Dystopia Unleashed
By WhoIsThisDamnAuthor
Happy hours, everyone!
A recent experiment with, let's say, substances, has done this story a little good.
Returned some of it's original, multiple-POV style to the narrative.
Read and enjoy.
DISCLAIMER : THE OPINIONS EXPRESSED IN THIS FANFIC ARE SOLELY MINE. INTENDED TO HURT KISHIMOTO-SENSEI IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE.
Chapter 14: Return
"We're HOOOOMEEEEE!?..."
The look of excitement on Minato's face was quickly replaced by a dead-fish glare. Eyes half-lidded, he looked at the person standing at the village gate with barely concealed contempt. This was not who he'd expected would be greeting him after he'd returned.
"Ah...heh..." the middle-aged man clearly seemed at a loss for words.
"Let's go, people." the blonde Jonin walked past without a single fuck given, leaving behind a open-mouthed Jiraiya, who looked like someone had just shot him in the chest with a bazooka. It probably didn't help the image he was trying to portray very much, standing there pretending to clutch an imaginary hole in his chest, pretending to gasp for his last dying breath.
The team of four followed their leader solemnly, ignoring the sad, creepy man who'd just glanced lasciviously at a babe bending over to pick potatoes out of a vendor's cart. Suppressing his nosebleed, Jiraiya turned, hurrying behind Minato, who was doing his best to walk away as quickly as he could.
"Ah, come on, Minny! Don't be like that!" even at the mention of that extremely compromising nickname, the blonde hadn't stopped or looked back, a slight tightening of his fist the only indication of emotion.
The Sannin, too, wasn't one to simply roll over and let Minato ignore the shit out of him. Oh no. Matching the Jonin's pace, he put on his creepiest smile, and began speaking in an oily voice. "But Minny-san," he began, "aren't these your very capable Genin I see walking so obediently behind you? Don't you think they deserve to know everything about their sensei? And by everything," his voice got even greasier, till every syllable dripped with slime. "I mean eeeeeveeeerrrrryyttthing..."
The silver-haired dude's monologue came to an abrupt end when Minato's fist connected with his face. Like a cartoon character, his face squished inwards, and stayed there, partially hidden underneath the fist still digging into the front. The scene took a pause, allowing the audience a very well-deserved laughter break.
"Um, Minny," Jiraiya still wasn't done. In a nasal voice reminiscent of a bad head cold, he continued, "I'm very certainly not going to mind if you don't talk to me. But I'm sure the children will be very interested to know about your dirty desires, ones you only let Kush..."
The characteristic vein popping on his forehead, Minato's second fist had joined his first. "Will you shut the freaking hell up, geezer? I'm trying to go peacefully to HQ, debrief and end my pathetic excuse for a mission, so that the injured member in my team can get medical attention, but are these stupid childish games all you want to come up with now, korra? HUH?" Sending his cultured language to the gutter, he held his master by the collar, looking like a member of the yakuza. All that image was missing was some OG shades and a bunch of people going 'Aniki!' to the rhythm of a beatboxer.
Jiraiya tried to pull off a casual, non-committal smirk, but the nosebleed and the bruising under his eyes just made it even more loser-esque. Dropping him down onto his staggering feet, Minato gave a very audible sigh, and walked off towards HQ in a huff. Hefting their bags, his students followed suit, save for one gray-haired fanboy, who looked like he'd just seen a cow give birth in excruciating detail.
"J-j-j-Jiraiya-sama!" the hermit's eyes flashed over, clearly not expecting such an honorific from the child who appeared the most delinquent of them all. Kakashi's eyes shone as he eerily felt up Jiraiya's hands with his own, a reverent gentleness to his touch. Minato had paused for just a second, before walking away, muttering 'perverted child' under his breath as he exited the scene as it began steadily getting creepier behind him.
