～映画物語～

藤原のムラサキ

XxX

Murasaki slammed the mission log books down on the desk in front of her, the cloud-shrouded moonlight fighting for dominance against the incandescent bulbs that burned in the cheap fixtures of the missions room. The village was oddly quiet on the eve of the bi-annual chunnin exams, but most of the chunnin were up late preparing for giving the first exam.

Murasaki's heart had festered with worry for Kakashi and Jiraiya, poisoning her attitude towards her overall work. For some reason, this had changed her personality greatly. She didn't feel like laughing the way she had before, she simply set about her tasks with mindless monotony. It was as if life had lost all meaning and beauty.

She slid the books over to her coworker, a slender young man with a wide mouth and shoulder length white-blond hair swept back into a low ponytail.

"Kyuuketsuki, these are the last three months in mission reports, I need you to double check the number of gennin missions and the run times per team. Sarutobi-sama is going to make a decision based off of statistics this year, rather than ability…"

"Isn't it always like that?" Kyuuketsuki muttered, wrenching the top book open with his unnaturally long, nimble fingers. "It's all about stats, not ability or bravery…" he sighed, his pointed teeth shining like pearls from between his rose pink lips. Murasaki had often wondered about him, and there was a whispered rumor, but no one dared say anything, for those who did often disappeared.

Murasaki made a sound of acknowledgement before she vanished again, returning to the room where the records were kept.

A week before, Konoha had suffered from an earthquake that was strong enough to topple a few of the older buildings, and many of the mission logs that had been scattered to the four winds before were was far worse off now.

Sarutobi had told her, almost dismissively, to go organize the records and work with Kuuketsuki in developing a more effective filing system. She wasn't about to complain. It was a mission, it paid the rent, and Kuuketsuki was enjoyable to work with.

She had long ago lost the foolish pride to be put on an 'important mission'.

Murasaki knelt on the floor beneath the buzzing light bulb, the loose papers forming a sort of fortress around her as she sorted them chronologically.

Some of the pieces were so old, she was almost afraid to touch them or the fibrous rice paper would crumble beneath her fingertips. It made her job more difficult, and she couldn't help but wonder if maybe she should be wearing gloves.

A sudden, uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, working its way up to form a lump in her throat as she caught sight of the Hatake name, going back at least four generations of high-ranking shinobi missions. His family was one of the most auspicious in the village, on the same level as the Uchiha or the Hyuuga, even the Aburame…

Murasaki ignored her ailment, crouching silently in the cupboard, shuffling through papers as she went. A few moment later, she could have sworn the lump moved, and she felt herself get sick instantly.

Rising to her feet, she sprinted down the hall to the nearest water closet, but stopped just a few feet shy, doubling over and vomiting all over the floor.

Much to her shock and disgust, a small orange and green toad tumbled out of her mouth onto the floor with the bile.

The brunet fought off a swoon, clutching the wall for support and staring down at the little toad in shock and dismay. When had she? There was no possible way…that toad was one of the poisonous kinds…wasn't it?

The toad blinked up at her in just as much shock, as much shock as a toad can express, and spoke to her quite frankly:

"It's safe to assume you are Murasaki-hime?"

"Y-yes…?" Murasaki spluttered, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, her head spinning.

"I have a message from Jiraiya-sama." The toad proceeded to vomit a startlingly large scroll. Torn between revulsion and confusion, Murasaki took the scroll, wiping the slime off of it with her jacket and unrolling it as the toad vanished without another word.

Within seconds, she'd decoded her father's slovenly handwriting, nearly dropping the scroll in surprise;

"Orochimaru,

Kakashi in trouble

Send help immediately."

Murasaki stood, nearly slipping on the pool of bile as she ran straight for the hokage's office. She was stopped by twin ANBU before she could burst in, but upon showing them the scroll, she was ushered quickly inside.

"Hokage-sama!" Murasaki bowed quickly, presenting him with the scroll. "This just came from my father. It's an emergency."

"You read it then?" Sarutobi said, taking his pipe form his mouth and taking the scroll from here.

"Yes sir, I wasn't certain what else to do with it." Murasaki said, still caught in a bow.

"Very good. Go back to what you were doing." Sarutobi said, turning his chair towards his desk. Murasaki stood up in surprise.

"Hokage-sama…?"

He looked up at her. "Is there something else, Murasaki-san?"

Murasaki shook her head. "No…sorry."

She bowed again, leaving, her heart racing. She had very nearly asked for the rest of the night off, but it was clear by now he wouldn't have allowed it.

Silently she returned to the mission room, Kuuketsuki sitting silently with his back to the door, sorting the paperwork.

"Back so soon?" He asked, not loking up from the papers.

"Kuuketsuki…there's a huge problem…I need to go home."

"Have you cleared it with the Hokage?"

"No…" Murasaki said softly, taking a step back, her fingers curling around the doorjamb.

"Someone you love is in trouble, aren't they?"

And there it was: that terrifying power of perception that belonged to Kuuketsuki, as if he could read minds. He rose from the spot, turning with a close-lipped smile, his pale purple eyes flashing as he turned.

"Give me your hand." He said quietly. Murasaki crossed the room, awkwardly holding up her left hand. He took her right hand, slicing the tip of her finger with his kunai.

"Now you've been injured." he ran his finger through the collecting blood, sucking on the tip of his finger. "You can go home."

XxX

Kakashi had known something was amiss when he'd left Konoha with Megumi: she was as slippery and conniving as her father, but far more transparent. He hadn't been entirely unprepared when he left: he'd asked the Hokage for permission to organize backup, sent out teams of ANBU Black-ops to trail them: but Megumi had been prepared.

