Author's Note: Most Naruto-world technology is modern, as is evidenced by the liberal use of photography. Transportation and weapons are the only major exceptions. Laptops surface directly once, and it's mentioned in another place within the series that ninja even have modern non-work clothes. While a ninja's job is traditional, their personal life is not, and I tried to present that here. If you have a problem with this, take it up with Masashi Kishimoto, with his manga staff, and with the anime writers who decided to base an entire movie around a fictional live-action movie. Some parts of this chapter will be traditional feudal Japan, some will not. I encourage you to give the chapter a chance, however. I tried to integrate nicely.
2.
Naruko's home was simple. A one story wooden abode, it was set in the middle of a man-made forest clearing, the spruce, fir, oak, beech, and broadleaf evergreens chopped away to make room for a small house and a surrounding garden. Most forests carried either spruce and fir, or oak and beech, or broadleaf evergreens. But the First Hokage, who built Konoha, had chakra related power over trees and wood and it was thought that the chakra infused in the very earth surrounding Konoha had begun growing trees from all sorts of different climates. Hence, the village name Konoha - Leaf. Naruko knew this. She knew everything about nature, forestry, and plants.
The forest was silent, cool, and dim, the trees shading walkers from the heat of the sun, and Naruko traveled up the dirt path through the groves of trees surrounding her house and into the clearing holding the house itself. Sometimes she left the sliding screen doors open at night, especially during hot summers, so she could hear the crickets chirping in the evening air from her pallet, the sound lulling her to sleep.
She used the stepping stones through the garden, hopping from stone to stone so she didn't ruin her precious plants, and climbed up onto the porch. She kicked off her clogs and put them next to her regular shinobi sandals. She slid back the door and entered the house.
It was covered in splattered wall murals she had painted herself. One entire wall was covered in darts and paint balloons for paint balloon art. Seal studies and Uzumaki scrolls littered the apartment, as did homemade science experiments in varying states of disarray. The kitchen was well stocked with food. On one wall, in pride of place, was a photo of Naruko and Hinata at a birthday celebration of Naruko's. They were doing blown glass art and painting it at an art studio.
Naruko went to her bedroom, feeling downcast and defeated by the day. She took off her wig, wiped away the makeup, slid out of the kimono. She tied her blonde hair up in its usual pigtails, applied a fresh coat of pink lip gloss, got back into her bright orange kunoichi dress and strapped the weapons holster onto her leg.
She contemplated gazing miserably in the mirror and wondering what was wrong with her, but decided that would be too angsty. Instead, she took up her gardening tools and traveled out to the garden around her house. There was no gardener - she cared for the entire traditional garden herself.
Traditional gardens, instead of being artificially shaped, were created to highlight the natural landscape. There was something very spiritual and philosophical about it, crafting a garden as it was supposed to be, not as one wanted it to be - something almost Zen. Gardens were also supposed to be in contact with Shinto nature spirits, so the landscape being natural was very important. That was why she had named her gardens after spirits, each sharing the first sound "ah": the front garden was Ameonna, a female spirit who brought plentiful rain; the back garden was Aosaginohi, a luminescent heron spirit in the hopes that twittering birds would frequent the quiet of the forest and her garden; the pond in the back garden was Amabie, a mermaid yokai.
She clapped her hands before the gardens. "Alright, Ameonna-san, Aosaginohi-san, Amabie-san! Let's get to work, dattebayo!"
The pond was a mini lake, really. It was surrounded by rocks that appeared to have been eroded by waves, a sandy beach, and it was overhung by a pine tree representing longevity, in "ocean style." There was a tiny island in the middle to represent Mount Horai, the traditional home of the Eight Immortals, the island itself a "cloud island," made of white sand in the rounded white form of a cumulus cloud. There was a miniature cascade coming from a nearby well and flowing into the lake, water draining out back into the well through a tiny hole in the bottom of the lake and then through a filter. The cascade fell over countless rocks and it faced toward the moon, designed to capture the moon's reflection in the water. The water entered from the east and carried into the west, which was thought to produce good luck. Mythologically, the Green Dragon was in the east, while the White Tiger was in the west.
There were smooth, flat stepping stones leading a careful, winding path through both the front garden and the back garden. Stone lanterns stood as silent sentinels on stone poles lining the paths through both the front and back garden, lit by automatic electricity at night. They were surrounded by greenery, with the entire garden in turn surrounded by white sand, a barrier between the garden and the trees beyond. A tiny wood painted bridge in both gardens arched over the sand, so one could easily travel from the garden and into the forest, or back.