Meanwhile, the sage had extricated his hands from the visibly shaking kid, face scrunched in disgust at the sheer amount Kakashi had drooled over them. "I may never wash my hands again. Evar." Kakashi was exhibiting a severe case of Otaku-sickness, the characteristic condition of any teenager after meeting his idol. It was disturbing to hear those ugly words coming out of the normally composed Kakashi's mouth, and even worse to see him lose his entire sense of self-worth by mooning over the slightly abashed Jiraiya.
"You can return him as and when he regains control over his saliva," Minato said flatly, and walked off towards HQ.
Goku, Obito and Rin followed, guffawing loudly enough for the entire village to hear.
Sarutobi Hiruzen was intrigued, and a little angry.
"Got injured like that by a few animals? How incompetent are you, Minato?" as the Jonin opened his mouth to answer, the Sandaime held up a silencing hand. "The fact that they had Sharingan embedded in their eyes does earn you a little respite, but I cannot overlook your shoddy work."
Minato simply stared at his sandals. The more meekly he accepted whatever, the faster this would get resolved. The Hokage had gotten more and more irascible ever since he had become a Jonin, punishing even the smallest of his mistakes heavily, and very rarely praising his achievements, if at all. It wasn't like he expected a pat on the back for bringing him that arthritis medicine in secret, but at least a word in edgeways about his mercurial rise among the shinobi ranks would be sheer courtesy.
"It is unforgivable that the leader of such a special unit, one with more members to boot, couldn't spare the effort to protect his proteges from harm, especially a protege that said leader had personally escorted into the village, is it not? Don't even bother to argue, you little whippersnapper..." Goku had tried to protest against this barrage of admonition, but Hiruzen wasn't going to let anyone talk at all.
Understand my position, you rascals, the old man mused. There wasn't the slightest doubt in his mind that Danzo was listening in to the conversation, and would have been rubbing his palms in glee at the mention of the Sharingan, if he had been retarded enough to do something so utterly cliche. Every move this new child was making was giving the Uchiha-hater another reason to convince the elders that a...cleansing...of sorts was needed in the village population.
Dismissing them with a wave of his hand, he buried his aching head in his palms. Minato sensed that it was probably a sign to get the hell out of there. Ushering the Genin, he made a quick exit.
Hiruzen massaged his throbbing temples gingerly. The migraine cure Tsunade had tried on him the other day had stopped working. It wasn't the medical genius's fault; age had finally caught up with the once-invincible Hokage. Although there had never been a time when he'd had absolute authority over the village council, ceding some of it to Danzo, he now felt his resolve faltering every time they scheduled a session together. The feeling that he was going to be puppeted soon, turned into a figurehead for Danzo's schemes, was growing stronger every day.
He had to choose a new leader for the village before the council decided to choose one in his stead, a leader that would most certainly not work for the best interests of the village, or so was his opinion. Who was he to judge what someone else thought? Especially considering the fact that there had been one Great Shinobi War under his leadership, and the threat of a third such instance loomed in the future, he was certainly not someone who could push his philosophy upon others.
I must discard this outdated method of thinking. Danzo, too, in his way, is steadily toiling for Konoha's betterment. It is just that his image of the ideal village differs from my own. My own myopia has led me to this corner I cannot seem to get out of.
Hiruzen steeled himself as he heard the inevitable knock on the door. Shimura Danzo entered without permission, closing the door behind him.
I must handle him. For my peace of mind, at the very least.
"So, that's exactly how C-Rank missions go, I'm afraid," Minato ran a hand through his hair, debriefing his Genin informally on the staircase outside HQ. "Anyway, you all have performed admirably, considering it was your first mission of this difficulty." Rin and Goku shared a skeptical look. They'd both seen other teams come in after C-Rank missions and B-Rank, even, without so much as a scratch on them.
"What happened with Goku was a result of an unforeseeable circumstance, and for that, I apologize. Let's go to Tsunade's place to get you fixed up," Goku nodded to the other two, and they gratefully leapt away from HQ to their own homes. C-Rank missions had a four-day resting period assigned to them, reduced to three because of the significant number of recon and surveillance missions being run by Jonin squads.
