Date written: 14/06/10 – 25/06/10

Posted on FanFiction: 25/06/10

A/N: Man, such a tiny reception . . . I feel unwanted now.

Doesn't stop me from posting new chapters, though. More, my muse, more!

- CHAPTER 3 -

Unseen Scars

"You know what I heard? I heard that the demon almost died last night."

"Almost died?"

"Yeah. Well, actually his heart stopped for a full minute, then started beating again."

"And how do you know this?"

"My girlfriend was on duty that night. She told me that the kid actually came back from the dead, as if it were an intervention from God Himself!"

"More like the Devil, man. I hate thinking that he's . . . immortal."

"That's just unnatural, huh?"

He grunted and drank the rest of his ale.

Mizuki sat on the far side of the bar, eavesdropping on the gossips and whispers of drunkards. Some of their speech were slurry and hard to discern, but he always came here when he was in need of a place to clear his head and listen to old folktales and ninja adventures. It was all he could do these days. He had been suspended from the Academy after one of his disciplinary lessons went a little too far. Two more weeks and he'd be back, and he'd be sure that the snot-nosed brat had his mouth sealed shut. No one messes with him. No one.

The fact remained that he had a lot of free time and extra money in his hand. He couldn't very well spend it all on drinks and hookers, but he hadn't been the same ever since the death of his only girlfriend, Tsubaki. They had been fifteen, young, and very much in love. Mizuki had first thought that it'd be just a fling, but Tsubaki turned it more than that. Before he knew it, he couldn't stop thinking about her, and he was sure that this predicament also went the other way. His love for her was probably his saving light from the path of darkness he had been about to take. It was because of Tsubaki that he refused Orochimaru's offer to get stronger, not believing his talks of seeing the potential to do great things in him. His preaches just irked Mizuki the wrong way. But his refusal, whether it was for Tsubaki or not, had been a good call, because Orochimaru defected no less than three years later, two months before the Kyuubi attack.

The Kyuubi . . .

After the funeral for the ones who died on that fateful night, Mizuki began his plot to do vengeance. He didn't care if the boy was merely the vessel and also the sole heir of the Yondaime Hokage; he wished justice for his lover's unneeded death, and by the Gods he'd do everything in his power to fulfill it. But he didn't take this as blunt as the other haters in the village. No, he wanted to do this alone. It was vengeance he sought, vengeance for the woman he loved and the future they could've had together, not vengeance for the others who died that night. This was personal. And he wished to do this personally.

He waited, bided his time for the exact moment where killing the boy was as easy as counting to ten. Others had come for the boy's head, and he made sure that these attempts were foiled before the boy or even his mother realized it. The Sandaime might've discovered his actions, but it was unlikely. Mizuki didn't care either way, though. If the old geezer did find out, then there would be less suspicion on him when it was his turn; if the old geezer did not, then Mizuki would remain as a neutral party, neither hostile nor friendly. A perfect scenario for a dagger in the crowd.

Mizuki had been careful, too. His constant observance of the demon boy and his mother's abode sparked the attention of a few ANBU who had been assigned week-long protection missions in intervals, but it was a good thing that they were willing to stop and learn his motives first than going all arrest-first-questions-later mode. He took this as a chance, so when the next bold wannabe-assassin came knocking on the Uzumaki household's door—literally, in fact—Mizuki acted faster than the ANBU duo stationed that day. He made quick work of the culprit, apprehended him while stating he broke the law of civilians requiring special permits to have ninja equipment in their possession (in this case, explosive tags, a poisoned dagger, and smoke bombs), and did the subsequent textbook protocol when taking a criminal to jail. The ANBU gave him some leeway after that. Not enough to display full trust—Mizuki doubted that they'd trust anyone other than the Hokage and each other—but it made it easier for him to study their work hours and shifts. Nobody kills the demon boy other than him. Nobody.

He had been planning the kidnapping for almost a year. His intellect may not be as up to par as the Nara strategists, but if someone gave him at least six months to think of a foolproof plan, then expect the plan coming together nicely. Mizuki made sure to take in every angle, every possibility, every wrong thing that could happen as the plan progressed, and eliminate every fault he could find. And it all worked flawlessly.

