Chapter IX

Nothing but a Shadow of Himself

Sakura and I took the path leading to this forbidden access zone in the underground. The stone and cracked walls are narrow and plunged into obscurity; dim lights softly illuminate the hallways engulfed in darkness. Their time-worn state implies that these tunnels have existed for generations; their elaborate and thoughtful construction has allowed these walls to hold up for years, though constant renovations are erasing their age and wrinkles.

Connected directly to The Konoha hospital, it's here that the patients who have committed crimes and who belong in a cell are treated, although there are not only bandits who are locked up there. Sometimes, this place is used to accommodate unstable cases who need protection from the outside world or from themselves. These little-known places are used as a last resort, and Naruto fully meets the admission criteria.

Despite the narrowness of the corridors, the echo resounds with each of our steps and the silence worsens the already far too palpable tension. Since my whim, we have exchanged no words, no looks. Of course, I am not to blame for her pain. Sakura is Lady Tsunade's disciple, a trusted kunoichi. Yet, she's left out. Since she lets her emotions take over a little too often, I can understand why we don't want her involved right now.

My heart leaps in my chest each time we pass in front of a reinforced metal door, convinced that Naruto is behind the next one. I cannot wait to see him again, recognize him and not unrecognizable and literally on fire… However, because of his amnesia, I resolve to the fact that he will coldly stare at me when he sees me, as if I were a stranger in his eyes; I cannot say why, but it saddens me.

We turn the corner. At the end of the corridor, there is another door. We take a few steps forward and the latter opens with an odious creak, indicating that the hinges must be oiled. With his nonchalant and tired posture like a soul that has lived too long, I recognize Nara Shikamaru that is scratching the back of his head. In his hands, he holds a folder, at first glance copious given its thickness.

When he closes the door behind him, surprise overtakes him for a breath.

"Oh! Sakura! Kakashi-sensei!"

Mechanically, we come to meet the other.

"I didn't expect to see you on your feet yet," he says, quickly scanning me from head to toe. "That's good. She was impatiently waiting for you to wake up."

"I'm not in the best of shape, but I'll survive," I admit with a sigh. "Are you part of the team, Shikamaru?"

He nods, sighing too. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Sakura staring at the floor, visibly hurt.

"Ever since the incident, I've been cloistered in this village and I'm doing boring missions because of it. With Naruto back, she put me on the case, hoping my brain would find the key to all this mess. It's a hassle, but I prefer that than twiddling my thumbs all day and ending up like Kiba… The poor guy, he freaked out and Godaime had to send him on a mission…"

"I see. Do you have any leads?"

"Nothing," he sighs wearily. "They'll give you all the details once there…"

I realize that the information about Naruto is classified and that we avoid hallway noises about him. Behind this door is Naruto. He's very close, so close that I can brush him with my fingertips…

Shikamaru turns his attention to Sakura. "And you? What are you doing here? You know she—"

"Yes, I'm well aware, thank you!" she answers in a passive aggressive tone. "I accompanied Kakashi-sensei! Can I still do that or is that also forbidden?!"

"Whoa, calm down! I'm sorry. I ain't the one giving orders, you know…"

A silence settles and the atmosphere is excruciatingly tense all of a sudden.

And this silence is unlivable.

"...Naruto… Is he okay...?" Sakura mutters in a softer voice.

"He's alive. That's all I can say…"

I clench my fists, so much that my knuckles whiten. His tone of voice doesn't bode well. Rotten with pessimism, I sink into these mental tumults which accelerate my organ of love. To say that I am calm would be a lie. I sincerely fear what I will discover behind the door. I will soon unravel all its mysteries; only a few minutes to wait in this infernal wait.

I lay a gentle hand on the shoulder of my student who is suffering in a similar way to me. "Don't worry, Sakura. Everything will eventually get back to how things used to be. You can trust me," I say with a smile.

Just like me, she hides her moods behind a misleading smile; this is a facade to camouflage her sorrow and pain.

"You're right, Kakashi-sensei."

I show another smile before we say goodbye. The two youngsters walk away, leaving me behind.