"See you at the ground for training tomorrow!" the blonde shouted to the rapidly receding backs of his students. "Come. Let's get you healed."
Goku stepped out onto the main street, glad that the ordeal was finally over. Now all he had to do was get healed, and he could restart his training.
Training. He suddenly lifted his good arm and punched himself in the head. Hard. The crack resounded through the courtyard, and Minato turned with a puzzled expression on his face. Waving the Jonin off, he continued to berate himself wordlessly. His entire life before this one had been dedicated to his physicality. Whenever he got an opportunity to further his skills, he took it, to hell with the consequences. His family had thought he was dead, for Kami's sake, when he'd gone and trained with the Yadrat clan for the secret of Instant Transmission. Had the Dragon not told them he was alive, they would have never known.
The repercussions of his extremely self-centered actions used to slide off of him like water of a sheet of wax paper. Chi-Chi had resigned herself to the fact that her husband kept her last in his list of priorities, a whole lot of steps below even 'hanging out with Master Roshi'. He had been absent for most of Gohan's childhood and adolescence, simply because he thought too highly of his own significance. And then the most important example would be him simply choosing to fuck off to some random place on Shenron's back, again leaving his family behind.
The long, long time he had gotten to contemplate about all these selfish things he'd done had built a sort of suspicion in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, his way of going about life was wrong. Maybe he needed to slow down and smell the roses once in a while, choosing the company of people he loved over leaving them behind to go and fucking train.
Those ten days before the Cell Games were some of the best days of my entire life, he mused, a little upset by his own obsession with getting stronger. That very urge to get better, the competitive streak in him, was what had protected the denizens of Earth, Namek, and possibly the universe, as he was only able to beat the strongest of the bastards who threatened to disrupt everything in order to reach their half-crazed goals.
But here... Why can't I get myself to rest a little bit? Why does this constant need to work and improve plague my mind so? Why can't I simply take a day off and spend it having lunch with Mikoto, or listening to Kushina whine about anything at all? Why...
"We're here," Minato tapped the distracted Saiyan on the forehead, bringing him back to the present. They were in front of a very nondescript single-floor hut. Stepping up to the door, Minato knocked thrice. A full minute later, Tsunade opened the door, the obvious question already in her eyes.
"Could you please heal..." Minato began.
"No." the door slammed shut. The Jonin winced at the sudden noise. Knocking again, he yelled through the thick wood. "Come on! As a favour! I'll owe you big time!"
They waited for another five minutes, before they decided to give up. "The hospital it is," Minato said with a resigned smile.
"I don't understand why that is a bad thing," Goku had a frown on his face. "I perfectly like being normal, you know. I don't want this unnecessary attention. You wouldn't have taken the others to the lady to be healed, right?" Minato was stunned. Apparently, the realization that he was being partial was only hitting him now.
"Okay..." he sighed as he spoke. There was absolutely no need for Goku to get healed any faster than the others. He wanted the Saiyan to fit in, not stand out like a special case. The resentment was a burden most found too heavy to carry. He wasn't sure whether Goku could handle it, but he definitely was not going to try and take that risk. It meant he had to keep Goku as low-key and normal as he could be. Even if it meant a slower recovery. Even if he knew the village's best healer personally.
"Come," he beckoned. "I'll take you to the village hospital-"
BOOM!
The door to the hut behind them opened with a sudden crash. A very annoyed Tsunade stood at the entrance, with Jiraiya smiling shamelessly behind her. Grabbing the teenager by the scruff of his neck, she pulled him inside and shut the door before Minato could even react. Completely bamboozled, the blonde simply waited outside, scratching his head.
What the hell just happened?
Goku's face was crinkled up in pain, as he nursed his shoulder wound. The interior of the dwelling was pretty cramped. It was clear that this was a house meant to entertain just one person, and a maximum of two if they didn't mind sitting uncomfortably close to each other. It was quite the struggle, therefore, for the four people currently occupying the place. The Saiyan counted the healer lady, the gray-haired hermit dude and his gray-haired fanboy. Somehow, this seems like the beginning of a comedy skit I really don't wanna be a part of.
