Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Replication
Arguably, the most important part of the scientific study is replication. In research, once a study is published, the hope is for other researchers to conduct the same experiment with the same variables and controls to get the same results. Because if they do, the odds of the hypothesis being correct become more likely and scientifically sound. Without experiments being replicated, errors or fudged data could run rampant. And misinformation spread.
Sometimes, memories pop into my head for no apparent reason. Generally, in an unhelpful and uninvited manner. And some were more often recalled than others.
I remember being six. I remember sitting in the front row of Daikoku-sensei's empty classroom; my feet not touching the floor. The left side of my face was bruised. My knuckles were swollen and the surrounding skin was cut open. School was over. But I'd been asked to stay behind. Something the other students of class three took glee in as they exited the room.
In class three, staying behind meant one thing; being dropped from the academy. It had happened to a handful of others. Those deemed too slow, weak, or lacking to ever grow into a shinobi. But why me? That I couldn't figure out. I was making progress. All math assignments were done quickly and accurately. I was one of the few who already memorized the Hiragana characters and their sounds. And in today's unsanctioned lunch brawl, I managed to knock the air out of two opponents before getting tackled.
"Rion", Daikoku-Sensei spoke slowly; back tensely straight as a stranger leaned against the blackboard. I didn't know who this person was. The headband militantly worn around the man's forehead marked him as one of us. But he wasn't an academy teacher. My eyes flickered back to Daikoku-Sensei. "Did you cheat?" He asked; holding up one of the benchmark tests we had to take every two weeks.
I squinted my eyes at it; annoyed by the low score of 58% marked in red before shaking my head. The math portion I always got full credit on (Except when there were word problems). But the reading portion continued to best me. Though 58% was still better than the first benchmark test. At least now, I could write my name and sound out some basic words.
Daikoku-Sensei's eyes dashed behind him. The stranger remained unmoved. "Are you sure?" He pressed, shaking the test paper to help me refocus. The stranger still hadn't moved. "There was multiplication on this week's test. Something I haven't taught yet".
Frowning, I crossed my arms and leaned back. Something in my mind was nagging me to be careful. But… Why? "Who could I cheat off of?" I challenged. "Everyone in this class is as dull as a blunted kunai".
Daikoku-Sensei's lips twitched. However, the stranger's presence kept him from smiling like he wanted to. "If the girl didn't cheat, then she'll be able to get the same result". The stranger said; his words rolling out of his throat like gravel.
Daikoku-Sensei swallowed before nodding. He turned his back to me long enough to exchange my test for a new one. "This will be timed", he informed me; placing the test and a pencil in front of me. This test was only one page. Littered with evenly spaced-out basic math fact problems. The things being taught in class; addition and subtraction. And things yet to be covered; multiplication and division. "You'll have five minutes". Daichi-Sensei waited until I was looking at him. "Begin".
Picking up the pencil, I rolled it in my hands; staring at the first problem. Did I want to do this? Attention was bad. Attention hurt. But I needed it to get through class three. And… Math was the only thing I was good at. Why shouldn't I show off? What's the point of having all these memories if I can't use them?
2+3=5 12-6=6 3x7=21 10+9=19
6x6=36 56÷8=7 25÷5=5 21-7=14
I was done in three minutes. Daikoku-Sensei didn't seem surprised as he took the paper from me; nodding every few seconds as he looked it over. "All correct", he announced; angling himself slightly to hand the test to the stranger. I watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. Who was this person? Why was he here?
A short moment of silence passed as the struggle passed as the stranger confirmed what Daikoku-Sensei reported. "Eleven multiplied by eleven", the stranger asked; eyes snapping in my direction.
"One-hundred Twenty-one". The number fell easily from my lips. Daikoku-Sensei seemed to puff up with pride. Not sure why. He hadn't done anything.
"Twelve multiplied by seven", the stranger asked again.
I glanced up and to the left; waiting for the answer to come. "Eighty-four".
The stranger placed the test down on Daikoku's desk. He stood straight and took a step forward. "Seven subtracted from nine, multiplied by four-"
"Wait", Daikoku-Sensei tried. "Aren't multistep problems asking too-"
The stranger held up a hand. "- add seventeen. Then divide your answer by two and square it".
I tapped my fingers on the desk. Order mattered… and so did the wording. Daikoku-Sensei turned back to me. "Rion, it's okay if you can't-"
"Thirty-six".