He rushed into the forest, wanting to kill the boy without alerting people from his screams. He wanted to show no mercy to the demon as it had done to Tsubaki and the village. The boy's screams were deaf to his ears; all he heard was the agony of the demon, the sound that he reveled in. He punched and kicked and stabbed and slashed and burned the demon until it looked nothing more than a lump of bloody, charred meat on the grassy ground. A spot of moonlight penetrating the forest canopy brightened his prone form. Mizuki paused at the sight of blood glistening in the moonlight and the sounds of the boy's labored breaths and agonized moans clashing with Mizuki's own heightened breathing. It all looked and felt surreal, hypnotic. He felt surreal, hypnotized by the adrenaline pumping in his veins and the bloodlust and hatred for the Kyuubi blinding his morals.

He was ready to end it. He came closer to the boy's broken form. The pain he must be going through had to be excruciating. With a kunai in his right hand, he would slit the boy's throat and leave the body for someone else to find. He had sought his justice; nothing more could come from disturbing a corpse.

But what came as a shock was the red-orange claw slashing at his chuunin vest. His back slammed against a tree to his right, and while he tried to regain his bearings a growl caught his full attention. There, standing, breathing and bleeding heavily, was the demon encroached inside a red chakra cloak. It was trying to walk towards him.

Fear circulated Mizuki's body. He didn't expect the demon boy to fight back after all the precautions he had made to prevent this. His kunai were laced with a poison that clots the chakra pathways, acting like a more violent and painful version of the Gentle Fist strikes. But that demon boy was slowly counteracting the poison. The Kyuubi was supposed to be a being made out of pure chakra. For it to do this—

Mizuki grinned. He didn't need to deal the finishing blow, after all. The Kyuubi might as well do what he intended to, because if it were to keep on forcing the poison out with its demonic chakra (chakra that he knew to be deadly for the boy's fragile body), then it'd be the end of them both.

"Stupid demon," he murmured before escaping through the trees. It was much better to know that the demon boy would die alone, just as Tsubaki did. It was all for her, after all. All for her.

Thankfully, only his chuunin vest was damaged from that attack earlier. If Mizuki had been a little closer, then his chest would be needing stitches along with questions from the hospital staff on how he had gotten them. But still, the vest was tainted with the Kyuubi's demonic chakra and it was only right that it be burned immediately. Mizuki didn't mind; he had two more vests in his closet, anyway.

Come morning after the event, he was pretty much in high spirits. With the suspension still in place, he had a lot of time to wander along Konoha for the rest of the day. Maybe spend some cash on a luxurious lunch and shoot some drinks at the local pub later on. He was quite content, and for the first time in many years Mizuki felt light, as if gravity had lessened by half.

It didn't last, however. News of the Kyuubi jinchuuriki's coming back from the dead spread like wildfire, and the weight that had disappeared from his shoulders hours prior returned with its own bit of vengeance. Iruka was the one who told him the rumor, and Mizuki could trust Iruka for truthful information, although he wished it was anything but.

So here he was now, getting pissed drunk in his misery as the tavern folk kept spouting on and on about the demon boy and how he should be feared. It was getting into Mizuki's nerves.

"Just wait," he whispered, inaudible to all the loud talk coming from behind him. The bartender glanced at him once, and then returned to mixing a cocktail for the customer at the other end of the bar. "Just wait, Kyuubi. You'll get what's yours soon enough. And this time, I'll make sure your body's nothing but ashes."

He ordered for another bottle and quaffed it. The alcohol was burning his throat, but he didn't care. He'd do anything to feel light once more now that he had a taste of it. He needed to kill the Kyuubi jinchuuriki sooner. They'd surely figure out it was him, and he wanted to have his end without this constant weight hovering down on him. The demon boy must die. No more waiting around, no more slithering in the shadows like a predator stalking its prey, no more ninja assassin bullshit. The cloak and dagger plan was botched. It was time to do the alternative.

It was suicidal, but better than waiting for ANBU to come knocking at his door.

