Crown & Anchor
by Nilladriel
This chapter was written with brownies in mind.
(Don't worry, the above sentence will make sense when you hit the end scene.)
This chapter is unbetaed, because everyone's busy with their own lives right now (including me, honestly). If you spot any mistakes, feel free to tell me.
Chapter Eight: New Game
"What the fuck," Kiba said, "are you wearing."
For once, he wasn't drunk, which he normally was when he hung around Naruto. He said it helped.
Naruto rolled his eyes. "It's a costume," he said.
"What are you, ten?" Kiba asked, incredulous. "You look like a mummy."
Naruto flipped him the bird. "What?" he said. "It's a Halloween dance, so of course I'm gonna dress up."
"It's a dance for the kids," Kiba stressed. "You know. The ones who aren't adults?"
Naruto tugged on one of the scarves and ignored him. "I've always wanted to be a ninja," he admitted to Kiba, eyes wide and voice quiet. "I'd dream about it all the time when I was a kid. I'd be the greatest, strongest ninja ever!" He waved an arm, nearly blinding Kiba with his cardboard sword. "And then my Dad was all, Naruto, ninjas don't exist, please stop climbing the roof."
Kiba stepped out of range of Naruto's sword. He gave the blond man an odd look.
"What?" Naruto huffed.
"Nothing," Kiba said. "I mean, you've never mentioned your--anyway," he added hastily, "you look nothing like a ninja."
"I do too. I'm covered in black and everything."
"How many black scarves did you buy?" Kiba returned. He looked up, down, up again, and then his eyes widened. "Holy shit, did you borrow one of Lee's jumpsuits? You loser--"
Naruto tackled him to the floor. When Hinata stepped into the bedroom, saying, "I'm done," Naruto had pinned Kiba and was trying to viciously tickle him into surrender with the sword.
Hinata said, "Oh," in a small voice, and blushed.
Naruto looked down. Kiba, red-faced, roared, "GET OFF ME," or tried to, except he couldn't stop laughing. Naruto took pity on him and rolled off. He gave Hinata a grin full of victory. "Hey, Hinata! You done?"
Kiba wheezed and clutched his stomach. Hinata looked torn between concern and embarrassed giggling. She chose to answer Naruto. "Yes," she said. "It should be thick enough, now...."
"Yes! Blood!" Naruto cheered, and trailed after Hinata. "Hey, how come you're not wearing a costume? You're supervising too, aren't you?"
"W-well, I... didn't know we could," Hinata said.
"Aw," Naruto said. "You'd look great in costume." They reached the kitchen table. "Oh, wow. That looks great, Hinata."
Hinata smiled. The fake blood sat in a chipped plastic container she'd found in Naruto's cupboards. It was the perfect color: Just dark enough to give a vague nod towards realism while still managing to be completely cheesy and tacky. Hinata dipped her fingers in it and began to apply a liberal amount to Naruto's black costume.
"What? Are you a dead ninja, now?"
Kiba had recovered. He was staying away from Naruto, or at least as much as one could in such a cramped kitchen, and was eyeing the sword the way one might glare at an enemy.
"Well, I couldn't decide if I wanted to be a ninja or a zombie," Naruto said. "So I'm going to be a ninja-zombie! A fresh one."
Kiba looked astounded at Naruto's stupidity, as if he'd never noticed it before.
"That's very creative," Hinata said.
"Right," Kiba said. "Creative. Naruto, how old are you?"
"Shut up," Naruto said, rolling his eyes. "You sure you don't want to whip up a costume, Hinata?"
"It's fine," Hinata said. "We should leave soon. It's nearly six thirty."
"You sure you don't want to come?" Naruto asked Kiba. He twirled his sword with probably too much skill, and Kiba eyed him warily.
"And watch kids dry-hump each other to bad music?" Kiba asked. "Hell no."
"... Yeah," Naruto said, thoughtfully, and made a face. "You know, Hinata, if we dick around and make you a costume, we can get there late."
He beamed.
Hinata had no choice but to to agree--not when she was faced with that brilliant smile.
It was nine.
