear. Understood?"
Naruto and I nod again.
"Well then," he says, quirking another half-smile. "I brought some of your belongings retrieved from your old apartment and some groceries. Have you eaten yet?"
"Not yet. Nee-san's horrible at cooking!" Naruto makes an over-exaggerated look of disgust, sticking his tongue out at me.
Offended, I consider flipping him off, but decide against it. My cooking isn't great, but it's not that bad. Besides, I'm the only one of the two of us who eve knows how to cook! "Yeah, well, do you want to cook?"
"Erm, no. Nee-san, your cooking is great! Fantastic!"
Yamori—Raidou,damn it—leaves us to squabble, making his way uninvited into the kitchen, where he puts down the backpack, to put away the groceries. Naruto and I immediately set upon the backpack, pawing through it to see what he brought. We don't have much, so every little thing counts, even if it's the stuff that we owned while living with that woman.
(The pain the blooming fire the screaming make it stop makeitstop)
There are some books, the blocks Raidou got us, and baby toys. Actually, everything in there is something Raidou got us. (Disappointingly, there is a distinct lack of all shinobi tools we've scrounged up.) But what really gives me pause, what really trips me up, is my stack of notes I find at the bottom of the bag. Pages covered in big, colorful letters, sloppy, looking like a child's scribbles. But a little too organized for a child.
I sneak a glance up at the man peering closely at the contents of our cupboards. He... he really cares about us. How much money has he spent on us over the years? I doubt the Hokage reimbursed him for everything. Actually, does the Hokage even know? And then after, at the hospital. The way he hugged us, cried.
God. Either he's an exceptional actor. Or. And it's something I'm having so much trouble accepting, because how do you trust someone? How do you care for someone so much? I like to think I really care for Naruto. I mean, he's my twin (except I'm not his). We've spent four years together. I should trust him, love him.
I do. (Don't I?) And Yamori's really grown on me. He's also been with us for (most of) four years. I know he's a bit reticent, and polite. But that just might be because he always interacted with us as an Anbu member. Now he's just Raidou. Just... what? What is he now?
And.
What I don't get. What I really don't get, is why? Why didn't he deny that he's Yamori? Why is he checking up on us in person? He can probably get away with just spying on us without revealing himself to us (like he could have when he was our Anbu watcher, but he didn't and he isn't). So why?
And my notes. They...
He could have given them to the Hokage, or their Cryptology team, or who knows. But he didn't.
He gave them back to me.
He gave them back to me so nonchalantly and he didn't even ask anything about them. Doesn't even mention them. (Shouldn't they be suspicious? Shouldn't he wonder?)
I just... I just don't know anymore.
I don't get it. I don't get him.
And I make sure to keep a close eye on the food he's handling as he cooks us breakfast. Breakfast! I don't understand him, and maybe I trust him a little, but I'm definitely not going to let another Old Lady incident happen again.
I don't... I don't want to be poisoned again. (Don't think about it don't think about it.)
.
.
Raidou leaves soon after feeding us (and the food must not be poisoned, because he doesn't hesitate to eat it, and neither Naruto nor I have a reaction—though maybe it's a delayed type. And it's not paranoia if they're actually out to get you, damn it), perhaps sensing the fact Naruto and I need to talk in private. The whole affair is awkward, though maybe only for me. Naruto's excited enough, babbling about his week to Raidou, who seems genuinely interested. Or he's good at faking it.
But we do need to talk. I just don't know what to say.
I don't know what to think. About Raidou. About this whole situation. I mean, we're two kids, living alone. Two four year old kids. Is this the same age Naruto started living on his own—the other Naruto? Without me. It isn't much use thinking about what-if scenarios, I know, but I can't help it.
As much as I hate thinking too heavily on things, I can't help but worry. It's exacerbated by the fact that I have my notes back. I haven't thought about them since I wrote them. Like so much else, I put them out of thought (out of sight, out of mind). I thought I'd have more time before I really had to worry about things.
No, I should still have more time.
We're only four, we just started the Academy. The schoolwork so far is agonizingly easy. Even Naruto has only a little trouble keeping up with children two years his senior. The only problem we've had so far (aside from the people, students and teachers alike) is the physical training portion. We're younger and smaller than the others. Weaker.
(I don't want to be weak, don't want to be used.)
I finger the stack of notes listlessly, watching from the corner of my eye as Naruto stacks the reacquired blocks before rearing up and knocking them over with a shout.
Oh, Naruto. You're such a kid.
Which.
Really means I can't confide in him, can I? He's just too young. Too young for so much, living without adult supervision being one of them. Being cynical and paranoid (like me) being another. So I can't talk to him about Raidou.
Actually...
I flip through my childish notes, looking for the "Characters" section. My eyes scan the page quickly, looking for a certain entry. Sure enough, Namiashi Raidou is listed.