Kakashi was in the park, sitting on a bench and reading his new smut book out in the open, though it was layered in a mild genjutsu so that if anybody were to look—especially the young children running about inside the park's crowded playground—they'd see a cover of Babysitting For Dummies. He had been tasked with the job of watching over Naruto (again) while Kushina discussed something with the Sandaime Hokage. He heard a few rumors flying around this morning about Naruto's dance with death. They varied—as rumors tend to become as they transfer from one loose mouth to another—but the gist of it all still stood: Naruto died and then came back to life. While he was unwilling to believe them until he went to the only verifier of the truth (Kushina), he still smiled when one of the more hyperboled-to-the-point-of-absurdity version of the Naruto rumor talked about the Devil not wanting the annoying child in Hell and so brought him back to life. Despite its morbidity, he had to hand it to the villagers' vast imagination; that concept could become a good story with a really disturbing slogan: "When there's no more room in Hell, the dead will walk the Earth."

Folding the page as a makeshift bookmark, he closed the book and rested his one eye for a while. He checked Naruto, who was playing all by himself at the edge of the playground under a birch tree, and wondered if there really weren't any other side effects brought on by his near death. He was no psychologist, but repressed memories often have a way of coming back to bite you later in life. And those bites would leave more than just mental scars. They could change a man. Completely.

But Naruto still looked to be as blissful as he used to be. His idea of playing in the park is relaxing on the side of a tree trunk, where the sun doesn't glare as profound as when you're in the actual playground, and reading a good book. Naruto didn't look a bit like his father, but he sure acted like him. Minato would often have a book in his pack—that was where Kakashi got his reading habit—and would fish it out when he had spare time in his hand. The more Kakashi looked at the boy, the more he saw Minato that was more than skin deep in him. He couldn't help but smile under his mask.

"Good afternoon, Kakashi-san."

Kakashi turned to his left and saw Shizune sitting beside him. She was in her usual jounin garb, where her sleeves were longer than her arms. She rarely went out wearing it, preferring her modest casual wear. The only times she'd worn her uniform were when she was about to go on a long term mission outside the village. And with the pack strapped on her back, she very well must be.

"Afternoon," he greeted back. Not wanting Shizune to suspect him of reading smut in the open again, he hid his book in his back pouch. "Fancy meeting you here."

"I got some time to kill before I meet my team at the Southern Gates," she said, rolling her sleeves to her elbows. "I got stuck with guarding duty at the Kuro Quarry."

The Kuro Quarry is located near the south-southwestern border of the country, dangerously close to reported bandit outposts. There had been times when the Fire archeologists were forced to evacuate the dig site due to increased bandit attacks and raids. Even with the number of ninjas sent to guard them and the quarry, the ninjas lacked the needed manpower to watch the whole perimeter. The quarry had grown deeper and wider over the years of relentless excavation (funding was supplied by the Fire Lord's deep pockets). To hire a skilled jounin like Shizune on a routine guarding mission inside that giant crater, Kakashi's curiosity reached the breaking point.

"How many of you?" he asked. It wouldn't hurt to turn his attention away from Naruto for a few minutes; he wasn't likely to get into trouble so soon anyway.

"Five of us. All seasoned jounin, too." Her eyes hardened. "This is only B-rank, yet it's like we're gearing up for S-rank."

"There've been rumors of ancient ruins in the Kuro Quarry these past few years. I wouldn't be surprised if this was covered up as B-rank when it is S-rank. Best to keep your guard up, all the same." Artifacts from a very old civilization were popping up left and right from discovered ruins all around the continent. Their values were quite high on the market—the most valued ones costing up to a tenth of the Shodai's necklace—and no doubt thieves, smugglers, bandits, and even missing nin were itching for some extra income through irreplaceable objects of history.

"The rest of us had the same conclusion," Shizune said. "though we're all wondering why the Third didn't tell us anything other than that. And speaking of rumors, have you heard the one about Naruto?"

Kakashi nodded.

Shizune smiled lopsidedly. "Pretty crazy stuff, huh?"

"Yet there's a grain of truth in the sack of lies."