Naruto was at the far back of the cafeteria. With all the tables gone, the sea of students, and the lights dimmed, it was artificially narrow--a long tunnel rushing towards an epicenter of loud music and crowded bodies. On the other end was the relatively quiet sanctuary, where Naruto stood guard over a table full of soda, food, and punch. The pizza was already all gone, because they'd skipped dinner to throw together Hinata's costume and, well, it was Iruka's fault anyway for trusting Naruto with the food.
It was kind of cute, really, watching middle-schoolers play at being adults. Some rapper was yelling about windows, walls, and balls, and Naruto winced. He wondered who had filtered the playlist this time.
He shifted. Someone--Kin, he thought, or one of Moegi's sisters--had ran off with his sword. He was bored. Hinata was off playing therapist, because middle-school dances were cesspools of drama and self-absorbed little brats. Iruka was guarding the main doors like a gargoyle. No one was allowed in or out until the dance was over. He'd been there for a while, because Hinata was too nice and Naruto was too easy-going.
Without turning around, Naruto said, "Oi, Konohamaru, if you're going to spike the drinks, at least be less obvious about it."
Konohamaru froze. He seemed to be a pirate, except that he had goggles on. So maybe he was a confused swimmer who happened to be wearing beads and a floppy shirt.
Lacking a sword, Naruto had to threaten him with a plastic cup half-filled with punch. "Seriously. If you want to get drunk, get it done outside of school."
Konohamaru turned to glare. The beads didn't help. "You can't order me around!" he said.
Naruto's jaw dropped. "I'm a teacher," he said. "You're a student. Just give me that, Konohamaru. I'm serious. I'm letting you off easy by not reporting your sorry butt right now."
Konohamaru's glare turned sulky. "Why are you so pissy lately?" he said.
"... The hell? Making sure kids don't break the rules is pissy, now?" Naruto muttered. He stepped forward and grabbed the small bottle from Konohamaru's unresisting hand. "Go on. Go and... dance, hang with your friends, whatever," he said.
He looked at the little bottle, saw the clear, viscous liquid inside, and felt his lips tighten. Well, shit. "Was I this bad as a kid?" he asked, but Konohamaru had already disappeared into the crowd. Naruto shrugged--oh, well, what can you do--and tucked the bottle into the folds of his costume. He leaned against the wall, trying not to feel like some sort of angsty, brooding hero.
Across the cafeteria, the math teacher was waving at him. Naruto waved back. The dance didn't end too late, but he'd have to stay and help clean up after, probably. By eating all the left-over food.
He made a net with his fingers to cradle his head in. There was a sudden, volumous half-silence as a slow song began playing. Students filtered off the dance floor, occupying the sidelines as the center became filled with young couples.
Naruto watched for a while, and felt depressed. He couldn't believe so many middle-school kids had more success in their love-lives than he did.
The math teacher was still waving at him. Naruto waved back, again. It might be some weird signal for Naruto to get his ass over there--maybe something was happening--but Naruto felt his place in life was here, near the food. And if he stood and frowned for a bit longer, maybe he'd eventually get as good as Neji or Gaara at brooding.
Not that Naruto had any reason to be brooding. He thought, briefly, of dark eyes, and then scowled. Right. No reason to be brooding at all, besides the fact that his life very suddenly resembled some TV drama.
When the loud, hysteric "FUCK YOU!" rang through the cafeteria, Naruto dropped his cup. The drink spilled on his thigh and mixed with the fake blood.
There should have been quiet to suitably stress the dramatic moment. Instead, they got Caleb Kane going mad, which was probably close enough. Naruto said, "Huh," and watched as people rushed to the front. Another "FUCK!" echoed, louder than the first.
"Yeah, okay," Naruto agreed. He moved. The windows blurred past, and he cleared the barrier seperating the different levels of the cafeteria. He pushed through the students, and stepped in just in time to interrupt a swinging fist with his hip.
At least they were just kids, Naruto thought, so the bruise won't be too bad, right? And then he reached down and easily shoved the boys' shoulders apart.
"Right, no, stop," Naruto said, and then registered their faces.
