Chapter Seven
"Slight fever, chills, nasty cough... I'd say you've come down with the flu. That's just great, really. Just what we needed."
Hinata, who was sitting with her back against an old oak, said nothing, and eventually Ingou shrugged, turned around and started packing his belongings, meanwhile whistling a ghastly tune that sent shivers up Hinata's spine.
But then, she would probably shiver anyway. Her head ached, her throat was sore and the morning cold had permeated her completely, as if she had swallowed a cupful of ice cubes. On top of that it was still raining, and her clothes, which had more or less dried up while she had been lying in Ingou's waterproof sleeping bag, were soaked once more, chilling her even further and weighing her down. She wasn't really sick yet – not like she had been in Konoha – but she knew that in these conditions it wouldn't take long before the heavy fever would set in and the barriers between dreams and reality would fade. She shook her head to dispel these negative thoughts, the main result of which was that the hammers inside her head suddenly pounded with twice the power. She closed her eyes in silent suffering.
It's not looking too good for me. Without proper health care this could have some... very bad consequences. I really, really messed up this time.
She half-opened her eyes, stared blearily at the towering trees.
And yet... and yet...
And yet, while her muscles ached, while she broke into a coughing fit every few minutes, and while the world around her constantly drifted out of focus, she felt in many respects better than she had for a long, long time.
When Ingou had found her and taken her away the night before, she had been too weak to resist, too weak even to cry for help.
Let him kill me then, she had thought, let him solve my problems with a simple strike of his sword. Let it be over.
But he had not killed her, had not even harmed her, and in retrospect she felt ashamed for those thoughts, which were so symbolic for that weakness that, she now knew, really had been within her all along.
But no more.
As she had entered the longest night of her life, a thousand questions, doubts and fears had lunged at her from the darkness, had surrounded her, infiltrated her mind, and torn her up inside up to the point where the pain almost became physical, where all she could do was cry while wave after wave of anguish and sorrow washed over her. She had cried for hours on end, sometimes just letting the tears run softly, sometimes with wild, convulsive sobs, but always quietly, as she had always been quiet about the things that hurt her most. She had cried until she could no longer find the tears, and had tried to calm down, only to start all over again as the insatiable sea of sorrow continued to drown her with renewed energy. She had cried until the first rays of the sun lit up the horizon and the early birds woke up and started to fill the air with their carefree, unconcerned songs. And that was when she had learned the most important lesson of her life, something she had known before – something everyone knew - but that she had never understood as she did now, namely that crying doesn't solve anything.
As the morning light had shone upon her wet, tear-stained face, she had realised that, in spite of all her crying, all her despair and all her self-pity, her situation had not improved in any conceivable way. She was still sick, she was still a captive, and she was further from reaching Naruto than she had ever been before. The only thing the tears had done for her was wear her out and take away what little energy she had left.
When this realisation had hit her, she hadn't moved for at least ten minutes, captured by the sudden calmness of silent contemplation. Then, very carefully, solemnly almost, she had brought her arm to her face and had slowly, gently wiped the tears away.
Never again, she had thought. Never again will I lose myself in tears, will I hide my responsibilities behind weakness, fear and doubt. Never again will I wait for others to solve my problems for me, while I wallow in self-pity. Never again will I let others destroy my dreams. My life is what I make of it, and I will have to struggle to get what I want, and never give up. Just like you, Naruto-kun. Like you, I will stand up for my own beliefs, because no one else is going to. Like you, I will defend my right to live a life of my own, to be acknowledged, to be loved. I will fight to make up for every useless tear I've shed, and I will make it through with the power that lies within myself, not within others.
She had clenched one hand into a fist, while putting the other on her heart impulsively.
I have vowed this before, but that was before I knew what it really meant. Now I know where the other road leads, and I know I never want to go there. I won't fail again, won´t go back on my words. Because that is my nindo. My ninja way.
It was thus that Ingou had found her in the morning, physically exhausted but mentally renewed, refreshed, revived. If he noticed the change she had gone through overnight he didn´t show it, which was probably for the best.