But the greenery of the gardens themselves, the layer of moss and the dotted trees and flowers, were what took the most gardening care. Naruko had already talked the Hokage into paying for a professional gardener when she went off on ninja missions in the future, because she would entrust no less with her precious gardens.
Everything was carefully chosen: the trees for their autumn colors, the flowers by their season of flowering, everything arranged to look as natural as possible. She had a bed of lotus flowers in the front garden, the lotus being sacred in Buddhist teachings. The cherry trees looked beautiful in spring, and she would invite Hinata over for a tea ceremony outside during the spring time. The apricot tree provided fresh fruit in late spring and early summer. Trees were trimmed atop a ladder, their growth controlled to give them more picturesque shapes. Azalea bushes were trimmed into ball shapes. There were a series of bamboo trees in a half circle lining one side of the front garden. Grass was mowed away, moss was tended to, weeds were pulled up, each flower and each plant given exactly what it needed with tender care.
Naruko spent hours every week knelt, bent over, her hands in the earth, or up in a tree trimming this or that. She would hum and talk to the plants while she was working away at them. Her gardens were her pride and joy, her greatest point of beauty around the home.
She was knelt in front of the lotus bed, digging away with her trowel and applying fresh soil, when Hinata's voice came from behind her. "So you're going to garden your problems away?"
Naruko looked around. Hinata had come over the bridge and up behind her silently. She was one of the only people in the world who knew by heart where Naruko lived. She was now dressed in regular clothes as well, sweater and pants, her long dark hair loose around her. Her pale face was solemn.
"Ameonna-san's lotus flowers needed some nurturing," said Naruko, putting down her trowel and wiping her hands.
Hinata sighed, walked over, and knelt down beside her. "What did Nakodo-san say that upset you so much?"
Naruko swallowed. "She said… that I was too weird ever to attract a man. That I would never find one. And I know I don't even like any boys anyway, and I know I said I didn't care, and I know I expected this kind of result, and I know I don't need a man to get a hitai-ate ninja marker band or become the Hokage and gain the village's acknowledgment. But -"
"But it still hurt. No twelve year old girl wants to hear that," said Hinata, nodding. "Yeah.
"She's wrong, you know," Hinata added unexpectedly. "You have a way about you, Naruko-chan. You'll win somebody over. You won't spend the rest of your life alone."
Naruko sighed and stood. "Well," she said flatly, "it's not looking good so far, is it?"
Hinata stood as well. "Enough of this gloominess," she said firmly. "I came here to suggest a karaoke and DDR night at Ichiraku's?"
Naruko paused, and smiled. "That sounds good," she said. "I really do need to blow off some steam. Being miserable and not having any fun is no good."
"I thought you might feel that way," Hinata replied with equal good cheer.
Ichiraku's was a small local ramen joint in downtown Konoha, one that served every type of ramen imaginable. Hinata and Naruko traveled there in the excited evening air, past storefronts and chattering groups and couples, and up to Ichiraku's. A series of lit paper lanterns hung above a cloth hanging doorway announcing the ramen joint in paint: Ichiraku's.
Naruko charged through the cloth doorway on a cloud of excitement. Up close, Ichiraku's had a long, shining, polished wood and metal counter before vast open kitchens. The scent filling the entire place was warm, mouth watering, and delectable. Patrons sat on stools along the counter and watched their food being cooked. Then big bowls of ramen, filled with vegetables, meat, spices, and sauces, were set down before them and they got to work. It was considered sacrilege to talk before one finished their ramen. A plump old man named Teuchi was the cook, his thick apron splattered with ramen soup, his older teenage brunette daughter Ayame - curvy, smiley, and pretty - wore the white waitress's uniform.
"Teuchi-oji-san! Ayame-nee-chan!" Naruko shouted with enormous good cheer.
"Our best customer, the ramen fanatic!" Teuchi returned teasingly. "And her best friend, the only girl I know capable of besting her in an eating contest!"
"Hello, Teuchi-san," Hinata smiled, coming quieter through the door after Naruko.
"Someday. Someday I will defeat you." Naruko pointed dramatically and intensely at Hinata.
"You will not," said Hinata simply with a faint, smug smile.
Ayame laughed. "Sit down, girls. What'll it be?" They sat on stools and she came over with a notepad to take their order, one hip casually slung against the counter. "How's puberty treating you?" she asked Naruko, wrinkling her nose with affection, distaste, and sympathy. Ayame, though a civilian, was the one who had taught Naruko the most about things like periods and pregnancy. The Academy's version of sex ed was kind of pathetic.