You're shitting me, he thought but did not say, and stared hard at Konohmaru's small, round eyes. Udon and Moegi emerged from the crowd. They eached grabbed an arm. Naruto gave them a grateful look, and then focused his attention on Konohamaru's opponent, who was still struggling. Naruto tightened his grip.
"Just stop it, Zaku," he said.
He was a year younger than Konohamaru and his friends, but a good deal bigger. Not a student Naruto knew well, though he vaguely recalled a particularly well-done project, back when they'd done those giant, paper-mache islands.
He'd participated in a lot of fights, but it was the first time he'd been the one to break them up. He wondered if this was what his teachers had felt, the exasperation and resignation sitting heavily in his stomach, a sort of annoyed What is it this time? feeling dominating.
He struggled to remember what happened after--a lot of talking, a lot of vague threatening, except the old man had been rich enough to keep him out of actual trouble. Hm.
"Right," Naruto said. "Uh--come on. Let's go."
He looked around, at the sea of little faces, and heaved a sigh. "Show's over, folks... look, the music's still playing, right?" He grinned at them, and then felt a weighty frown settle on his face face as he led Zaku and Konohamaru away, shooing off hopeful tagalongs.
Judging by how fast people moved away, his expression probably resembled Sasuke's.
The sudden thought didn't help to improve his mood at all.
He waved away the math teacher, who had the vague, lost expression of someone who wants to help but isn't exactly sure how. Naruto felt the same, even if he wasn't exactly showing it, but he made a sure line for one person who'd definitely, definitely know what to do.
"Oi, Iruka! I've got a present for you!"
On either side of him, the boys stiffened. They looked like doomed rabbits. Naruto tried to feel sorry for them, and failed.
Iruka straightened. He'd started off the night as a vampire in a blanket masquerading as a cape, but somewhere along the way he'd lost the fake teeth and the blanket was missing. Currently he was a pissed-off teacher in a rumpled suit, and Naruto cheerfully shoved Zaku and Konohamaru forward.
"They were fighting," he said. "I don't know who started it, or what happened. I just pulled these guys off each other."
Iruka, who had been glaring at the two boys, switched his glare to Naruto.
Naruto shrugged. Unfortunately, having grown up a trouble-maker, his trying-for-innocent shrugs were the exact kind that made Iruka's eyes narrow.
Iruka took a deep breath.
Naruto said, in a sufficiently brisk, professional tone: "It looks like you have the situation under control."
Then he fled.
He wandered down the hallway with vague intentions of going back to supervising. When Hinata's quiet, "What happened?" sounded to his left, Naruto whipped his head hard and winced, rubbing at his neck.
The lackadaisical costume they'd finally scrounged for her consisted of a dress, wings constructed from wispy fabric and, bizarrely, army bitch-boots. Maybe she was a rebellious fairy.
Noticing his gaze, Hinata flushed, tugging at the dress. It wasn't entirely indecent, but Hinata had the sort of figure that made any piece of clothing halfway scandalous. Naruto grinned. "Don't worry," he said. "You fill it way better than Sakura did."
Hinata looked up. "S-Sakura?" she asked.
He grinned. "Anyway, it was just a fight. No big deal. Um. I don't think it was a big deal, but it's weird, you know? When you're the teacher...."
He trailed off.
Hinata said, "It's natural to worry."
Naruto said, "Yeah," and fell silent. They stopped at the threshold. One step more and they entered a world of music and bad lighting; one step back and they were closer to the exit.
Too bad Iruka was in that direction. From here, Naruto could hear the faint echoes of Iruka's voice. It wasn't harsh; Iruka couldn't do harsh if it killed him, but he managed disappointed and loud in a way that killed everyone else with guilt.
Something was up with Konohamaru.
The thought wasn't sudden. It just surfaced, quietly and truthful, and Naruto nodded along to himself, ignoring Hinata's brief, questioning look.
He was going to do something. This was another thought, just as truthful. Naruto didn't bother nodding to it. It was too obvious. When someone he was close to was hurt, he helped. And maybe Konohamaru wasn't close like Sakura was, or his other friends, but....