Daikoku-Sensei gaped at me as I kept my eyes on the stranger. Order of operations and negative numbers weren't to fool this six-year-old. The stranger wasn't as impressed as Daikoku-Sensei. "Who taught you arithmetic?"
That nagging feeling came back. "No one", I said with a shrug.
"Rion, that's impossible", Daikoku-Sensei insisted. "Someone must have-"
The stranger held up a hand again. "If no one taught you, how do you know?"
I swung my legs as I thought. That was a tricky question. I couldn't exactly explain my educational history that I wasn't old enough to accomplish. So, I came up with some bullshit. "It's not hard. Multiplication is green and addition and subtraction is yellow. So, multiplication has to go first. Nine is red. Four is blue. Together they make purple which is thirty-six. But this one was a very dark purple; making it negative. Seven and seventeen were lighter were lighter. They turned thirty-six into twelve. Still purple. But not as purple as thirty-six. And then-"
The stranger cut me off. Lucky timing too. Since I was running out of gibberish to spew. "You see numbers as colors?" he asked.
I nodded. "Doesn't everybody?" Here's hoping no one questioned why multiplication had a color.
"Synesthesia?" Daikoku-Sensei asked the stranger head turning away from me in the way adults did when they wanted to exclude a child from a conversation.
The stranger didn't answer. Instead, he walked toward the door. "Maybe", he threw over his shoulder. But I don't think it was meant as an answer. "I'll talk to our leader and let you know if we decide to continue with recruitment".
Sitting at a table close to the kitchen doors, I was drowning in paper. "How have you not gone out of business?" I complained. Even though Chiharu wasn't around to hear me. This was the consequence of breaking in after hours and raiding her inventory. I had to update and organize Chiharu's financial log. While Shikamaru and Chouji cleaned and bused tables. Or they would have if Chouji hadn't landed himself in the hospital and if Shikamaru didn't have the tournament to prepare for (Though, in truth, Shikamaru was ditching training to visit Chouji in the hospital).
I had a system. One that kept getting disturbed whenever Chiharu found another stack of invoices, receipts, or bank statements for me to sort through. And none of them were in chronological order!
Going month by month, I worked with four different columns. Column A described the transactions; who bought from the restaurant, who the restaurant bought from, and who the restaurant owed. In column B, I wrote in green ink. Column B was only filled in if the restaurant made money. Column C required a standard black pen. It was always filled in and represented how much money the restaurant had. Column D was filled in with a red pen; representing money the restaurant spent.
"Don't complain", Anzu scolded as she cleared and wiped down a nearby table. She dyed her hair a burnt orange not too long ago and the color paired surprisingly well with her work apron. "You're lucky Chiharu forgave you after last night. Helping out is the least you can do".
Anzu had gotten the full story (From Chiharu's perspective) this morning when she came in for her shift. Her face had flushed with embarrassment and irritation as Chiharu good-naturedly described finding her son, Shikamaru, and me helping ourselves to a late-night meal. "I don't mind feeding the children", Chiharu said as Anzu profusely apologized. "I just wish they'd ask first".
Trying to find everything dated for February of this year, I grumbled something incomprehensible. While a headache, this type of work didn't bug me. It was satisfying even. Especially if I got to see the finished product. But being here meant my friends and Naruto were in a hospital with a bloodthirsty monster wandering about. Not that I was planning on being there in the first place but… That didn't mean I wasn't going to feel guilty about it.
Scowling at a crinkled and stained invoice, I held it in front of my face. "The numbers are smudged. I can't even read this".
Straightening, Anzu picked up her tray loaded with dirty dishes. "If you try your best, I'll bring you some tea", she promised.
Rolling my head backward, I stared up at her. "I don't like tea". In response, Anzu shot me an unimpressed look. Her lips pressed in an unamused line. "Fine", I caved. Making sure to draw out the last sound like the whiney brat I am.
As Anzu disappeared into the kitchen, I got back to work. The soft chatter of the restaurant washed over me as my pencil scratched out numbers and I did basic calculations in my head. This would be much easier if I had a computer. Then I wouldn't have to redo sections when something was in the wrong order. It's a shame personal computers weren't a thing yet.