Teuchi and Ayame had warmed up to Naruko over time. She'd made them cautious at first, but they'd given her a chance when she'd walked into their joint lured by the delicious smells and she'd proven as a younger child to be simply a very chattery and tomboyish little girl with a huge appetite for ramen. It was hard, Naruko supposed, to be intimidated by someone who openly worshipped the cooking ground you walked on.
"It sucks ass, dattebayo," said Naruko with feel. "It makes me want to punch people in the face but it also makes it harder for me to punch people in the face. There is no greater misery. I have to use tampons, kunoichi period kits, and one of those all day pain relievers. It's awful."
"La la la la la, I can't hear you! The soup is really loud!" Teuchi called from the kitchens.
"Well then here's something for you. Ayame-nee-chan, I'll take a pork and a miso. Teuchi-oji-san, fire up the karaoke machine and the DDR! I'm having fun tonight, dattebayo!" said Naruko, pounding the bar with a fist.
"That's the spirit," said Hinata comfortingly. "Nakodo-san told her she's not fit for a man," she muttered in explanation to Ayame.
"That bitch!" said Ayame in shock and indignation.
"If I had a son, Naruko, I would send him straight to you!" Teuchi said fiercely. "And if you want some DDR and karaoke, you've got it!" He stormed off to go set up the machines in the left and back portion of the shop, which had previously been darkened.
Naruko smiled. "Thanks, Teuchi-oji-san."
"Don't worry, Naruko," said Ayame. "I predict that someday you will be Hokage and prove that awful bitch totally wrong about everything. And you will have, like, ten husbands."
"You're a psychic now?" said Naruko slyly.
"Hell yeah I am," said Ayame firmly. "Ramen's on the house."
"Oh, but -" Naruko had already begun taking out her wallet, a little green toad whose mouth opened to hold money.
"Don't worry about it." Ayame waved her off. "You pay for at least half our bills each month anyway. Least we can do. Naruko-chan, I have a different question." Ayame seemed amused. "Why is your wallet a green toad?"
"Hey! Don't diss Gama-chan, dattebayo!" said Naruko defensively. "He's a money toad! The more money I have, the fatter the money toad gets. Someday, when I become Hokage, Gama-chan will be so fat he'll have to waddle when he walks," she declared.
"Well, the gods know I wouldn't want to disrespect the money toad," said Ayame, smiling.
Hinata seemed pleased behind Naruko. Her plan to get her best friend to feel better was going well. "I'll have shoyu," she said, and Ayame went off to place their orders.
Suddenly, the karaoke stage and the DDR machine near it both lit up. "Iiit's Ichiraku's Karaoke Night!" Teuchi called from the microphone on the bright stage, and all the patrons cheered.
Naruko and Hinata got first pick of every song, but the night was mostly for Naruko. She adored dancing, singing, and the stage, being playful or acting the spazz, and karaoke and DDR were two of her favorite things in the whole entire world. They were almost on an equal level with ramen. Teuchi, she sometimes suspected, had started the DDR and karaoke nights at Ichiraku's at least inspired by her, if not directly for her.
She was playful and beaming on the karaoke stage, singing bubblegum pop songs, and she danced wildly on the DDR machine, winning against countless opponents, improvising moves. What was required most in either of these activities was a supreme self confidence in having fun and being in one's own body, and here Naruko shone like no other. In between, she wolfed down bowls of ramen on par with Hinata, the two of them racing one another toward the eating finish line, Ayame timing them, chanting and grinning. Naruko got shouting and competitive, cheering at every victory, moaning at every loss, infecting Hinata into wider smiles with her sheer energy.
Ichiraku's quickly swelled and for once no one seemed to mind Naruko. Everyone was too busy laughing and chattering, playing, acting out and having fun. The hot, sweating, people filled, cheering atmosphere of the crowd bordered on manic, the lights glowing yellow. Being around all those people - it was a high like no other.
Naruko and Hinata took stupid videos, silly photos, and weird face selfies together on their phones in between songs, dances, and bowls, photographic proof of the night.
When at last they left Ichiraku's, it was late at night. They walked together through the lantern lit streets, slow and languid, enjoying the night, laughing and chatting.
"Hey, Hinata," said Naruko at one point.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks," said Naruko, and she meant it.
Hinata smiled. "No problem."
They parted ways on the road just before Hinata's downtown, fancy Hyuuga clan compound. Naruko took the rest of the walk home alone, out of the village and toward the trees. At one point, she passed stiffly some slightly drunk men hanging around outside a bar, their faces flushed and their words slurred. They leered at her, and one made a grab for her ass.