In a weird way, he and Konohamaru were almost family, since Sarutobi had, if not directly presided over, then at least paid for, Naruto's upbringing. The old man was a distant figure, a leader who made suits look dusty just by wearing them, who had his worries scarred into the wrinkles of his face. And Konohamaru was the old man's grandson.
It wasn't much of a connection.
It was enough of a connection. And like Naruto had ever needed much of a reason to butt into people's lives, anyway.
Hinata looked left. Naruto followed her gaze to find Moegi and Udon, the two of them hunched together. Udon looked contrite; Moegi was yelling, her voice almost as loud as the bass. Hinata kept looking, and Naruto understood.
The rest of the students were back to dancing, like nothing had happened. The DJ was back to rap, and Naruto said to Hinata, "Good idea, I'll go talk to them. Guard the drinks, would you?"
Hinata nodded, graceful, as if she were a woman in a power-suit instead of a shimmery, golden dress.
They--or at least Moegi--fell quiet when he approached. Udon hunched his shoulders so severely they almost described a v. Moegi just looked at Naruto. She was a mermaid, the shimmering skirt of what was probably a ridiculously expensive costume fanning out in blues and greens.
Moegi said, "It was Zaku's fault."
"Uh, I don't care," Naruto said. "What's bothering Konohamaru?"
The two of them looked at each other.
"Look," Naruto said. "Konohamaru's not a model student, but he's not the sort of smuggle in alcohol or start fights. Something's going on."
Naruto looked at their expressions, wary and hopeful all mixed in together, and realized this was about as likely to work as Monday mornings were to be good. Besides, this was their Hallowe'en dance, and he didn't want to ruin it by worrying them. Well, ruin it more than it was.
So he straightened and said, "You know, I'm going to visit the old man... to visit Sarutobi this break. Tell Konohamaru that, would you?" And then, before they could answer: "Do either of you know where my sword is?"
They did. Naruto told them thank you, but not for the sword.
After the dance, Kiba dropped him off near eleven. Naruto turned down his offer to go for drinks. "I'm sleeping," he said, and affected a yawn. It turned real, and his jaw cracked. He winced.
Hinata gave him a suspicious look, and then blushed and looked away when he returned it. "Okay," she said.
Kiba accepted his excuse with a shrug and a "See you later then." Naruto shut the car door, made a face at him, and headed home. His feet dragged. Maybe he shouldn't have eaten the entire pack of biscuits. Or all the left-over pig-in-a-blankets. Or drank all that soda.
But. Well. Naruto was, if nothing else, loyal to his stomach.
His apartment was dark, and quiet. Naruto tugged off his costume as he went, leaving trails of black behind him. He remembered the bowl of fake blood still on his table, and figured he'd just clean it later. His face felt weird from the make-up--thick and oily, like he was a teenager again and battling acne. He rubbed at his eyes with a knuckle, probably smearing the fake-bruises.
He threw Konohamaru's bottle into the trash can, wishing he could get rid of the brat's damn issues as easily. Next it was the shower, where his jagged, zombified reflection made tired faces at him. He grabbed a cloth, squirted it with hand-soap, and scrubbed until it was Uzumaki Naruto staring back, not some cheesy zombie-ninja.
He made yet another mental note to just buy a new, proper mirror already, and then forgot it by the time he was turning the shower on.
He took a long time in the shower.
By the time he got out, it was half past eleven, and his body was suspended in that state between satiated exhaustion and stubborn alertness. He battled with the toothpaste tube until it resignedly yielded a bare amount of blue, mint-fresh goodness, made a mental note to buy more toothpaste, and forgot that, too, by the time he rinsed out his mouth.
On the way to bed, he tripped over the pile of photo albums by the bedside table.
It was a good excuse not to sleep just yet. He collapsed on the bean bag Gaara had given him, pulled the nearest album onto his lap, and flipped it open. He ignored the throbbing of his toes.
The corners of the album were already exhibiting signs of abuse; they were worn and soft. The rest of the album still looked new, though, the photos sealed in clear plastic. The inside slip read TO: Uzumaki Naruto.
Just below that, there was a FROM: accompanied by empty space. Sarutobi hadn't signed his name, and Naruto wasn't inclined to do it for him.