"I know. Tsunade-sama told me it did happen, though not as flamboyant as the rumor mill tells it. She likely thinks that it's the You-Know-What that did it."

The Kyuubi, he thought. "And she's sure?"

"What other explanation should there be?" she asked back.

"Point taken," he conceded.

"So," she said, "how was your date yesterday?"

He looked away. He tried to act nonchalant, but Shizune already sensed the instant nervousness in his body language. "It was okay," he said.

"That's not the same thing she said." She scowled and crossed her arms. "Honestly, Kakashi-san, you took her to a porn shop? Have you no tact at all?"

"I told her beforehand that she shouldn't come with me," Kakashi explained, waving his hands in a gesture of 'Please don't kill me.' "The new Icha Icha: Caribbean Chronicles just hit the shelves yesterday, and I was eager to get my hands on it. The shop got temporarily closed during lunchtime, and since we'd already eaten lunch I wanted to stay in front and browse the windowed items until they opened up again. It was a good call because there was only one copy of the book left."

"Oh? You mean this copy?" Shizune had in her hands the book in question.

Kakashi instinctively reached for his back pouch and fished out no book, only the four storage scrolls he placed there. "H-How did you . . .?"

She grinned, white teeth shining almost as brightly as Gai's. "A sleight of hand, Kakashi-san. A simple sleight of hand."

"To be bested by a fellow jounin," he murmured, "and attacking where it wounds me the most, you're . . . sadistic as ever, Shizune-san."

"So?" She shrugged, fanning herself with the inch-thick pocketbook. "I believe you need a little punishment for that stunt you pulled yesterday. She's one of my best friends, Kakashi-kun." The tone of her voice then turned icy cold: "And I look after my friends, regardless of our past together."

Kakashi sighed. Around a year after the Kyuubi attack, he and Shizune dated for a while. The relationship had its ups and downs, but in the end, they broke up on a mutual agreement after seventeen whole months being together. They remained friends, but not as close as they used to be. Ever since their breakup, there had been an invisible barrier keeping them apart, growing wider and thicker as time went by, that the term 'friends' was now bordering 'acquaintances.' There was a tense atmosphere whenever the two of them were alone. The tension got so thick that Shizune started addressing him more formally. She might've sounded hypocritical with her last sentence, with the way she wasn't doing a thing to break down the barrier between them (though the same could be said for him, too), but he didn't think so. Their friendship withering away hurt him, but he kept the façade and acted okay with it. As stupid as it sounded, he needed to move on, too.

"I'll be sure to avoid those next time," Kakashi said.

"Who's to say my friend would want another date from you?"

"I meant for other potential dates."

"I didn't say she did not want another date, either."

Kakashi acted quick and chanced a grab for his precious book. His fingers touched the lower spine before Shizune yanked it until it rested next to her lower back. She was grinning all the way as if she had expected his predictable move.

He knew what that grin was for. He closed his eyes, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and offered his sympathies to Shizune's future boyfriend; her teasing games had been fun when they were dating, but their rotting relationship was now blocking that crucial emotional element, and Kakashi was feeling more annoyed than amused. Still, it was not a good idea to snap at her or wisecrack. The subdued approach would have to do, so he sucked up his pride and did it.

"May I please have my book back?" he asked. It sounded perfect, pleading too. How mortifying.

Shizune pursed her lips. She gave it back reluctantly. "I'll leave you with a warning, Kakashi-san. Try anything funny again and . . ."

She didn't need to finish her sentence to get the threat across. After Kakashi packed his smut book in his back pouch again, he nodded at her. And he would honor it, too. He was unsure what he felt about the female chuunin now. Before, they were just friends, fellow Konoha ninjas often pinned together in C- and B-rank missions, knew each other, but it had never crossed his mind that they could become something more. Truthfully, he was also a little apprehensive about taking their current relationship to the next level, afraid that it'd end the same way with Shizune: botched and caused lasting damage. He might not take it well this time.

"Go for it, Kakashi-san," Shizune said. Her smile looked almost forced, although he couldn't be sure. "You have my support."