I'm not sure when I noticed, but slowly I looked up. The hairs on my arms standing on end. Directly across from me, seated at a table on the other side of the room, a man stared. A man wrapped in bandages with one eye visible. Danzo. When did he get here? Danzo didn't look away as I stared back. He hardly blinked; raising a teacup to his lips and sipping slowly. Weird…
The longer we sat there, staring; the harder it became to not fidget. I furled and unfurled my toes in my sandals. Just so I could move without being glaringly obvious about it. There wasn't anything concerning about Danzo eating at a restaurant. And anything Akimichi owned was popular amongst shinobi. But why was Danzo staring? Why was he staring at me?
Any guess I might have formed was interrupted by a red and white blur stepping in front of me. "You weren't at the bathhouse this morning. What's wrong? Taking the day off?"
My eyes refocused on Jiraiya as my grip tightened on my pencil. "Why are you here? With Naruto hospitalized, I thought you'd skip town by now".
"And leave without saying goodbye to your smiling face?" Jiraiya teased; skirting around whatever his real reason was for bothering the crap out of me. Same as always. Expression unhappy, I tried to peer around him to get another look at Danzo. But Jiraiya was too wide. "So, what's all this?" Jiraiya pressed. "Refinancing your mortgage?" He chuckled; finding himself funny.
"No, actually. I'm calculating some permutations to predict winning lottery numbers".
Blinking like an owl, Jiraiya peered down at the logbook with genuine interest. "Really?"
"No!" What was wrong with people? Duller than a blunted kunai, I swear.
There was a gasp. Quickly followed by the sound of a shattering ceramic. Broken from our usual back and forth, Jiraiya's and my head snapped in the direction the sound came from. Barely out of the kitchen doors stood Anzu. A small puddle of smelly leaf water stained the floor in front of her as shards lay scattered around it. Anzu didn't seem aware of it right away. Her attention was on Jiraiya; staring at him with large eyes and her lips forming an anxious grimace.
At the sound of something breaking, many heads in the restaurant turned in Anzu's direction. Most just looked on out of curiosity. But some started whispering. Jiraiya fixed the posture of his shoulders. His mouth was slightly open. As if he wanted to say something to Anzu. But, for probably the first time in his life, not a single sound escaped him.
An invoice became a wadded-up ball of paper as my hand curled into a fist around it. Too bad I had too much respect for Chouji's mom to stab someone in her establishment. Otherwise, Jiraiya would already have a kunai impaled somewhere on his person.
"What's happened here?" Chiharu asked as she bustled over from where she had been talking with a guest. Her brown eyes jumped from Anzu to Jiraiya. Her expression changed from concerned to protective in an instant. Chiharu's gaze swung down to the mess on the floor a second later. "Oh my!" She exclaimed; never forgetting her role as hostess. "Is everyone alright?"
The question seemed to snap Anzu out of whatever insecurity she was wading through. She focused on Chiharu and only Chiharu. "I'm sorry". Anzu's voice came out tight and weak. I hadn't heard her like this since the last time I saw her talking to Daichi. "I dropped it. It was my fault". Raising a hand, Anzu covered her mouth; eyes searching for a way out as Chiharu tried to assure her that accidents happened to everyone. "I'll find something to clean it up", Anzu excused herself. Turning and fleeing back into the kitchen in the same second.
Glaring at the one responsible, I tried not to notice the pained twitch in Jiraiya's expression. Or the grief clouding his eyes. "Leave", I ordered; talking as if I were spitting out venom.
Chiharu looked toward Jiraiya too as the other customers in the restaurant slowly turned back to their own business. "I think that would be best", she said. Though with a lot more tact than I had.
Jiraiya's mouth snapped shut as he nodded once. "Here", he offered; digging around in his pocket before pulling out a small coin purse. "For the tea", he said; holding it out for Chiharu to take.
Though Chiharu merely stared at it. "There is too much for a cup of tea".
But Jiraiya insisted. Pushing it closer to Chiharu until she was forced to take it. "She can keep the rest of it. Sorry for scaring your employee". Jiraiya spoke gruffly. Enough so that he was kind of hard to hear. Once freed of the money, Jiraiya turned. "See you around, kid". He said to me before walking away; hand raised in farewell.
I stared at his back as Chiharu shook her head before returning to the kitchen; taking the money with her. Why did Jiraiya come here? He hadn't ordered anything. There were no indecently dressed women here for him to spy on. As I thought, my eyes wandered over to a table across from mine on the other side of the room. A nagging voice in the back of my head told me to be careful. Danzo was gone.
