Crossing Stars
Yugao
Author's Note: Here's the second chapter! Oh yeah, I may have forgotten to mention in the first chapter that this fic is very, very loosely based on The Tale of Genji by Lady Murasaki. It's a Japanese epic story, but the only things similar between these two are the concepts, clothes, and the like, so basically it's not even close to plagiarism. If you have any questions please feel free to ask via reviews or private messages, thanks. Anyway, on to the story!
Disclaimer: There's nothing in Naruto I own.
Chapter 2… Setting Up Dreams
The sky was in the noonday position and radiant sunbeams ricocheted off the roofs of the small, well-kept houses in Higure. People dressed in bright, vivid colors passed each other on the street, smiling at friends and strangers alike. In the distance, surrounded by azaleas and cherry blossoms, stood the daimyo's mansion. Its white walls were more warmly welcoming than stern, and the blue-gray tiles of the roof seemed to catch the sunlight; it made the place look even more scintillating than it already was.
In the midst of the crowd, Tenten tugged self-consciously at her brown hair, pulled up into a loose but neat bun, and at the black lacquered hair ornament that held it in place. As she did, she looked down at herself. She wore a simple pale blue kimono, with a monotone pattern of white sprigs; a plain white satin obi encircled her waist, and a pair of straw sandals over white tabi. She didn't think the outfit was necessary, but apparently, Temari and Kankuro thought otherwise.
The clouded surface of the mirror glimmered as someone pulled back the tent flap and let in the sunlight. Tenten raised her hand to her eyes, shielding them from the near-blinding light. Her sudden movement startled Temari, who inadvertently tugged at the girl's hair harder than was necessary. She gave a surprised yelp, making both Temari and Kankuro laugh at her priceless reaction. She glared at them ruefully before she groaned, "That hurt…"
"Well, maybe it wouldn't have hurt so much if you stayed still," the older girl said with a wide grin. "Now do me a favor and don't move your head. I'm trying to put your hair up, if you didn't notice yet."
She sighed. "I don't see why I have to change my outfit and even my hairstyle for this mission. Gaara-sama said I could've left for Higure as I was dressed and fully packed, but you two had to stop me."
Temari raised an eyebrow. "Actually, Tenten, Gaara isn't really in a position to offer any fashion advice, or any tips on undercover work for that matter," she answered as she took out a white satin ribbon from a side drawer.
"Gaara's never been in an undercover mission, you see," Kankuro replied with a wide grin, "He's too conspicuous, what with that tattoo and gourd of his. More or less, Temari gets stuck with most of the needed undercover work."
The blonde nodded. She'd finally tied Tenten's hair up in a loose, casual-looking bun, and was fishing for something in her pocket. "Besides, someone's going to get suspicious if the assassin who was spotted attempting to kill the daimyo's lady guest looks strangely like the new girl in Higure. You've got to look somewhat different."
"Not like I won't be wearing a mask, Temari," Tenten pointed out.
She shrugged as she found what she was looking for: a black comb ornament made of lacquered wood. She set it gently in Tenten's hair and smiled triumphantly. "You're ready, now. No one would dream you're part of the rebel army against Akegata."
And she could only hope she was right.
So in a few hours she had arrived in Higure and learned she'd arrived even before the daimyo's daughter. She supposed it was for quite a few reasons: one, being that the route the girl must have taken skirted the camp completely, adding to their journey a good number of traveling hours; two, being that since she was an assassin, she had access to quite a few secrets to speedier movement.
Tenten wandered around the village, her dark brown eyes scanning every street sign. Gaara had told her before that he had contacts in Higure, one of them being the owner of a certain Kiritsubo Inn. "Ask for Mayuri," he had said, "And tell her the desert-dwellers need her aid." Being too proud to admit she didn't know her way around the place, she ambled past the busy people for at least an hour before finally she found herself at the front door of the Kiritsubo.
It was an ordinary-looking inn, with paper-paneled doors and windows lined with sweet-smelling balsa wood. She knocked at the front door, and a curvy, middle-aged woman with long, black curls greeted her. Tenten wore a pleasant smile as she said, "Good morning, I was looking for a woman named Mayuri…"
"I am Mayuri," replied the woman warily, "What is it you needed?"
She recalled Gaara's words, and echoed them to the woman. "The desert-dwellers need your aid," she answered.
Hearing this, the woman's brown eyes widened as she nodded. "Yes… please come in. We have much to say to each other," she said as she ushered Tenten into the Kiritsubo Inn. The door slid shut behind them.
Despite his seeming indifference to the world around him, Sasuke knew the outlying villages and their surroundings like the back of his hand. He was a few miles from Akegata, his homeland, which he had bypassed for the nth time since he left a few years ago. He was approaching the outskirts of Higure, a city-state known for its army's strength even in unarmed combat. He had never seen the daimyo or any of his cohorts, but he supposed he was efficient in his work; Higure had not seen a civil war since the turn of the century.