He looked away, didn't want to see how her smile differed greatly from the emotion in her dark eyes. It would spawn questions, and these questions would most likely complicate their relationship further. Better to move on and never look back.

"Yeah, thanks," he replied stiffly, which he didn't mean to come out that way. His voice became gentler when he asked, "How long do you have before you meet your team?"

"Not long now." She checked the sky and the position of the sun. "Time for me to go."

Kakashi merely nodded and watched her walk towards the park's exit. "Shizune!" he called, purposely saying her name informally.

Shizune looked back, and even with their added distance he was sure that her cheeks were pinker than before.

"Stay safe," he said. Those two words brought back memories, a time when he was still in ANBU. It had been the other way around, though, where Shizune said those words to him before he was off to his last mission as part of the ANBU.

She stood there, stunned for a few moments. He tried to smile at her, but he doubted she'd see the wrinkles forming on his mask. Almost like she had turned bipolar, she waved goodbye at him timidly and mouthed "I will," before dashing to the rooftops.

I will.

Those were his exact words to her back then, too.

Now that their farewells had passed, Kakashi couldn't help feeling that their déjà vu parting had been an omen.

"Kushina, glad you could make it. Please, have a seat."

She complied, taking the seat at her right which was to the front left of the Hokage's desk. The old man's eyes followed her as she sat down, an indifferent stare partnered with a gentle, grandfatherly smile. Somehow, the image conjured hopelessness and despair than safety and peace. Their discussion didn't start yet and already Kushina hated and dreaded it.

"We have something to discuss that is of utmost importance," he said, taking a blue folder from his desk and presenting it to her. "I'll assume that you know what Tsunade had written in her report."

"Hokage-sama, if I may," Kushina interjected, then waited for her leader to allow her to continue, which he did. "I don't want to involve my son into this affair at all. I want to seek the bastard myself, yes, but the thought of Naruto-chan having to remember what happened to him . . . I don't want that. What kind of parent could want that?"

The Hokage looked solemn then, but neither did he sigh nor cry. He showed his own sympathy through subtle gestures and facial expressions; most wouldn't catch them, but their effect still came. Sitting on the chair in front of him, looking torn between seeking justice and wanting what's best for her only child, Kushina was willing to defy her village leader to keep her son safe. Sarutobi looked torn as well.

"I understand your concern, Kushina, but—"

"You weren't really considering making Naruto-chan remember . . . were you?"

"I have, I'm afraid." He sighed as Kushina's face paled, eyes as wide as they could go. "This must be resolved quickly."

"But Naruto-chan . . . yo-you can't!"

"Kushina, see reason." He tapped the folder twice. "From what I read in Tsunade's report and also the one from the ANBU who found Naruto-kun, it clearly states that he had been kidnapped, left to die, and the most suspected is a Konoha shinobi. Why they didn't kill Naruto-kun then"—he paused, hesitated when Kushina clenched her hands and gritted her teeth—"we would never know, unless we apprehend him immediately."

"I have to think about Naruto-chan's safety first," she replied. She was as stubborn as Sarutobi remembered.

"And you are. Look at this way, Kushina. The culprit went after Naruto-kun most probably for the same reason as the other attempts on his life, they were after the Kyuubi's death. If the culprit had left Naruto-kun to die in that forest, he'd be expecting your son to stay dead. With the rumors I hear flying around the village, it'd be impossible to put Naruto-kun in hiding until this matter is resolved. No doubt he'd come back to finish the job.

"I've studied everything before I called you here. This kidnapping had been planned. He slipped through the patrols and the guards I've stationed at your home this week. He chose the forest because it was away from civilization; perfect for killing and disposing a body. And he left nothing that could trace back to him. That is if his plan worked perfectly."

Kushina rested her forearms on her thighs, shifting herself to the edge of the seat. She had been too busy worrying over Naruto that she forgot to put time on studying the crime scenes and the evidence left behind. No doubt Sarutobi had already conducted that.

Sarutobi fished another folder from his desk, this one a blood red color, opened it, and handed it to her. She took it without a word and started reading the sentences he had highlighted.