"Let's get you healed, you little twerp," the first character and a half of her name fit her perfectly. Tsun-tsun it is... Placing her palm over his bandaged shoulder, she just concentrated a little. Goku felt the same numbness crawl underneath his skin, the tissue inside tingling like it had fallen asleep. He'd experienced this sort of rapid healing only two times before this, and the third definitely wasn't the charm. He struggled to remain still as the ugly crawling sensation began spreading outward through his body, targeting training injuries and other small bruises and cuts he had acquired over the last few days.
After she was done, Tsunade gave him a cursory visual examination, checking for areas she might have missed. Her eyes constantly darted over to his tail, the only unusual part of his anatomy. Goku felt no embarrassment; he was used to people's shocked expressions as they'd seen his tail for the first time in their lives. He was surprised, rather, at their uncharacteristic lack of emotion.
I guess seeing crazy people everywhere does give you a kind of accept-it-all perspective on life.
The man who had claimed to be Minato's sensei finally got himself away from Kakashi, turning to the healer lady. "Tell me, Tsunade," he began, "Is this the legendary protege you were telling me about?" Goku felt his cheeks heat up. He barely knew her, and she was naming him as a 'legendary protege' already? It wasn't something that happened everyday, apparently.
"Shut up, Jiraiya." There was not even a tinge of embarrassment on Tsunade's face. She probably hadn't said it, then. Goku felt like a retard for getting his hopes up. He was still extremely insignificant in the village, and getting healed twice by her most probably meant nothing. However, her invitation to train under her still stood, as far as Goku remembered; after he became a Chuunin, he could become her apprentice. Maybe she meant future protege.
"Tell me your name, kid," Jiraiya suddenly seemed very interested in him. Making very creepy eye contact, he gestured for him to answer, all the while pushing away the indignant gray-haired teenager craving his idol's attention.
"Son Goku," he replied, suddenly remembering that Minato was waiting outside. He rose to leave. No one stopped him, or gave even the slightest of fucks whether he stayed or left. Thoroughly confused, the Saiyan exited the hut of crazy people, returning to the only slightly less crazy real world. Minato was sitting on a bench on the other side of the road. Goku wasn't looking at his blonde sensei at all, though. What caught his eye first was the girl sitting next to him.
The premonitions flashed through his head. He struggled to keep his expression neutral as visions of a probable future continued to torture him, continually superimposing her tear-stained, depressed face over her current visage. Walking up, he raised his hand, managing to utter a mumbled 'Hi'. Uchiha Mikoto smiled, and Goku's universe was suddenly filled with an abundance of hue. Everything was saturated with color, and his nightmares already seemed less important.
"How was your mission? I heard from Minato that you got injured badly on this trip as well," she shot an angry glance at the Jonin, who didn't notice it. It seemed like the Uchiha still hadn't gotten over the blonde's maniacal explosion and subsequent buttrape of his Genins. It had been more than a month now, so why hadn't she forgotten it yet? Maybe it's because she loves-
NO!NO!NO! He repeated as he crashed his head into the nearest lamppost. That dream was nothing if not a skilled rapist fucking his life over repeatedly. For the millionth time, he desperately wished to un-see that ridiculous succession of events his mind had supposedly conjured up from thin air. He had to suppress these uncertain feelings he had for her, until he was old enough to do something about, and most likely for decades after. The very thought of sullying their friendship with the sort of ugly, couple crap running through his mind was despicable.
I will never allow myself to fall that low.
Never.
"Son-kun?"
No one had spoken a word in the last minute and a half, which was extremely startling for the Uchiha, for she had just asked Goku a very pertinent question. The Saiyan seemed extremely fidgety today, and his usual eagerness to train didn't seem to be the reason. He was very clearly avoiding all eye contact with her, sending her mind awhirl with possibilities. Could it be true?