It's only now that I notice how tight my ribcage is or this frantic race in my chest that doesn't seem to stop. My own words… I hardly believed them myself. In order to regain my calm and give me courage, I inhale many times. From then on, I enter this place which torments my mind by making the garish hinges of this door creak.

I expect the worst.

Like the corridors, a subdued light plunges the tiny room into soft darkness. Immediately, I am greeted and checked by two members of the Anbu who verify my identity. Having myself been part of the Anbu for almost ten years, this inspection is summary since they know me. They step aside to let me pass and continue their role of guardian, to make sure that anyone who doesn't have to set foot there turns back.

I walk through a second door which—this time—is silent. On the other side, I am dazzled by the many video monitors hanging on the wall, above a large desk overloaded with objects of all kinds; there are stacks of parchments, papers and old books misused by time. This small observation post is equipped with a video surveillance system that aims to record in real time what is happening in the cells.

I scan the screens one by one, but I cannot find Naruto anywhere… However, one detail makes me arch an eyebrow. The isolation rooms are bathed in darkness since the images are green and very dark, as if it were night-vision goggles. Goosebumps win me over; I have a bad feeling, and I don't know why.

Sitting on stools in front of the station in question, two guys in white coats turn to face me. On my left, I recognize Lady Tsunade, arms crossed and leaning against the wall.

"I didn't expect to see you on your feet already," she says, looking down at me.

Her words are true, I am fully aware of that. I have to rest, enjoy a good night's sleep; no need of medical skills to figure it out. Since I have nothing good to say, I remain silent.

"It doesn't matter," she sighs. "You arrived at the right time…"

"And Naruto?" I ask, looking at the screens. "Where is he? Did he say something? Or is he still unconscious?"

The Hokage frowns before approaching the observation post—something I imitate. With her finger, she points to one of the empty jails in which there are a toilet and a single bed with unmade sheets.

"He's currently hiding under the bed."

Perplexed, I blink many times. "What do you mean?"

"It's like that every time we enter the place," she explains, letting out another sigh. "He's been there for almost an hour this time. To answer your second question, he didn't say a word during our attempts to communicate with him. He categorically refuses to interact with us at all. We still don't know why."

I excused his silence by his state of shock which blinded his judgment. If he refuses to speak with anyone, the gathering of information on his part is compromised … especially since we were counting a lot on his voice to clarify this whole story.

We find ourselves empty-handed yet again.

"Shikamaru told me you'd brief me on the details. Did you find something?"

"Yes and no. We have more questions than we're having answers…"

She turns her head to address the scientists.

"Show the first recording."

"Understood!" one of the men nods before tapping on the machine.

On the main screen, the image sizzles for a breath, then stabilizes. It's the same cell that Lady Tsunade showed me, but this time, Naruto is lying on his back; either he's unconscious or he's sleeping. I guess it happened after I passed out. However, there is a noticeable difference. Instead of being plunged into darkness, the room, including the corridor in front of the cell, is cradled in a soft, rather relaxing light.

What I see next chills my blood.

Naruto wakes up and waves an arm in front of his eyes, as if he were dazzled. Then, he jumps up despite his injuries and the pain that makes him quiver. His blond mane and the tip of this strange tail resume this fiery appearance by igniting. Using his chakra acting as a driving wind, he sweeps flames to destroy all sources of light. In doing so, he utters an animal cry, and I contemplate with horror this feral gaze which possesses his irises which begin to glow in the dark.

Facing the metal bars, he takes a deep breath to blow—without any hand seals—a giant fire ball capable of calcining everything in its path. The splendour of the flames is so powerful that I no longer see anything on the screen. Despite the redness of the metal, it immediately regains its grey colours. The blond screams out loud like a dying beast. With unprecedented violence, he starts frantically hitting the prison bars, persisting on hitting them, again and again. It doesn't take long for blood to cover his knuckles and his hands. He tries to burn them with his fire breath, then punches the bars nonstop again.

"That's what happened when he regained consciousness," Lady Tsunade attests unnecessarily. "We had anticipated that he'd wake up in another fury. We've made sure the metal can withstand the most intense of heats. Naruto only uses the fire release and we haven't seen any techniques from his usual repertoire."