For some reason, it became some sort of tradition for him to stop there each time he neared it; when he had first left Akegata in the first year of his journey, he sought respite in its neighboring town, Higure. He had been there perhaps only three times in the course of his search for revenge, but it helped him forget what had happened before.
Listlessly, he approached the Emperor's vassal state. The thought of a good night's sleep plus the assurance his homicidal brother wouldn't think of finding him there was somewhat comforting, and he needed his rest. At the thought of his brother, he diverted his gaze. It wasn't something he liked reminiscing – Itachi's betrayal brought back the pain where he didn't want it. He would have gladly traded his life for another, any other. He was like a warrior clinging to a lost cause, and the odds were greatly set against him.
But even warriors needed to leave the battlefield once in a while.
A visit to Higure became too tempting to resist; he tried to call to mind the landscape so as to remember a small side road that would lead him back to the city. He looked around warily, as if to make sure no one had been watching him – but the side road was hardly ever taken, and with his katana and his lethal skill with it there was hardly much to be afraid of.
The road cut off as in a fork; one, a less traveled dirt road, led off farther into the north; the other, a wider road, wore the looks of a path tread often. Fresh, few hours-old footprints led off to Higure, scuffling a little at stray pebbles and twigs. They seemed to have been made by travelers' straw sandals, the kind wanderers had taken to wear for comfort. The same road the owner of these footprints had taken took anyone straight to the vassal state without passing through the gates. Did one like him make the prints: a straggler, an avenger, and a warrior with one purpose…?
Who else would have needed a path unmarked on any map, a road unused except by those used to life outside the sheltered, pampered villages? A merchant would have passed through the gates, as would have scholars or even magicians; but mere wanderers or perhaps thieves who had no business passing through were not often let into towns such as these. He barely dared hope, but he wondered if it was the truth or mere wishful thinking.
His face was void of expression as he walked towards the place, all the while wondering about the second set of footprints. The idea of one other like him seemed to entice him in some way he didn't quite understand. Maybe it was because, for the longest time, he had thought himself all alone in the world, all alone in his cause.
His obsidian eyes were set not on the path that lay before him, but on the continuing footmarks he walked alongside. He imagined himself walking in silence with one who shared his fate; it only ignited his curiosity more. But at the very least, he was comforted by the thought of having someone else who knew what it felt, who understood why he left.
Did he dare make a wish?
Overhead, starlings sped, casting their small, airy shadows on the ground before him. In the distance, he could hear the burbling of a brook or the sloshing of a stream. The wind whistled through the nooks and crannies in the leaves and trees, making a strange, mysterious sort of music that matched his thoughts at the moment.
He neared the village, and a few houses peeked through bushes and shrubbery. The footprints, too, cut off where the dirt of the road met the cobbled streets of the place. His brow furrowed at the sight – that could've only meant that whoever made them was still in Higure. Sasuke smiled, his first genuine smile in a long while.
Perhaps, if the stars were friendly, they would soon make these two paths cross.
The carriage rocked the daimyo's daughter and her watchful guardian lightly; the tousle roused the man from his half-sleep. For a few moments, he had to remind himself where he was, exactly – and remembered that he was sent on a mission to protect the girl while the wedding preparations were set. He remembered, too, that they were bound for the Empire's vassal state of Higure.
He sighed as he picked up his book, which had fallen to the floor sometime when he had dozed off. He brushed the dust from it gently and laid it on his lap. His eyes wandered to the young woman, only nineteen. Her soft pink hair, which had come free from its formal, tight bun somewhere along the way, fell down to her shoulders. Her eyes were closed, but Kakashi recalled to himself the exact, almost turquoise shade of green they were.
"You've grown so much, Sakura-sama," he said softly to her sleeping form, as a brother would to a younger sister. He had been her guardian since she was born, and had known her since her earliest childhood days. Through the years she'd changed so much… especially after the tragedy. He sighed to himself, pushing the thought out of his mind. He'd been once again entrusted with the task of caring for her, and he had to make sure all went well, for everyone's sakes.
"She's been troubled ever since, Kakashi-san," the daimyo told him, sadness in his jade green eyes, "Hasn't she? She never tells me anything of how she feels. She always greets me with a smile, and it worries me that she's holding back her emotions."
He nodded, a solemn expression on his face. "They had been friends, but since he left years ago it's as if she can't bring herself to forget," he said, choosing his words as carefully as he could.
"But why? She has other friends here in the court: Naruto, who's been a friend of hers since she was a child; Ino, whom she spends the most time with; Shikamaru and Chouji, who are always around and who try to cheer her up. But nothing seems to work," Sakura's father said in concern, "How can one person change another so much like this?"
He thought his words over before replying, "Perhaps her feelings for him were deeper than any of us ever realized, and when he left she could hardly believe it."
The father looked on in disappointment. "I've always been partial to the boy, I'd admit. He was so calm and collected, and he always knew exactly what to do or say in any situation. And I suppose you're right… Sakura always seemed rather fond of him. But I'm afraid he's dead to us now. There's no bringing him back, and we can't accept him even if he comes back himself."