"We found traces of a fabric commonly used in Konoha ballistic vests. That narrows down our suspects to chuunin and jounin. Naruto-kun must've put up a fight before the kidnapper had gotten the upper hand."

"But how?"

"It's just a theory," he answered, "but I believe it has the most merit. According to Tsunade, Naruto-kun had been wheeled into the operating room already leaking out bits of demonic chakra. It was the Kyuubi's own way of saving his container's life, from what I could think of."

Kushina wanted to say something, but kept her mouth shut. Sarutobi must have a reason for bringing that up.

"But then I ask myself, did the Kyuubi save Naruto-kun's life in another way? What if the fox was also the reason why the kidnapper did not kill Naruto-kun in that forest?" There was a darker thought that could explain why Naruto was left for dead: the kidnapper wanted him to die alone and in agony.

"So what you're saying is . . ."

"The seal must've momentarily weakened when Naruto-kun was close to dying," he finished. "And in that, the release of demonic chakra made the kidnapper flee, not knowing that the seal can reinforce itself and contain it."

Kushina turned her head back to the folder in her hands. "But before it was contained, the Kyuubi somehow . . . made Naruto-chan attack the bastard while engulfed in the demon's malevolent essence," she said, almost as if she were stating the obvious facts to herself to force her to believe it. Maybe this was the cause of Naruto's sudden appetite.

"And that's all it did."

"And the fabric?"

"That's where the kidnapper made his mistake." Sarutobi smiled like a war lord spotting a weakness in the enemy's defense he could exploit. He yet again brought out another folder, this one white. He opened the folder, dug out a single sheet of paper, and returned the folder to its original place. "The fabric on the vest is a material that had been used by only one particular store in Konoha. Ever been to Shinobi Arsenal?"

Kushina nodded. That was the shop where she had bought her custom-made ballistic vest, which consisted of both Konoha and Uzu designs.

"The owner, Mosuke, had invented a revolutionary design on our combat vests. He had cultivated a special kind of fabric which can absorb most attacks and more durable with ballistic and shrapnel damage."

"But he died before he could tell anyone how he made those fabrics. Yes, I've heard. My old armor had been his final work before his son took over the shop."

"Exactly. He was also quite secretive, saying that he'd only reveal how to create the fabric when he's comfortable telling it. But at least he told me that creating the special fabric is a time-consuming process, so he hadn't been able to mass produce them at all."

Kushina, somehow catching onto what the Third was talking about, asked, "Did Mosuke-san keep a logbook?"

He smiled and showed her the paper. "In fact, he does. This is a copy of the list of buyers of his vests. They were a rarity since Mosuke concentrated on making ANBU combat vests and forging new weapons, so we've narrowed down the list of suspects to twenty."

"There're thirty-two names on this list," Kushina informed.

"Ten of them died in the Kyuubi attack. One died when that Kumo emissary was close to escaping the village with Hinata Hyuuga; his vest had been heavily damaged. The last one committed murder-suicide on her boyfriend before setting their apartment on fire."

Kushina winced. She remembered that incident. The girl was a friend of Kakashi, and he had been devastated when he heard the news.

Whether Sarutobi was sorry for bringing up painful memories or not, she was unsure. His face remained indifferent but tired. "As you can see, Kushina, everything is under control. But I cannot proceed anymore unless I want the culprit to figure out that I am onto him."

"And so you want my son's testimony to let him point the man who . . . who . . ." The paper in her hand crumpled.

"Not like that, I give you my word. If all goes well, then Naruto-kun will never remember it again."

"What do you mean?"

"I've assigned the Yamanaka clan's best mind-walker, Inoichi, to dive into Naruto-kun's psyche and review the repressed memories from that night. It'll be like he had slept through some surgery."

Tsunade told her this before. Kushina just didn't believe it could be as easy. "What's the catch?"

"Nothing," he retorted. "Please don't undermine the capabilities of your fellow shinobi, Kushina. They might think you're being condescending to them."

"Don't patronize me with that, Hokage-sama." Her voice was almost a shout. "I'll talk to Mister Yamanaka if it pleases you, and only then will I decide if I want this to continue or not. There's always a catch to something." Her bangs shadowed her eyes. "I had to learn that the hard way."