Let him think I am still that weakling, Hinata decided. It will keep the element of surprise in my hands. I am in no condition to fight him or even run away, but I can observe him, gather as much information on our enemy as possible, and use it to my advantage when the time comes.
Meanwhile, Ingou had finished packing what few possessions he carried with him. He kneeled down in front of Hinata with a fairly neutral look on his face.
"Okay girl," he said calmly, "let me explain the situation to you. You are ill, and it will get a lot worse if you don't get proper treatment soon. The only place to get that out here in the wilderness is where I come from. Where I was sent out from. Over there." He pointed at the mountain range in the west. "Even at a normal walking pace, we should be able to reach it before sunset. So that's what we're going to do. If you, by dint of some sort of miracle, would manage to escape, you would die of hunger, thirst or illness before finding another human being. In other words, it's in your own best interest to calmly follow me and not to try anything stupid. You understand that?"
Hinata looked away, but he sighed, grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her to her feet. It took her a moment to steady herself, and she gritted her teeth as the thumping in her head increased to an almost unbearable level. Then Ingou snapped his fingers in front of her nose to get her attention, beckoned for her to follow and walked off in the direction of the huge, gloomy shapes on the horizon.
He doesn't even care to keep an eye on me. He knows I have no choice but to follow.
She looked around to see if she could leave a sign for the others, to let them know where she was going, but since Ingou had taken all her kunai and other belongings she had nothing to make marks with. Besides, the odds of Neji and Naruto even finding such a mark in these huge, outstretched forests were miniscule to begin with.
I'll just have to try to escape once I strengthen up. And in the meanwhile, learn what I can, like a proper shinobi.
She started trotting after Ingou, slowly and unsteadily, ignoring the pain that shot through her with every movement. It was going to be a long day.
As the hours passed and the sun, only occasionally visible between the heavy, rain-laden clouds, slowly climbed up towards the peak of its long journey, Hinata tried to observe Ingou to the best of her ability, in an attempt to learn what kind of person he really was.
One of the first things she noticed was how easily he adapted his travelling speed to hers. How different he was in that respect from people like Naruto or Rock Lee, for whom things never seemed to go fast enough and who would rather run back and forth constantly than fall in line with the slower-moving part of the group. Ingou seemed to be in no hurry to get anywhere.
He moves as if he doesn't really care where he's going, as if he doesn't actually have anywhere to be. He walks without a purpose, almost, just wandering wherever the road leads and dealing with whatever comes up along the way. But that's not entirely true... he said he was 'sent out' from somewhere, after all. So this is definitely part of a mission, only... he doesn't seem to care much about it, himself.
Another thing that drew Hinata's attention was how the constant rainfall affected Ingou, or rather how it didn't. For even though he was just as soaked as she was, he didn't seem in any way bothered or hindered by the cold water. He didn't walk from cover to cover, as many people would do, and paid no heed to puddles in his way, even if the water came up to his ankles. This was not uncommon for water element users, but Ingou was orientated towards fire, which should almost make it worse for him.
What else can explain such an indifference to water? Something in his genes?
Hinata tried to remember anything she had ever heard about shinobi and water, mostly because it kept her mind off the nagging pain in her limbs. Eventually she recalled something Kurenai had told her once, about how families that had lived in the Village Hidden in the Mist for many generations seemed to develop a certain natural resistance to water overtime.
Could that be it? Does he hail from the Land of Water? He's cruel enough for it... but It's impossible to find out just by looking at him.
She hesitated. If she wanted to find out more about her captor there was only one way, and that was by talking with him. But the last thing she wanted right now was have a nice conversation with the guy who nearly killed Naruto; the mere thought already filled her with an angry disgust.
If it was up to me, I'd stay as far away from his as possible. But... this is not about what I want. I have to do what is best for my team, and for Konoha. That is how a shinobi acts.
She clung to those thoughts with all her might, gathered all her courage, and by the time Ingou indicated it was time for a pause and some food she was ready to face him.
Here we go.
Ingou handed her a bowl of rice with hardly any other ingredients in it, but she thanked him most politely anyway, causing him to look up in mild surprise.