Did he actually slip and hurt himself again, like Minato told me? Is he seriously that much of a dolt when Kushina and I'm not around? She mused, her pathetic, innocent mind completely unaware of the treasonous thoughts currently weighing on the Saiyan. She was still young; those that age very rarely contemplated over the consequences of their actions, choosing to live life exactly as they see fit. Even considering the accelerated growth of maturity she had earned by being a part of the conspiracy-filled environment that the Uchiha enclosure had become, she'd learned to leave all that behind her. She now had good friends outside her clan, almost exclusively so. Kushina was like a sister to her; at least where it mattered most.
As for Son-kun... She couldn't really put words to the kind of emotions that ran through her every time she had a conversation with him. In some way, he always understood what she was getting at, arriving at heavy, often undescribable conclusions without her having to ever more than vaguely describe them. It was as though he knew how to read minds; one moment she would be hesitating about revealing stuff about herself that she considered personal or embarrassing, the next he would guess exactly what it was, without fail. Either he was just an extremely smooth talker (LOL), or he simply had recognized the value of a true connection, and this was the reward the two of them shared out of it.
She already knew about his rather convoluted history. The story of his life had been the topic of conversation many, many times. Of course, a person couldn't be summarized at all in the span of a couple of hours, so whenever they'd met for dinner over the last month and a half, she'd gotten to know him a little better. There was still a lot of details he'd glossed over for the sake of brevity, and she intended to drag every last facet of his previous lives out of him. The conversation always went two ways, however, and she'd revealed the same amount about herself to him, sometimes indulging his curiosity to the point where she often feared that she would let confidential information slip. Not that Mikoto cared; the tensions between her clan and the village were merely an annoying throb of the head compared to the constant migraine that was the ugly relations between the shinobi villages.
It was a result of these meetings and constant reminders of the sheer chemistry between the two of them that her feelings for him had begun to shift. Having begun as a rather senpai-esque affection for a junior following the same path in life as her, it had metamorphosed into a tumultuous torrent of admiration and empathy. She looked forward to his company with a smile on her face, always expecting a good time, and always having a better two hours than she'd ever thought. Their usual requests for dinner together had now become extremely informal, with a simple 'Dinner?' followed by a just as succinct 'Cool'.
Somehow, Son-kun felt a little off today. She thought she'd gotten to know him well enough to understand when he was simply sulky and wanted to rant at Kushina's demon-like training, or when he felt down about getting ragged by Kakashi in sword drills yet again. This was a side of him she'd not seen before. He kind of looked like someone carrying the burden of a thousand sorrows on his back. It was a load she'd never seen him ever struggle to keep up with. He dealt with sadness and mirth with the same attitude; with a no-fucks-given smile on his face and a determination that would put some of the village's finest to shame. That very smirk of self-confidence had been missing from his face, and it was becoming glaringly obvious that something very bad had happened during their mission.
I must find out out what he's struggling with.
"Dinner?" she called out, breaking the long silence.
"Cool," the Saiyan replied subconsciously, probably not even registering the question. He had become so accustomed to the query that it didn't require him to think before answering it. Suddenly, as his mind finally wrapped around what he'd just said, he shook himself out of his reverie, protesting that he actually couldn't make it. Mikoto brushed his feeble attempts to postpone their meeting, determined to put his mind at ease. He'd done the exact same to her many times in the past, when he'd noticed her feeling off-colour or depressed. Finally, with a defeated slump to his posture, he hung his head and agreed with a softly muttered 'Fine'.
There we go. Was that really so hard now, Son-kun?
"MINATO!"
The three whipped their heads toward the source of the voice. One glance at Kushina's livid face told Goku and Mikoto enough.
"Training?" he asked.
"Cool,"
Disappearing from the scene as quickly as they could, the two ran over to the lush lawns of the training grounds. Goku wasn't surprised in the least that his speed and footing had become even better after that healing. Saiyan regeneration was an insane blessing. Slowing down because of fatigue, and because reaching before the Uchiha did made no sense, he kept pace with her, finally taking a big dive onto the slope leading to the ground and rolling down, laughing uproariously. Trying to get up after a roll like that was much harder than they'd ever imagined. Even if one did manage to get to his feet, the awkwardness made them laugh so much that both plopped back down onto the ground.