This one was his favorite, because it was all pictures of his Dad.
Naruto wasn't blind. A lot of the photos were altered--faces cut off, people left out. The old man was still pretending he was some brat that needed protecting, and he knew he was being presented with a carefully censored Namikaze Minato, all the bad parts edited out. Still.
That wouldn't matter soon, thanks to Neji.
Naruto settled back and looked carefully through the pages, taking his time with each image.
A grainy picture of a young Dad, back when he wasn't Dad and was still just boy-Minato, dressed in those ridiculously short shorts that had passed as uniform, his hair slicked back. Or older, playing basketball, his hair shocking bright against the dark-headed boys around him. And an easy favorite--Dad and the old man, looking shocked that the camera had caught them, his Dad holding a blond baby clumsily and looking embarrassed--what do I do with this, why am I holding it, why are you taking that picture?
Naruto suspected the blond baby was him, but hoped it wasn't. He was so... pink. Maybe it was a baby thing, but. Well. It was like that time he'd assigned portraits, and Moegi had done hers in red and pink and orange and then cried afterwards because Konohamaru said it looked terrible.
His Dad dressed in suits often, Naruto noted. He didn't remember that. He looked good in them, though. Naruto never had. He could reduce Gucci to something off the department store rack, just by wearing it. It was a talent.
Naruto looked down at the photos and felt ridiculously, sappily sentimental. Any moment now cheesy music would start playing: soft piano accompanied by low, mournful violin, and then the commercial break would start. It would probably feature a happy family smiling around a dinner table. Naruto snorted.
He leaned back in the bean bag, shifting around until it obligingly supported his neck. The photo album was a comfortable weight on his lap.
Winter break was coming. Next month would be full of frantic grading, and long nights spent writing comments about students on endless streams of report cards, and he could finally assign that long-term project he'd been wanting to do since last year, and then--
Freedom.
Visiting Sarutobi might mean the opposite, though.
Not that the old man had any power over him. Not really. Except that Naruto had always lived his life, with his little rebellions, with the vague feeling that these were all concessions. Little annoyances that Sarutobi allowed, as long as...
As long as. Something.
Then there was--what was it that bastard Sasuke had said? That thing about getting Naruto away from his friends. But, well, he'd hung out with Sakura since that--since that, and her super-senses hadn't picked out any more creepy men following them around. He'd asked her plenty, until she got annoyed. And it wasn't like he had told anyone specifically where he was going, besides Konohamaru.
And why was he so paranoid, anyway?
Naruto closed the photo album. What he needed was a good night's sleep. Everything would look better tomorrow, especially if he had ramen for breakfast.
Konohamaru called the next day, when Naruto was at Neji's house.
Naruto spent the first few seconds gaping, his hand frozen mid-air. His forkful of pasta wavered, and he said, "Konohamaru?"
Across the table, Neji gave Naruto a bland look. Then he got up and left the room, taking his tea with him. Naruto tried not to feel like he'd just kicked Neji out of his own kitchen, since technically it was Neji who had kicked himself out of his own kitchen.
"Konohamaru? Seriously? How in the--how'd you get my number?" Naruto asked, suspicious. He put his fork down.
"I asked. And who else would it be?" Konohamaru grumbled, and yeah, even through the phone the bratty tone was the same. Naruto relaxed.
"So, uh, what's up?" Naruto said, aiming for casual and landing somewhere around adult who's trying way too hard.
"Whatever," Konohamaru said. "Apparently I'm suspended, by the way."
"Well, you were fighting," Naruto said. That was the usual punishment, he vaguely remembered. Student handbooks were parceled together with the agendas the school gave to all students, and Naruto had read it in its entirety because he was friends with Iruka, and Iruka was scary.
He helped himself to the last of the chicken while he waited for Konohamaru to speak, which happened to be on Neji's plate. It wasn't like the other man would mind. Well, too much.
"I just--I think something's... I want to know if Granddad is okay," Konohamaru said. "I think something's up. Um. Something big."
"I'll ask him when I see him," Naruto promised. "And if he won't tell me, I'll find out anyway."