There had been a huge fight; Megumi's troops had completely obliterated his.

He had underestimated her, it was that simple: the entire time she had been playing coy, playing dumb with him. She was lethal, her sheer tactical prowess alone enough to take out an entire subunit of ANBU.

And now he sat in a windowless cell, drained of chakra to the point where he couldn't use his sharingan.

To add insult to injury, Megumi had added Chakra-draining sutra's to the cell door. Strangely, she hadn't bound his hands or feet, but the cell was small enough that he couldn't get far enough away from the door to get any more chakra.

This terrified him. It was difficult to determine his fate in a situation like this: obviously Megumi needed him alive, but what for? Was it one of her own twisted deigns, or one of her fathers?

Kakashi grunted, one of his broken ribs aching dully. He was in rough shape. Megumi hadn't done this herself, no, she was a mastermind, not a fighter…

Her men had been especially rough, Megumi's eyes filled with glee as they beat him, even after his defeat.

But an escape was out of the question at this point. Even if he were physically well enough to stage an escape, the lack of chakra and the habitual use of it…he would be dead before he even got out of the building. Gai had been smart to learn taijutsu; Kakahsi's reliance on his own chakra was damning…

The stale air inside the room was as stifling as the damp, heavy darkness, and the only thing Kakashi could do was sit back and wait for the heavy steel door to swing open, and for someone to proscribe him his fate, and hope that by then he would be well enough to at least die fighting.

So this was where it would end? It didn't seem right, even though as an ANBU it wasn't appropriate to make future plans, to even think about the future could have been treason.

But as he sat there in the darkness, he couldn't help but think of that moment in Konoha, beneath the tree with Murasaki. Her hair had been damp, brown gossamer strands clinging to her fair skin, her eyes endless and complex, untainted and pure, and he had held her.

He had held her unlike any man had held her before. He knew by the way she'd composed herself; like if she allowed him further, she would shatter like glass.

To Kakashi, she was maddening and calming all at once, like a violent rainstorm after a long, hot day, with all of the beauty and power, but none of the destruction.

He heaved a sigh, shaking his head. No, never again would he look at her, never again would he come to her rescue or carry her away from harm. All he had ever wanted to do was to protect her, and here in death all he could do was sit in silent despair.

XxX

Jiraiya hid beneath the shadows of his wide-brimmed hat, his disguise secure. No confirmation had come form Konoha, but he doubted they would waste time with such a thing, especially when it might compromise more than one shinobi…

The rain poured all around him, but Jiriaya never moved: they should be here if they're coming.

Finally, two figures appeared on the road, running full tilt, white Konoha issue cloaks billowing behind them: this wasn't right…

Konoha always sent out three man squadrons…always.

Murasaki and Gai were running full tilt, open-toed shoes splashing carelessly in the puddles that had gathered on the road.

Murasaki's hair was soaked despite the hood that covered her head, but she looked like she was ready for battle, her jaw firmly set, and Gai looked no less ready than she, his own face full of stubborn determination. Jiraiya stepped out onto the road, standing in the middle so they couldn't pass.

"What are shinobi from Konoha doing out this close to Amegakure?"

Murasaki froze, kunai drawn. Jiraiya was impressed: he hadn't even seen her reach for one. Was she really getting that fast?

"Out of my way!"

"Not so fast!" He grabbed her arm as she sidestepped him. Her other hand came up, slashing his cheek as Gai grabbed his arms from behind, rendering Jiraiya nearly immobile.

"Touch me again and I'll make the other side match." Murasaki hissed.

"It's me, your father!" Jiraiya hissed, dropping his disguise for a moment. For a second, Jiraiya was sure she didn't believe him, but she suddenly bowed her head, bending her waist slightly as Gai bowed, uttering a deep, informal apology.

"Sorry, dad…"

"What are you doing out." He hissed, pulling her beneath the eave of a nearby building. "Why aren't you two in disguise? You know it's dangerous out here on the edges of civilization. A few more meters and they would've executed you on the spot!"

"Papa, the Hokage won't send backup…We took the days off we never used to come out here. We are your backup."

"Go home now. This is way over your head."

"No. You left, and I had to make decisions on my own. Now I am making the decision to back you up, not as your daughter, but as a kunoichi of Konoha. Hatake-san is in trouble, and we can't waste time arguing." Murasaki said, lifting her head defiantly.

"I am your father." Jiraiya snarled, untying his hat and putting it on her head. "I am not letting either of you come with me, shinobi of Konoha or otherwise. You need to learn to think with your head and not your heart."

"It's not like that." Murasaki said bluntly as he tied the bow over her chin, looping it around one large, callused finger. "Dad, we are the only people coming. This is your backup; take it or leave it. Konoha isn't going to help you right now."

Jiraiya jerked back, shocked at her sudden, blunt manner of speaking. "When did you grow a pair?"

Murasaki's grey eyes narrowed as she raised her kunai, still stained red with his blood. "Do you want our help on not?"

Jiraiya made a grunt of dissent, but shook his head. "Fine, but if I tell you two to back out and go home, you go home, you hear me?" Jiriaya rounded on Gai, who didn't even flinch beneath his drenched bowl cut. "And you protect her at all costs."

"Yes, sir!"

Murasaki's lips curved up into a mischievous, almost alluring smile.

"You two had better do as I say." Jiraiya hissed, casting his spawn a worried look.

XxX

A/n: What! I'm alive, I just haven't been able to write as often as I would like...