Walking through the festival with Shikamaru, it was hard to act shocked or unnerved by what he was telling me. But I think I managed. "He was trying to kill Rock Lee?"
Hands jammed in his pockets, Shikamaru nodded as we skirted around a group of civilians who were enjoying the festival a little too much. "Good thing Gai-Sensei was there. I don't think my shadow would have held him for too long. Especially with Naruto wailing on him. The idiot didn't know that once my shadow's connected, I feel what happens to the target".
Two kids ran past us; giggling like mad as they raced from one game booth to the next. Shikamaru took his hands out of his pockets and raised his arms above his head to stretch out his back; a long and loud yawn escaping his mouth. I almost copied him; finding the action contagious. "Between this tournament, tomorrow's plan, murder plots, and Naruto claiming he has a monster inside of him-" Shikamaru shot me a sideways look. "I'm not sure I'll make it".
Bumping shoulders with him as we approached one of his dad's favorite haunts, I said, "Sorry, but you don't have a choice. You have to make it".
Shikamaru grunted in response.
"What would Chouji and I do if you weren't there to make plans for us?" Another grunt. Shikamaru returned to walking with slumped shoulders. "Chouji's too nice. I'm too…"
"Annoying", Shikamaru filled in the blank with a low grumble.
I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow. "Without you, Chouji wouldn't have a buffer to help him with Ino. I'd probably go clinically insane because-"
"You're already clinically insane", Shikamaru interrupted.
Just for that, he got jabbed a second time. We stopped in front of a bar and turned to face each other. "All I'm saying is… We need you".
For an awkward moment, we stared at each other. Shikamaru broke first. Sighing, he faced the door. "Troublesome", he muttered as he reached out and slid open the door. These awkward moments weren't foreign to us. We had many when Chouji wasn't with us to act as our guide through every irritating thing that was remotely close to emotional. But alas, his mom was determined to keep him home tonight. Something about festival food being too tempting and not needing to return to the hospital so soon after being released.
Inside the bar at the bar counter, sat who we were looking for. Shikaku, Choza, and Inoichi all had Sake and food in front of them. Some were more intoxicated than others. Choza's head swiveled in our direction as soon as we stepped foot inside. "Aha!" He exclaimed; raising a fist into the air as he smiled. "Reinforcements have arrived! Come join us and order something". I stepped forward to do just that. Chouji and his parents had a tendency to feed me whenever they saw me and it was a habit I had no problem with.
Shikamaru sighed painfully as his dad and Inoichi turned to look at us. "Hey, Dad. Can we go home already?" Shikamaru asked as he followed me further inside. Choza reached around Inoichi to hand me the menu; making sure to point out the fried chicken to me.
"What?" Shikaku complained as Choza waved down a server. I could go for some fried chicken. "Don't be a drag. There's a festival going on. Kids your age are supposed to enjoy it".
"So, what's your excuse then?" I asked, unable to help myself as Shikamaru came to stand next to me. Inoichi smiled into his sake cup as Shikaku awarded me with a scowl.
"This festival is too troublesome", Shikamaru complained. "I want to go to bed".
Ignoring me, Shikaku turned to his son as Choza pushed a half-eaten bowl of edamame towards me and Inoichi studiously returned to his drinking. "You idiot". Shikaku shook his head at his son's foolishness. "This festival happens the night before the final tournament every time Konoha hosts the chunin exams. It's tradition. Take advantage. You have a girl with you…" Slurring his words, Shikaku paused in his awe-inspiring speech. Just add the word youth and he could probably pass as Gai. His eyes briefly focused on me. "…Rion is a girl, right?" Inoichi choked on his sake as I threw an empty edamame shell at Shikaku's head. "Play some games. Eat some food. Live a little".
I didn't think it was possible, but Shikamaru appeared more tired than usual as he closed his eyes and let out a suffering whine. "I don't have time for this. I have to fight in that final tournament tomorrow. Why does mom make me babysit you?"
Bleary eyes, Shikaku stared at his son; wavering a bit in his seat. "You're competing? Seriously?"
Shikamaru flinched, but overall, he didn't seem surprised. "Never mind", he deflated. "Just forget it". Then he dutifully found an empty seat to occupy as we waited for the fried chicken I'd been promised.