"Okay. Um. Thanks," Konohamaru said, and didn't hang up.
Instead, a damn broke. "Every time he calls, he asks if I'm okay, or if I'm safe. He makes me check in with my bodyguards, like, every hour. One of them even sleeps in my room now! And before he didn't even call that often but now he's calling every day and it's weird and I just want him back to normal. And I want to be normal. I had to sneak out to get to that party yesterday--"
Which explained the bad costume.
"--and when Iruka tol' me and Zaku to go home my bodyguards were waiting outside. And--once, I wasn't sure, I heard my parents saying that something was going wrong so maybe it's the company. Or something," Konohamaru added with the uncertain tone of someone who should know the work of their parents, but can't be bothered to care and now suddenly should.
Very quietly, Konohamaru added, "And he keeps asking about you, too. Well. He asks about you a lot. But. More than usual."
Which explained Konohamaru's general pissy attitude towards him. Huh.
Naruto carefully transferred all the sauce on Neji's plate onto his. "I'll find out for you," he said. "That's a promise."
Predictably, Konohamaru didn't say thank you. Naruto chewed away the silence and a forkful of pasta.
"I won't get into any more fights," Konohamaru said suddenly. "Or do anything stupid."
"Okay," Naruto agreed. "That's good. You're still cleaning up on Monday, but I'll make you guys hot chocolate."
Konohamaru laughed, maybe because he thought Naruto was joking, and hung up. Naruto snapped his phone shut and told the door, "You can come in now."
Neji walked in. His tea-cup was empty, and he had the serene expression of someone who has just been eavesdropping and feels absolutely no guilt. Then he saw his plate, and his eyes narrowed.
Naruto said, "You're a really good cook," and attacked his meal.
Neji answered, very politely, "Thank you. I'm not buying you ramen for the rest of the month."
After dinner, the two men went to the living-room. Both sat on the floor rather than the couch, because the floor was more comfortable.
Neji opened the folder he had taken with him and spread the contents on the floor. He'd bound his hair back in a messy pony-tail, but now random strands were slipping free, running across his face and trailing across his shoulders. Naruto surprised himself by not noticing, just thinking vaguely of twelve days ago, and then told himself he wasn't keeping track of how much time had gone by since--that.
"This is information on your father's childhood," Neji was saying, indicating the first pile. "His school records, any certificates he attained, any awards, and some articles he wrote."
Naruto picked up a paper. GYM INSTALLS NEW BASKETBALL HOOPS, he read, and underneath: BY NAMIKAZE MINATO.
"What a cool Dad," he said.
Neji ignored him. "I couldn't find much information on his life after he received his university degree," he said. "Either your father didn't want anyone to know about his life... or someone else didn't."
"What do you think?" Naruto asked. He was reading through the article and discovering that his Dad was sadly incapable of making basketball hoops interesting. He put it down, mentally apologizing to his dead relative, and picked up a different piece of paper, which told him his Dad had been a straight-A student. Maybe Naruto had inherited his brains from his mother, whoever she was.
His mother. Sometimes it hit Naruto that, as well as a blue-eyed Dad hazy in his memories, he also had a mother. This hit felt like a full-body blow. Naruto stared without seeing at the A- Namikaze Minato had once upon a time earned for Calculus.
"I'm not sure. I ran into a lot of falsified information and dead-ends. Someone must have been covering up."
"Did he marry my Mom?" Naruto asked absently.
Neji started. "No. If he did, I couldn't find any records or certificates. But...."
He thumbed through the folder and retrieved a single sheet of paper, which he showed Naruto.
It was a clip from a newspaper article. The article itself was about a concert. So was the picture, really, which was old as well. The lighting was horrible.
And then Naruto's gaze was drawn to the corner, where he saw familiar, messy hair. The head was turned towards a girl, or a woman, Naruto couldn't tell. Naruto stared at her black-and-white smile until his vision blurred.
Next to him, Neji shifted, perhaps a little uncomfortable.
"How'd you find this?" Naruto asked. His voice didn't break, but it was a near thing.
"I had my people comb through likely newspaper archives," Neji said carefully. "This was the closest piece of relevance."