After a whole five minutes, they gave up, choosing to just lay down and stare at the sky until the spinning stopped. Mikoto cast a quick glance at Goku. The smile was back, as though all the burdens and distractions from a few minutes ago had been forgotten. She felt quite relieved after seeing that; Son-kun still had his sense of self intact. A small smile formed on her lips as well.
I hope you stay like this forever, Son-kun.
As the sun set over the village, a meeting of the utmost importance was being held in the Hokage's chambers. Shut from the beautiful twilight, the conference required a great amount of secrecy, for this was to decide the future of the village, and the direction it would eventually take.
Shimura Danzo stood next to his arch-rival, watching in silence as Sarutobi Hiruzen addressed the Jonin gathered there. It was a brief speech, as most were already familiar with the procedure, having been senseis of Genin teams for quite a while. The briefing was never effective; as far as Danzo remembered, only the imbeciles' ambition to have a team graduate to Chuunin as early as possible determined whether they would be participating in the hallowed inter-village kill fest or not.
The last Chuunin Selection Examination that had involved every village come together had happened four years ago, and the annual tournament had been cancelled due to the events of the Second Shinobi War. Even so, in these times of relative peace, violence was going to be the order of the day, resulting in a large number of casualties and unforeseen 'accidents'. Danzo was sure that the scatterbrained louts in front of him paid no heed to the dangers of placing their mere fledglings into such a torrential, chaotic deathmatch.
Even in his time as an instructor, he'd never hesitated to push his three names forward, notwithstanding the fact that every Genin he'd ever trained had died or had somehow faked his death to join the Root instead. He'd always ensured that only people capable of pulling off such deceit were assigned under him in the first place; that way, his turnover of students into Root assassins who could and would do anything he wanted was pretty high.
The only one among the Jonin who seemed a little concerned for his subordinates was Namikaze Minato. It looked like the blonde was giving it a lot of thought. But then again, he had to. Choosing your best three out of four was always a problem, especially when all of them were doing very well for themselves, each not ceding even a little ground to the other. Danzo didn't see as to how skill even played a part in this; of course the outsider had to stay one, so he couldn't be entered as a participant. However, Hiruzen didn't share his mindset, choosing instead to oppose him every chance he got.
Merely a month and a half after the child had appeared on the scene, he was going to get a chance to go toe-to-toe with some of the best in his generation? The whole notion was utterly retarded, but what could be done? As looking at Hiruzen's irritating face reminded him, he wasn't the Hokage, and what he said held less weight as compared to the benevolent, if slightly too pacifistic Sarutobi. He'd managed to somehow return to prominence in the Council, regaining his poise little by little, holding fast and convincing the elders that Goku was actually an asset to the village, but he could be more useful once he was able to undergo the training and apprenticeship that Tsunade had planned for him once he became Chuunin.
He was basically paving the way for the child to rise among the ranks, spoonfeeding him every step of the way, making him invaluable in the eyes of the elders and the feudal lord. Danzo very firmly believed that the thirteen-year-old whelp had done absolutely nothing to deserve such an expedited career. But again, Hiruzen had used his position to his advantage, arguing that he was made Hokage for a purpose, and that was for the good of Konoha. When he drew that particular sword, Danzo was helpless against it.
The leader of Team 4 stepped up. "I propose that my team, consisting of Sarutobi Asuma, Kurenai Yuuhi and Namiashi Raido for the Examination. I believe that they have the experience necessary to become Chuunin, what with them having been Genin very efficiently for the last month now." The Hokage nodded, not raising any questions at all. It was obvious that this team would be entered. It was high time they became Chuunin.