This is what I have written:
"Name: Namiashi Raidou; Age: late 20s, early 30s (Kakashi's generation); Note: Konoha Jounin? Friends with Shiranui Genma. Minato's bodyguard?"
My eyebrows raise involuntarily. That's it? That's all I have on him? Well, I suppose it's more than some people. Like Nara Shikaku, whose entry only states that he's Shikamaru's dad and the Jounin Commander.
But the note about being Minato's bodyguard... Is that why he treats us so well? Because he knew Minato? And Kushina. Maybe he associates us with them. My grip on the page tightens, crinkling it. I set it down before I mess it up more, giving the pages a frustrated look.
I should get a notebook. Pocketbook. Something to carry around that I can update regularly. (Like to change Raidou's status to Anbu.) Actually, I can go do that now.
Rearranging my notes, I call out to Naruto. "Hey, I need to go buy some notebooks."
Naruto pauses from where he's stooped over picking up blocks. He haphazardly drops the pile of blocks in his arms and hops over to the door.
"Now?" he asks belatedly.
I snort. "Yeah, now. Just let me put these away."
I wave the papers for emphasis before going into our room and stuffing them into the bottom drawer. When I get back to the living room/kitchen, Naruto's already got his shoes on. He's too busy stuffing Gama-chan into his pants to pay me any mind. Shaking my head at him, I slip on my shoes and open the door before pushing Naruto out.
"Hey!" he shouts.
I only snicker at him, turning away to lock the door behind us.
.
.
Sometimes I lay in bed, Naruto drooling on my shoulder and just—freak out. My mind runs in circles, panicking. I can't sleep and I keep thinking what am I going to do!? This world, this place, these people. My brother and the monster locked in him (I'd be a monster, too, if people locked me up—that'salieyoufilthyliaryou'lljustdowhatyoudidbeforedeathissomuchbetter).
And I wonder about my family. Are they dead? Alive? Do they miss me?
But I don't have the right to miss them. After everything, I don't have the right. I gave it all up. I wanted freedom, and I went out to get it, and I did. Just not in the way I planned to. Wanted to.
Would I really have gone through with it? Did I have enough courage? All those years fearing pain, trying so hard not to feel it—all those years trying to avoid pain, would I really have done it?
I don't know.
I'll never know (or will I? Will I follow the same path? Finally do what I didn't get to? Reach for freedom again? But it isn't freedom isn't what I want isn't oblivion but Nothingness empty and full everyone and no one surrounded and lonely whirling whirling the pushandpull). Never find out. Never find the peace I wanted. The freedom.
And I should miss them, my family. Others would, wouldn't they? But I don't. I don't think I ever will. Sure, I think about them sometimes. Some of those memories are even fond. But this all started because I wanted to escape them.
It hurts, sometimes, thinking about them.
No, it used to hurt. Not anymore. Now I have someone who wants me, who needs me. (Who is drooling on my shoulder right now. Gross.)
It doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't fucking matter. I'm free of it, of them.
Free, but not free. This isn't the freedom I wanted.
Instead, there is Naruto. And Kurama. And Raidou (and I still don't know if I can trust him). And I have no clue what the fuck I'm doing, what I'm going to do. I've written down all that I know about the version I remember (because that mangaka's telling of Naruto's story has to be a version now that I'm here). Now that I'm living this life—unless I'm hallucinating, dreaming this up to fill the Nothingness, but it's best not to think like that. This way leads madness. Ha—things are different. Will be different.
Naruto needs me. (But for how long? Eventually he'll leave me, too. Just like everyone else. He won't need me. And then what?) He needs someone he can rely on, someone he can trust. (Can he really trust me?) Screw the plot. Screw everyone else.
I just don't want to be weak. I don't want to be like I was before. I don't want to rely on anyone (but I already do) or let anyone use me.
I need to get stronger. I need strength. (But not power.)
.
.
A/N:
1 Raidou is listed as a Tokubetsu Jounin, assassin, and elite bodyguard, and was part of Minato's Hokage Guard Platoon. In this, he's part of Anbu, because otherwise that's just a waste of skills, and Anbu is about assassinations and being the Hokage's bodyguard.
Oh my god. No. Why are these chapters getting longer!? Urg.
(I just recently had the thought: "Wow, I need to think about/plan on killing some characters, because no one's dying." Completely disregarding the Uchiha clan and like a bajillion background characters that are gonna die.)
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A special thank you to Ensavondel for letting me hash out an idea with her (which doesn't come into play for a few chapters yet). Also thanks to Yozakura for fixing the Japanese spoken in chapter one!
And a great big thank you to ElectraSev5n (electraposts on tumblr) for recommending my story! If you haven't read her stories yet, you definitely should. She does the SI-as-Naruto's-twin trope too, differently from me. But her stories are really great. And finished (which is a huge plus, because how many of these actually get finished?).