"Oh," Naruto said. "Um. Thank you."
After a while, Neji said, "Naruto. My team has found everything from your father's dental habits to his college debts, but--"
"I know. I know," Naruto said. His smile, when he looked at Neji, was grateful and slightly sad. "I'm visiting old man Sarutobi, you know. I figure he owes me some answers. But... this is good, too, you know."
Neji's lips twitched into a smile. "I see."
"Okay. So, um, what else did you find?"
"If you remember, on the phone, I mentioned that Namikaze Minato... that your father was the protege of three underground leaders. I have their names, and I gathered what public information there is on them... but nothing more. Anything else might be risky."
"Sounds like it," Naruto muttered, impressed. "So who are they?"
Neji withdrew a photograph, bright and glossy and colorful.
"The legendary three," he said. "Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Orochimaru."
And Naruto said, "What. Jiraiya's a famous writer! Of eroti--"
He registered the last name Neji had uttered. Naruto jerked his head. "Orochimaru. Orochimaru. You're kidding me. That bastard sent men to follow me!"
Neji put the photograph down and pressed his knuckles against his temple. "Naruto," he said, slowly.
"And Tsunade has huge knockers! Was she really a crimi--"
"Naruto."
"Huh? Um, what?" Naruto said.
"Kindly inform me that I'm hallucinating," Neji said, "and that you did not just tell me Orochimaru had men following you." He stood forcefully.
"Uh," Naruto said. "Where are you going?"
"To get tea! Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" Neji snapped, and then stalked off, apparently too incensed to hear the answer to his own question. Naruto watched him go, and shrugged.
"What's his deal?" he asked the photograph. Tsunade's breasts, while remarkably tantalizing, didn't offer up any explanations no matter how much he stared. Naruto said, "Whatever," and sat back, going through his Dad's early school records.
While Neji took his frustration out on tea, Naruto discovered that his Dad looked constipated in every single one of his yearbook photos; that he'd only gotten two B's and one C in his entire life, all in middle-school; that he chose the most unremarkable subjects ever for his school newspaper articles; and that he looked completely idiotic in the team uniforms of old--but then, everyone did, with shorts that tiny. Naruto rolled his eyes.
"You didn't have to do this, you know," he said, when he heard the door open again. When he tilted his head, he saw Neji standing near the door, a tray balanced on an open palm.
Neji's expression changed from residual anger to thoughtfulness. "We're friends," he said.
"Yeah, but.... When I asked if you could find out more about my Dad, I wasn't expecting this much. I mean." Naruto picked up a slim packet of papers, held together by a paper-clip. "You seriously weren't lying when you said you had his dental records."
"Why would I lie about that?" Neji asked, honestly confused. He set the tray down.
Naruto sighed, and reminded himself that this was Neji, who didn't understand the concept of too much information and had routinely spent his academic career trimming novella-length monstrosities into really, really long essays. "Just. Thanks. For going this far."
Neji poured the tea. Naruto took his cup and sat on the arm of the couch, looking out the window to the garden.
"When we first met," Neji said, "I punched you."
"Huh?" Naruto said. "Oh, yeah. That fight was my win, for the record."
"Why did you talk to me, all those years afterwards?" Neji pressed.
"Because that's what friends do," Naruto said.
"And, when my uncle...." Neji trailed off. "And Gaara. You helped Gaara."
"Yes? Of course?" Naruto said, confused.
"You see," Neji said, serenely.
Naruto looked down, at the papers scattered on the floor: each a little piece of the puzzle that was his father.
"Oh," he said, dumbly.
Neji shifted, suddenly remembering he was angry. "Friends," Neji said, tone acidic, "also tell each other when they've been followed."
"They do?" Naruto asked, and winced, thinking of Sakura. "Oh. Um. Yeah. Sorry about that. It wasn't that big a deal. I beat one of them up and they went away, I think."
"Only you would say that," Neji said, mysteriously calm.
"Well, it wasn't," Naruto insisted.
His eyes fell on the photograph--of the legendary three, or whatever. Maybe it was just because they were upside-down and slanted from his perch, but aside from Tsunade's chest, they didn't look particularly impressive--or legendary, or whatever. Jiraiya's suit was too big and Orochimaru looked vaguely sick, his pinched expression suggesting a permanent hangover.