The sudden declaration from the first Jonin sort of broke a dam, and proposals came rushing forth. Akimichi Choza, another Jonin whose team was a clear favorite, put forth his names too. Maito Guy, Shiranui Genma and Ebisu were going to enter the examinations after four years, the longest any sensei had ever waited to put in names for his team. Danzo wrinkled his nose in disgust. The very mention of that only-taijutsu moron was enough to ruin his mood for the entire day, forget letting him even enter the selection test.
Minato clearly was the most dilemmatic of the leaders. He'd only recently become a Jonin-sensei, so putting up his very first team up for the examinations in their rookie year was quite the leap of faith. Sure, the new generation of Jonin were a tad more reckless than their predecessors, but a risk such as this one was unwarranted. If that hadn't been enough to go on, he had the added problem of singling out the one who wouldn't be entering this time. It was extremely uncomfortable for only one of them to set their ambitions aside and let the others go forth. Plus, the one left behind would have to form a new team with his or her juniors, and that was never going to be acceptable at all.
Also, if he'd been asked to put his team forth before their C-Rank mission, he would have sent in Goku, Kakashi and Rin in without any hesitation. Now, with Obito's sudden rise to prominence with his newfound Sharingan, and Goku's weird dreams and mental instability, his choice had become even harder to make. Kakashi was a prodigy who deserved nothing other than becoming a Chuunin as fast as he possibly could. So he had to put in a team, but choosing two out of the other three was going to be a hassle.
"Minato?" Sarutobi spoke up, concerned that the blonde hadn't proposed a team yet. "Haven't you decided who will be the one sitting out?" Minato hesitated a second, before opening his mouth to speak. "I-I-I have..." he said reluctantly. So he's chosen to eliminate the outsider. Danzo felt a grudging respect for the eighteen-year-old. Despite his varied shortcomings, Minato had shown some decent resolve in this choice. But then again, that was to be expected from somebody of his rank. On the contrary, it would have been a huge disappointment had he decided to ask for special treatment, or chosen to not enter this year at all.
The child took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I propose Hatake Kakashi and Uchiha Obito as one team, and Nohara Rin with Son Goku as another."
The entire room went dead silent. Shimura Danzo was stunned as well. Just what exactly are you thinking, you rotten child? There was a reason that rule existed. And it's very macabre nature had made sure that it was used in only the most extreme of conditions. The blonde was invoking that rule for a cause as trivial as this one? It was unthinkably reckless. It was a rule that had been written for teams where one of their members had passed away. Thinking that no one would invoke it, ever, its wording had been left vague and abstract, open to interpretation. Minato was taking advantage of this fact to bend the rules in his favour, submitting two teams of two.
He must be extremely confident in his subordinates to propose this in a time such as this. Even in completely peaceful times, pitting two against three was sheer madness. This crosses the line entirely. Hiruzen, you cannot allow this. Danzo rose, ready to reprimand the upstart child.
"I shall allow it." There was a touch of steel to Hiruzen's voice that made Danzo stand down without speaking a word. "That shall be all. Your presence here for this meeting is appreciated. Dismissed," he waved them off. The conviction in Hiruzen's voice had made it impossible to not suspect the Hokage for having ulterior motives in this. Danzo stayed back, and as the last Jonin closed the door behind him, he exploded.
"What is the meaning of this, Hiruzen?" he demanded? "Are you trying to give your favorite team a chance to collaborate and spoon-feed their way to the top? This will mean that they will never learn what it means to become truly strong in this world, never learn what it takes to survive," he exclaimed, face contorted with anger.
Hiruzen said nothing. He merely picked up a letter from his desk, handing it to the infuriated Danzo. As his eyes scanned the words on the paper, his eyes widened with renewed shock. It was a withdrawal letter from Goku, resigning his participation in the Chuunin selection Examination. It was worded in a formal way, stating 'unpreparedness' as a reason to not take part in an examination as challenging as it was.
Danzo, instead of being satisfied by this recent development, chose to display a completely different side of his character, one that only came out very rarely.
"HUH?"