"So, you do have a tongue after all?"
She forced an unconvincing smile on her face.
"W-well... a mute shinobi would be a pretty odd sight, wouldn't it?"
Ingou shrugged uninterestedly and turned his attention back to his food.
Not good enough. I have to keep trying.
"So... your name is Ingou, isn't it?" she asked lamely.
This time he looked annoyed rather than surprised.
"What the hell are you talking about? Can't you just eat in silence or something?"
"Ah, I'm just trying to get to know you a little. S-so, how old are you?" she added hastily as he was about to interrupt her. He closed his mouth again and observed her carefully for a while, perhaps trying to decide whether she had gone crazy or not.
"Fifteen," he eventually replied, and his voice had a certain edge to it that indicated this conversation would be over very soon. Hinata's mind raced, or rather tried to race but was constantly tripped up by her incessant weariness.
I have to say something nice, to make him trust me.
"You're... you're about my age then," she eventually said. "In another time and place, we... might have been friends."
Ingou huffed.
"Yeah, right, I don't think so. Are you mocking me or something? Just hurry up and finish your damn food so we can get moving again."
He stood up abruptly and walked away, leaving a rather disappointed Hinata behind.
I don't think subtle interrogation is my forte. Then again, he doesn't seem to be the easiest to talk to. I'll have to slowly win him over. It's not like there's anything else I can do right now, anyway...
But no matter how often she tried to start a conversation with him in the hours that followed, by asking about his childhood, his hometown, his favourite food, and even by remarking on the weather, he would say not more than 'hmm', 'shut up' or 'just keep walking', and when the sun started to set Hinata almost felt as useless as before, especially when she had to take a break every ten minutes because she was completely exhausted and her legs gave away below her. But the fire in her heart kept her going, and this time she didn't break down; instead, she asked herself what Naruto would do.
He would keep trying, she knew immediately, even if nothing seemed to work out, he would go on with that stubbornness of his. So I will do the same.
She glanced at Ingou again, who was moving just as calmly as he had right at the start.
I may not be able to find out anything about him, but we should reach our destination soon, and I can see if I can learn anything once we get there.
Wherever 'there' was, anyway. They had already reached the foot of the mountain range, so if they wanted to travel any further they would have to climb. Surely their destination couldn't lie on the other side? It was already getting dark, and scaling those steep slopes at night while it was raining was nothing less than suicide, even if you weren't dizzy and tired on top of that.
Ingou must have noticed her troubled stare, because he laid a hand on her shoulder in what would have been a friendly gesture if he had not grinned evilly while doing it.
"Don't worry," he said in a tone that clearly implied something worrying was coming. "We're not going up. We're going down."
She looked at him with a hint of fear.
"Down? I don't see-"
"I'll show you. This way."
He grabbed her hand and pulled her along through the dense shrubbery, until they reached the cliff that was the start of the huge walls of rock that dominated the horizon. Ingou walked directly to a specific part of the huge rocks, even though they looked no different than the rest, and bit his thumb until it started bleeding. Then he formed a series of seals that Hinata immediately recognised and placed his blooded hand on the huge slab of stone.
"Summoning Technique, Lighted Path!"
Immediately, fire sprouted forth from his hand, spreading out over the stone and forming the shape of a gateway. The flame-covered part of the rock seemed to dissolve, or rather fade away, and a simple iron gate took its place. It was but a small gate, but it looked strangely tough and solid, and the extra chains with which it was reinforced clearly said that anyone who wished to enter had better be welcome.
Ingou fished a rather plain key from below his shirt, slid it in the keyhole and watched with satisfaction as the chains seemed to unchain themselves and fell on the ground in neat coils. Then the gate swung open by itself, revealing a dark tunnel that sloped slightly downwards.
"Ladies first," Ingou said with mocking politeness.
Hinata had no choice. She walked through the gate. As soon as she had set foot inside the tunnel, the warm humidness of outside was replaced by a cold, dusty air, air that had didn't get refreshed quite often enough.
Ingou followed her in, then slammed the door behind them, immediately blocking out all light. Hinata's heart pounded as she heard the chains rattle back into place.