And then Naruto said, "Wait. Neji. Neji. Aren't these three supposed to be dead!?"
"I was wondering when you would remember that," Neji said.
The papers had been put away, the folder inserted into a plastic slip Naruto could later take home. They were back in the kitchen, where Naruto was mixing together brownies from scratch in a vague apology for stealing bits of Neji's dinner. Naruto figured he'd take the leftovers to Sakura later and gloat, and then probably get punched for his generosity.
"I don't have much to tell you," Neji said, watching bemusedly as Naruto measured out another cup of baking chocolate. "I attempted, of obviously--"
"Obviously," Naruto muttered.
"--to gather as much information as I could, but apparently my uncle caught wind of my activities and instructed me to stop."
Naruto dumped the chocolate into a bowl. "That serious, huh?"
"It was a prudent suggestion. I wasn't exactly being discreet."
"So did you listen to him?" Naruto asked knowingly, reaching for a cooking pot.
"No," Neji said, and smirked. "I simply found--alternate methods to pursue my inquiries. Unfortunately, I didn't get many answers."
"Because you were sneaking around?"
"Because there weren't many to find." Neji fell silent as Naruto stirred the mixture, waiting for it to melt in the pot. The smell permeating the room was heavenly.
"You're making a lot."
"Sakura really likes my brownies," Naruto answered, absent-minded. Neji smirked.
"This is what I know: Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Orochimaru built a reputation founded on a fair mix illegal interprises... though they never had much luck with gambling, for some obscure reason." Neji shrugged. "They were the legendary three. I don't know when or how your father gained enough power to be considered their most prized student--"
"Underling," Naruto interrupted again. Neji made a dry, humored sound.
"Yes."
"So how'd they--um--not die?"
"The Uchiha worked with the government to target the legendary three. Don't ask me why. They played business partners and supplied information, enough for the government to take action. But one of the raids went wrong."
"Wave, right? The raid was in Wave."
Naruto hadn't spoken the name of that city in so long. Sarutobi still lived there, didn't he? And that was where the old house was, sequestered from everywhere else with only that lonely road leading in and out.
"How did you...?"
"Lucky guess. Give me that pan," Naruto said, pointing.
Neji did. "Naruto...."
"It's kind of interesting, in a really fucked-up way," Naruto said, talking easily over him. "So? The raid."
"I don't know." Neji hesitated. "Your father died. The legendary three disappeared, apparently for long enough that they were taken for dead."
"And no one figured it out? Even when Jiraiya showed up and made a big splash writing about heaving bosoms and slick rosebuds?" Naruto asked.
Neji made an undignified sound, a snort caught before it could escape. "It's strange," he said, very seriously, "but people never made the connection between Jiraiya the former crime lord and Jiraiya the author of erotica. Furthermore, it could just be coincidence--there's no guarantee they're the same person."
"And, I mean, Orochimaru," Naruto went on, ignoring him.
"Actually," Neji admitted, "I thought he was dead as well, until you suddenly told me Orochimaru had men following you."
"... Oh. Um." Naruto knelt to open Neji's oven.
"Yes. Oh."
"I never would have guessed it. You're taking it well," Naruto observed, putting the pan in the middle of the oven. He closed it.
"As long as I think of it as an absurd twist to one of Lee's horrible action movies," Neji said, "I'm fine."
"You, too, huh. Only I keep imagining TV dramas. Okay, let's give the brownies twenty minutes. I'm going to call Sakura and give her a heads-up. She doesn't like it when I randomly drop by, it's really weird."
Neji nodded, and then visibily hesitated. "Naruto," he said.
"Yeah?" Naruto said, hitting speed-dial one and waiting for his best friend to pick up.
"For you, this has the very real potential of threatening your current lifestyle. Be careful."
"Because I happen to be the son of a former... whatever Dad was?" Naruto said, frowning.
"No," Neji said, but before he could elaborate, Sakura answered the phone, and Naruto turned away to focus on the conversation. Neji didn't bring the subject up again.