Sarutobi wanted to rebuke that cynical view of the world, but didn't have the words to back it up. Just like Kushina, he had been hardened by war, mourned for countless deaths, and trained to kill for what he believed in. And in some part of him, he agreed with her. The world does not give you fortune for free, and there are times when the things you receive are far less than the things you give in return. They were harsh lessons, ones that didn't really give an impact to anyone until they themselves experienced it firsthand. Kushina had been through this, just like he did. All for the sake of duty, of valor, of patriotism.

But there were times when he was left to ponder things over, and he often asked himself, Was it all for nothing?

"That's all I ask for," he said to her, glancing at the window overlooking the village. "Inoichi will give you more details concerning the operation. At this time, he could be heading home from the Torture and Interrogations Department."

She stood from her chair, placed the crumpled list on his desk, and walked towards the door. "I'll go see him, then."

He couldn't see the expression on her face when she said that, but her hands, which were still clenched into fists, told him all he needed to know.

"I got it!"

Naruto looked up from cooking his special homemade ramen and saw his mindscape companion, currently going by the name of Really, entering the kitchen with a skip in its step.

"Got what?" Naruto turned the stove off, added the flavor packet into the pot, and stirred it while humoring the little sheep.

"I finally figured out the perfect name!"

"Oh really?" He then snickered.

"Yes," Really said, ignoring the pun, "and it's perfect for me. Very exotic and sends a chill down your spine, too."

"I doubt you'd have a better name than the ones I've thought of, Really a ewe."

"You mean names like Ramstein, Dewey, and Sheepie? Dude, all of them point back to me being a sheep. And I'm a ram not a ewe, you moron."

"I'm going to ram ewe."

"Stop it with the pun jokes already!"

"What else is there for me to do? What?"

"Solitaire."

"Gets boring."

"Eating ramen."

"Which I know is just a figment of my imagination, since my younger counterpart is the one eating real food."

"Conjuring hot chicks for some ramming?"

"Now who's the one doing the jokes?"

"That one's ironic, not a pun."

"You got a point. And I don't conjure hot chicks because like with the ramen"—he gestured to the pot he was stirring—"it's not real."

"Then think of it as a wet dream."

"Which would carry onto my counterpart, and he's too young to be ejaculating."

". . . I give up."

Naruto just shrugged at him. He turned back to the stove, grabbed the boiling pot, and poured the contents into the bowl set at the next counter. "So . . . your name?"

"Oh, right. I realized that you have a fixation of my name referencing to my species."

"Sheep are nice, yes," he mused. "You can't spell ramen without ram, right." He started eating the delicacy.

One eye-twitch later (which is somehow amazing since Naruto doesn't remember ever seeing a sheep do the eye-twitch), Really said, "Well, I thought up a name that'll make both of us happy. It keeps up with your sheep motif, and it's a name I'm satisfied with."

"Okay. So tell me already. I'm anxious to know it."

The sheep took a deep breath. Then said, "My name is now officially . . . Rambo!"

Naruto went into a coughing fit, almost choking on his noodles. He stared at Rambo . . . wanting to laugh, wanting to roll on the floor and laugh his own ass off, needing to create an outlet for the boundless mirth rising inside him. But it was not meant to be.

He just said, "Huh."

And that was not a question.

Chapter Afterword:

Shizune is out of the potential suspect for the mystery black-haired woman who's Kakashi's love interest, though it's nice to see that they had history together. No threesomes, if some of you readers are going to that strain of thought. I'm sorry but harem fics are all well and good, but not once have I read a harem fic that's finished. The way I see it, creating a harem fic is a curse. And I don't want my story to be cursed by such a thing. I want to see an ending to this. It'll be difficult to wrap everything up, but I'm sure it'll be fulfilling.

It's also way too early for me to decide a pairing on Naruto. There're a few potential candidates, but only time will tell. I'd rather let the characters grow by themselves, let them be the ones to develop themselves than let an uncontrollable thing such as plot ruin their role.