What now?
"Beacon," Ingou said softly, and suddenly he was radiating with a faint glow, which was only just enough to illuminate an area of a few feet around him. He grinned at Hinata.
"You had better stay very close to me now. You can hold my hand if you're afraid of the dark, you know."
Hinata bit her lip. She hadn't thought she would be led to a place so well hidden. The odds of Naruto and Neji finding her here were nil.
Then I'll have to find my way out of here myself. In my weakness I ran away, and now I have to deal with the consequences. With the power that lies in myself. But Naruto... it is still you who first showed me that power, and as long as there's hope for... for us... thinking of you will remain a source of power for me.
She stared down the dark corridor, even though she couldn't see anything. She felt Ingou's gaze on her, curious to see what she would do.
I'll be brave like you. Then next time I see you, I won't have to be ashamed, and you can be proud of me!
She took a deep breath, and started walking.
***
Modosu sipped from his wine.
It was a good wine, full and fruity just the way he liked it. It was at least as good as the wines he had enjoyed in his younger years, when he had been roaming the streets of Sunagakure, the Village hidden in the Sand. Of course, those wines had not been his – nothing had really been his back then, apart from the clothes he wore and the power he wielded in their little youth gang – but that didn't matter for the taste.
Ah, the good old days, he mused, when none of us cared for the future because we didn't think we'd survive that long. And just look at me now. Still one step below real power, just as I was back then, but no longer in a petty children's club. This is the real thing.
He had long ago realised that the ideal position in any organisation was just one step below the top, as long as whoever was above you was to a certain degree incompetent. That way, if you were subtle enough, you could exert almost as much influence as the leader, but without being the target of constant conspiracies from the more ambitious members of the lower echelons. As long as you made sure you knew more than the rest, they couldn't do without you and would think twice before making you an enemy.
But what's at stake right now is more than just my life, and things aren't going as planned. But there is still time. I just wish some people weren't so impatient.
At that last thought, he smiled, and turned around to face the one who had been rude enough to enter without knocking.
"So, we finally get to meet face to face," he spoke before taking another sip from his drink. Then he corrected himself by saying: "Well, not entirely. I still can't see your face, for example."
And indeed, the shadowy figure standing in the doorway was positioned just out of reach of the candlelight, and his features were, as always, shrouded in darkness. Modosu couldn't tell whether this was on purpose or a coincidence, but he felt his curiosity grow stronger by the second.
I should have lit a fire in the hearth.
For a moment, he even considered grabbing one of the candles and holding it close to the silhouette, but at that moment the figure spoke up, interrupting the wanderings of Modosu's mind abruptly.
"Stop talking nonsense. Just answer my question."
Modosu shrugged.
"Fine. Yes, the girl is here. Ingou brought her in just a short while ago."
"A completely unnecessary course of action. There was never any need for him to interfere in the first place."
"Maybe, maybe..."
Modosu emptied his glass, savoured the exquisite taste on his tongue for a moment, then sighed deeply.
"But you have to admit it made your job easier."
"It was unnecessary," the figure repeated. "It doesn't matter. How is she doing?"
"She's not injured," Modosu said shortly. He stared sadly into his empty glass.
"But?"
"Well, I gather she has fallen ill," Modosu said uninterestedly.
"Severely ill?"
"Not yet, though without the proper treatment-"
"Then have your best medics standing by to see to her immediately after the ritual."
Modosu smiled.
"Isn't that a bit ironic? You worrying about her health even with what you're about to do to her? Or are you just... protecting your interests?"
"What must be done, must be done. But none of this is her fault, so the least we can do is treat her properly and make sure she gets through this with as little discomfort as possible. Besides..."
The figure stepped forward, towards Modosu and in reach of the candles. The light reflected off his Konoha forehead protector. It fell on his long brown hair, which was tied together at the bottom. And it revealed his serious, impassive, calculating white eyes, which stared distrustful at Modosu.
"Besides," Neji repeated, "she is still my cousin, and if anything unforeseen happens to her, I'll know where to find you. Now, let's get on with the plan. Our time is short."