"You're right, I suppose – we cannot be truly sure that he would stay loyal after what he did. But is it really right to arrange this marriage with the young nephew of Higure's daimyo when you're aware of this, of your daughter's feelings for another?" Kakashi asked him curiously.
He nodded. "Maybe because of this, she'll finally move on and forget him," he began, adding, "And it's up to you, Kakashi, to make sure all goes well."
"I'll do the best I can," he answered solemnly.
He gave another sigh, this one barely audible over the clopping of the horses' hooves on dry, barren roads and the turning of wheels. A sudden movement jostled the carriage once more, waking the young woman from her sleep. She looked up at him, yawned slightly, and asked, "Will we be arriving at Higure soon, Kakashi-san?"
"Not for another day yet, Sakura-sama. It'll be best if you return to sleep," he answered. He lifted his book back up to his eyes, but his eyes did not focus on the printed letters. Instead his brow furrowed with concern. If Sakura knew of his conversation with her father, would she have thought differently about the arranged marriage?
In any case, he decided it was for the best if he remained silent.
Sakura smiled wanly. "I'll try. And… Kakashi-san?"
"Yes?"
She smiled again. "Thanks for trying so hard to protect me like this. It means so much… both to me, and to my father." With those words, she leaned her head against the cushioned seat and returned to sleep.
"Have you spoken with him, Hinata?"
The young woman put down her calligraphy brush and turned to look at her father. They shared the same pearl-like eyes, though his were full of wisdom while hers were of gentleness. His hair was long and tied back, and he carried himself with a sort of commanding aura. She sighed, more from concern than from anything else. "Yes, I have, Otou-san," she replied quietly.
He didn't answer immediately, instead sitting beside her on the tatami mat. Finally, he asked, "And how did he react to the news?" His tone was expressionless, but she knew that inside he truly was concerned for her cousin. He stared at the scroll she had been writing on, but he didn't seem to focus on what she had written.
"Not to well," she replied hesitatingly. She put her fingertips to her lip, a habit she had taken to reassure herself. "He doesn't seem too excited about the idea at all. Perhaps it's a little too soon…? But I do not always understand Neji-nii-san."
He nodded. "It is difficult sometimes, but you have to understand him, Hinata. He is only twenty, and he's being forced into marriage. At such an age, very few would be prepared for such a commitment. It entails mostly business, when most people their age would have married for reasons like love, and the like."
"I don't know, Otou-san. Haven't all of the Hyuuga marriages been arranged? He should at least be thankful it isn't to a complete stranger. Hasn't he known Sakura-sama since he was a child?" she asked thoughtfully.
Her father chuckled at her reply. "They've seen each other only once, when they were around five, and they hated each other instantly. They fought the whole time."
Hinata paled at the point of information. "I didn't know that," she said meekly.
"It's all right, Hinata. They're more mature now. Hopefully they'll have gotten over such childish matters," he replied, a little apprehensively. "Besides, her father is in need of our help. He's aided us before, and it's our turn to help them. The union will be mutually beneficial."
She nodded. "Mutually beneficial," she echoed, adding, "To us and to Sakura-sama's parents. But certainly not to the ones to be married! In that case it isn't as beneficial as we think it to be."
He was silent for a moment, perhaps startled at his daughter's outburst. Finally, he rose and answered quietly, "There are some sacrifices that must be made for the greater good." With those cold words, he walked out the door, leaving her alone in the room.
Hinata laughed bitterly at his words. "There are some sacrifices that must be made for the greater good," she repeated as she picked up the calligraphy brush once more. Her quivering hands dipped the brush into the ink slowly, but in midair it slipped from her hands and onto the balsa wood table. A black stain formed where the brush's tip met the wood.
As she lifted the brush once more, she found the stain was irremovable; and she knew that, just like in real life, some mistakes could not be erased. No matter how hard you try, some things just never faded out of memory. The damage had already been done.
"What good would come from this, Otou-san?" she whispered, standing from where she was and leaving her unfinished calligraphy on the table.
Author's Note: It's slightly shorter than the previous chapter, but hopefully it made better sense. Okay, Tenten's scene first: the Kiritsubo is actually a wing in the Emperor's palace, a side of the palace where his ladies-in-waiting lived. The sentence "The desert-dwellers need your aid" comes from the fact that people who needed to deliver private messages needed to use code words so as not to arouse the suspicion of others who might be able to overhear. Hinata's next: the scene with the calligraphy brush at the end was symbolic of her thoughts on what was going to happen to Neji.
Now that that's done, please leave a review and tell me what you think of it so far! I know it's probably going slower than you guys would prefer, but this is really intended to be a long (maybe exceeding fifteen chapters) fic. So, taking that into account, it's not going as slow as you think. Anyway, I'd like your honest opinions on it! Thanks.