Hiruzen flashed one of his rare smiles as well. It was not very often that one saw Shimura Danzo flabbergasted, gawking like an idiot.
Just what is happening?
The lights of Ichiraku's ramen restaurant beamed brightly. The establishment had been a major success, mainly because of the initial capital Goku had helped create. Uchiha Mikoto stood underneath the awning, dressed in a flowery kimono. It was raining outside, and she'd only just managed to take shelter before her clothes got wet. She cast a quick glance at her wristwatch. There were still five minutes to go. Goku had promised to be on time this time.
And there he was, walking on the muddy street without an umbrella, smiling up at the cloudy heavens with unrestrained relief. He had changed into a clean gi, but it was pretty wet by then. His hair hung down, losing their spiky appearance because of the rain. Mikoto's heart descended a little from her mouth as she looked at his carefree expression. His sudden meeting with the Hokage had gone well, apparently.
Stepping underneath, he smiled in lieu of a greeting. She couldn't help but return the same emotion. Today, there was no reason to be depressed, or sad in any way. Today, he didn't need to return home early in order to sleep for the next day's training. Today, she could stay with him for as long as she wanted.
"So, how did it go?" she asked as they entered. Ichiraku waved excitedly at them, motioning towards the seat nearest to his wok. Sitting on the tall stool, Goku turned to her and nodded confidently.
"It went rather well, I must say," Goku replied. "He asked a few questions, and I answered them. His Excellency seemed very satisfied by my story, judging by his expression after I was done."
"Don't get your hopes up, Son-kun," she cajoled him gently. "Sarutobi-sama does have a very sadistic sense of humor."
"Really?" Goku smirked. The ramen had arrived, and he was attacking his bowl with reckless abandon, spilling miso soup all over the counter. "He said that I could do whatever I wanted for the next three days, before starting my training under the healing lady in parallel with my missions." he said, punctuating his words with gulping noises.
"Tsunade-sama, Goku," Mikoto let out a chuckle at Goku's lack of respect for his to-be sensei. Goku didn't give a damn. He was too busy ordering another five bowls, which Ichiraku matched with a resounding 'Okay!' from behind the counter.
"Have you always been this relaxed, Goku?" she asked in an undertone, almost a whisper.
"I have occasionally taken time off, you know," he replied. "However, I've never taken a long, three-day break such as this one. Even the ten days I spent with my family before we fought Cell, we stayed transformed, learning how to make it easy to maintain that state without significant effort."
"Transformed?" he hadn't told her he could do that. Maybe he turns into that ripped adult form he showed us when he was performing the clone jutsu...
"Oh, it's nothing," Goku hastily added. "We used to use our Ki to turn our hair golden, and our eyes blue-green. We used to feel stronger that way." Mikoto laughed softly, trying to fathom how Goku would look as a blonde. The resulting image came out as a mixture of Minato and Goku that made her laugh so hard that she fell off her chair. Goku was off his too in an instant, his hand grasping her shoulder with a firm yet gentle grip.
"Are you okay?" he asked. She brushed his hand away, returning to her chair. It was exactly this deep concern he had for others that made him so easy to hang out with. "I'm fine, really. Go on. Blonde, you say?"
Listening to him protest against being called 'blonde', she couldn't help but feel elated too. Her own missions were completed, and their team had been assigned a rest period of five days before their next series of missions. She could spend as much time with him as she wanted. He would probably end up going to the training grounds, to watch his team practice hard. Their Chuunin Examination had been preponed, so it would be taking place three months from then, instead of a year like it had been earlier. Even Mikoto knew that making Kakashi's life a living hell was a fun thing to do, especially for the Saiyan.
This is going to be extremely fun.
Don't you think so, Son-kun?
HAH!
Against all odds, I have finished this chapter in under a month.
I really want to keep up this pace, but I will be working on ARTH for the next few days, so no guarantees that I'll do it.
That fic really needs a fresh kick to get it rolling again. Needs it badly.
Anyways, do tell me about any thoughts you might have.
Cheers.