In a flash, Naruko had snatched at his hand, twisted it, and broken it with a snap, inches away from her butt. Naruko's face twisted in a silent snarl as the man screamed and fell to the ground. She gave the terrified remaining men one last warning look, and continued out of the village into the cool, dim sanctuary of the trees.
That had been happening more lately - some of the prejudice against her turning sexual. Naruko was not overly worried. She was a ninja; she knew ten different kinds of chakra techniques and two different styles of taijutsu. She could handle herself.
She made it back to her home, slid off her sandals, and entered the living room. She should probably go to sleep, but she was still riding a wave of energy from the day behind her. She couldn't sleep.
So she decided to make another of her ASMR videos.
She entered her studio, got the lighting, microphones, and camera equipment ready, and sat down in front of her background - a long swathe of purple velvet cloth spangled with stars. She got all of her equipment ready, and turned the camera on.
"Hello," she whispered, smiling, tapping the table and smoothing over the cloth that covered it. "It's Mermaid here. This is a very brief, informal video, made on a whim, so please excuse me." That was her online moniker - Mermaid ASMR. She smacked her glossy lips. "Today will be -" She leaned into one mic, representing one earbud, and breathed. "A whisper video -" She leaned into the mic on the other side. "Showcasing nail art."
She sat back and smiled, then cut the camera. She moved the camera over her hands and nail polish, and turned it on again. As she whispered about her day and did her nails, the movements hypnotic, she calmed some and began to fall into a more serene state of mind. Her ASMR videos were gentler and more reflective than her daily persona, and Hinata always said they constantly surprised her. She took deep breaths, smacked her lips, and whispered and breathed secrets to the camera, all the while painting her nails with fanciful nail art. (After perfecting seals and seal theory, after the precision that came with painting or homemade science experiments, nail art was not hard.)
"So my graduation exam into the ninja forces is coming up in a month. I'm - a little nervous." She laughed softly, playfully. "Well, maybe more than a little nervous."
Nail art started with polishing the nails with color. Making them all slick and uniform.
"And today, a nakodo came in to tell us about marriage and husbands. I do not know why this was a part of ninja training. She said some not so nice things to me."
Next came sticking on the tiny ornaments using the polish.
"And it was very interesting to me. I sat back now and I'm thinking: Wow, you know? I was really upset. As girls, even when we don't want to, we attach so much importance to whether or not a boy likes us. Clearly it was important to my Sensei. And it was important to the other girls, and even though I didn't want it to be, it was important to me as well."
Nail glue used sparingly to touch things up.
"Luckily, I have a good best friend, who took me out on the town to make me feel better. She is very sweet to me. And I have some good friends at the restaurant we went to as well. So I am very thankful for kind people."
And finally, the thick layer of the top coat.
"But I think, sometimes, when we hurt ourselves or when we get hurt, the best thing we can do is to laugh and to reach out to other people. I have to keep believing in people, even when they treat me badly. Because, it's not good to hold all those feelings inside your heart, you know? It makes your chest very heavy. It makes you become very cold, like a frigid winter. So I smile and I laugh, and I reach out to people - even when some of them reject me. And it hurts when they reject me, but sometimes they don't, you know? And that's worth it to me. So I keep believing in people, and I am happy."
She admired her finished nails. They were pink and turquoise, with little glued-on pink flamingos, pink seashells, and golden pineapples.
"See?" she breathed, giggling. "All better and all done." She tapped the table again with her new nails. Then she cut the video, letting it fade out over the image of her nails later during the video editing stage. She'd get lots of comments later, a few rude and sexual, several admiring fans telling her anyone would be lucky to have her. It was either one extreme or the other. Such was the fickle nature of the Internet.
She let her nails completely dry and then decided to soak in a nice, relaxing, gentle bubble bath. Someday when she was an adult, she wanted to do these with red wine, but right now she settled for a soothing cup of tea. So it was time to turn on the stove, warm the water, pour it into the cup and the tea bag, let the tea steep sleepily in the kitchen.
Then she released her hair, which fell long, loose, straight, and golden around her waist. And she got undressed, padding into the bathroom in her towel. She turned on the bath to warm water, added some bubble bath scent - warm vanilla sugar, pretty as a peach, and love & sunshine were her favorites - took off her towel, and slipped naked into the bath. Her cup of brewed tea was warm beside the tub.
Damp, she wrapped her arms around her knees and gazed at the far wall, letting the steam bathe her, reflective. Maybe later, she would work on a seal puzzle in bed before sleep, to get her mind to completely shut down.
But for now, she just relaxed in the water.