After more than a minute of struggling in vain, Naruto winces in pain, and this forces him to put an end to his violence. He curls up on his knees, placing his hands on his stomach, at the level of his wound. Then, the latter crawls miserably under the bed to hide there…

This Naruto… It's not the Naruto I know, and the thought breaks my heart; I feel as if I'm seeing a completely different person. I pity him. In all this, despite the low resolution, I notice how thin and weakened he is; his skin has become a macabre canvas on which his bones are outlined like sordid ornaments.

Though grief creeps into my soul, so does anger. Overwhelmed by this emotional torrent whose cruelty no one could guess, I struggle to keep my cool. I clench my fists so hard my fingernails dig into my flesh. All this tumult feeds the will of fire that shelters me and dictates my Nindō. I am more determined than ever to make the culprits pay.

"Then, we put the lights back on," Godaime continues darkly. "But Naruto is quick to destroy them the second he's alone again."

This explains why the places are in the dark.

"Would he be photosensitive?" I ask.

"Perhaps. But that's not what worries us the most…"

A silence, as the overwhelming tension becomes more so.

"He refuses to eat and drink. We cannot approach him or enter the jail without being repelled by his flames. I'm dead worry. His condition is deteriorating hour by hour, and we'll soon be forced to use the hard way. Even a ramen from Ichiraku doesn't attract the slightest glance…"

I am dumbfounded; I have no words and my lips froze. If we are really dealing with an amnesiac Naruto with a feral and aggressive temper, employing said strong manner would destroy any future trust gains with him. Nevertheless, I understand this decision of last resort, this dilemma that leads to hesitation, again and again.

Regarding his life, the choice is quickly made.

"Start the sixth recording," she orders, letting out a sigh.

They nod and one of them complies. On the same screen, Naruto is lying on the covers, on his side, motionless, facing the wall against which the bed is leaning. The video is accelerated to almost eight times its normal speed. From what I can see, the teenager doesn't leave his bunk and moves from one position to another. Sometimes sitting in a ball, burying his face behind his knees, sometimes lying down, contemplating emptiness and nothingness.

"Omitting those times when he goes into hiding for quite a while during our visits, that's what the last two days of observation look like. He also relieved his bladder only once, without flushing the toilet afterwards. I don't know what happened during his abduction, but his psyche is greatly affected and shows symptoms of mental distress just as worrying as his physical condition. In addition, his sleep cycle is different. He sleeps four to six hours in the morning and two to three hours in the late afternoon. He has no way of knowing the time of day, yet his cycle is regular."

I listen carefully to Lady Tsunade's monologue. In the meantime, I analyze the images, the information she has just given me; I carefully dissect everything in case they missed an important detail, although unlikely. To be honest, I'm lost. I don't know how to help Naruto, even a little. The situation seems hopeless to me; unconsciously, I lose hope and this fiery flame grows weak, unable to chase away the returning darkness.

"However, there's one more thing to try."

At the same time, we turn our heads to find the gaze of the other.

"Kakashi, you're the only one who could approach Naruto and touch him without being hurt. You were able to silence his fury and his anger. You recognized the fear in his eyes unlike us. Without you, we'd have used drastic measures to put out his flames."

"Maybe," I nod grimly, unconvinced. "But I'm afraid what happened was just a fluke."

"Every time we tried to enter his cell, he'd ignite to drive us away. If you can slip in without it happening, there's still hope. You're probably the only one who will be able to establish this bond of trust with him."

Her words are true. I'm the only one who has a chance to reach him and make contact with the sapphire-eyed boy. How? I have to find it. I don't have the right to fail a second time. No. I refuse. I can still fix my mistake, I still have a chance and I can still do something. I am ready to do anything to get him out of these demons that blacken his soul, his spirit and his heart.

Despite the considerable weight on my shoulders, like my body exhausted by the abuse of useless training, I search deep within myself for the last strength I have left; to this, I lock away in the corner of my head this crying need for rest and the doubts that sabotage my self-confidence.

"Understood."