Chapter 13: From the Shadows
"How do you talk me into these things?!" he gasped, running at top-speed after the older boy as they weaved through familiar alleys to make their escape.
Kaito just laughed, bright and happy, the sack of stolen rice heavy in his arms. "We all gotta eat, Toto!" he yelled back. "Makes for a convincing argument!"
Gasping for breath, the four-year-old was unable to provide his usual annoyed reprimand about the nickname and had to settle with a sharp glance. Which, since it distracted him from running, made him nearly trip over his own feet.
Honestly, Kaito was the one to choose the name in the first place; it made no sense for him to butcher it and cut it down to nearly nothing. It's his own fault he chose a long, cumbersome name like 'Yamamoto' and he should have to deal with the consequences.
The pair ducked down an alley, then squeezed through a gap in the wall much too narrow for their adult pursuers: there were very few perks to being small, but this was definitely one of them. From where they were crouched—somebody's thoroughly neglected garden—they quieted to listen for any sounds from the other side of the wall. Shouts and footsteps swept past their hiding spot. After waiting for a long moment to make sure the coast was clear, the two finally wriggled back through the gap.
"Home free," Kaito said, still cautiously quiet but undeniably triumphant. Shifting the stolen rice to check his grip, he then trotted to the opening of the alley. Carefully sticking his head out, he glanced around for any sign of their pursuers.
"No," the younger child corrected. "Not before we actually get home."
"A good point, Toto."
"It's not—" He sighed, already sensing the futility of his protest. "If you wanted to cut the name down, why couldn't you choose something cooler? like 'Yama' or… or 'Yamato'? I like that one. Can't we use that one instead?"
Dramatically, Kaito put on an expression of abject shock and shook his head. "How could you say such a thing, Toto? 'Toto' is a perfectly good name, Toto."
"It sounds like a dog's name," the kid grumbled.
To himself, however—and he wouldn't admit this for all the rice in the world—he did kind of like it. Barely a year ago he didn't even have a name, after all, and he couldn't remember anything but being cold and hungry. Then everything changed. All because Kaito had found him huddled at the base of the Hokage Monument mountain, and named him accordingly.
Though, logically, the whole 'finding him' had more of an impact than 'naming him'. He just liked to be dramatic sometimes. And, yes, it's true that they were still cold and hungry more days than not. The physical situation might have actually gotten worse, with two mouths to feed rather than just one.
But it was still better, because now they had each other.
Plus, in just the past few weeks, their life had had yet another positive twist: a shabby-but-amazing old house in the abandoned district. Right now, with stolen goods in hand, they needed to get back to base.
Seeing the coast was clear, Kaito waved his little brother forward and they ventured together through the streets of their village. Though they were still careful to avoid anyone that might know to resume the earlier chase.
It was much easier to do that, once they passed into the abandoned district. People might skirt through the edges occasionally, taking shortcuts on once well-traveled streets, but hardly anybody still wandered more than one block in.
Which suited the young rice thieves perfectly.
Kaito picked up the pace, having caught sight of the run-down building they called home. It was missing the front door, it having been forcibly removed at some point, but that didn't matter to them. The walls might be cracked and the floor might have water-damage, there might be more broken windows than whole ones, but this was their home: they loved it all the same.
The younger boy paused at the doorway, even as Kaito, eager to cook up their stolen prize, hurried inside. As always, he reached up a hand—he was short, so he had to stand on tiptoe—and traced the diamond carved on the door frame. He treated it as a good luck charm, of sorts.
"Come on, Toto!" Kaito poked his head out from behind one of the walls farther into the building. "I need you to help me set this up."
"Not 'Toto'," he said, but he hurried inside anyway.
They had only found this place a few months ago, when they had been trying to find somewhere to hunker down in during the cold winter nights. There wasn't any furniture inside, and, as noted, the door was missing. None of that mattered. Because it had walls and a roof, and that was more than they had had for a long time.
It even had a small garden in the backyard: overgrown right now, but nothing unwillingly-nicknamed-Toto thought he couldn't handle. Plants were simple, relaxing. In his opinion, there was nothing better than sitting down with the dense mess of greenery and clearing out the dead scraps.
Coming in close second place, though, was the kitchen sink.
For some reason, the house still had running water. Slow running water, more like a very large drip or a very small leak, but it was amazing!
At the moment, Kaito was trying to position the faucet over one of the pots they'd scavenged from a trashcan, but the pot was too large to just set in the sink. So he was trying to jam it in at an angle and it wasn't going well. Especially since he was trying to do that with one hand, and the other was already reaching for the matchbox.
The house might still have water in the pipes, which was already beyond lucky, but that luck didn't extend to the electricity. If they want warm food, they need to set up a fire.
They didn't get warm food often.
Seeing the pot slip dangerously toward falling—which would definitely damage something, be it the sink, the pot, or his brother—the younger boy yelped in alarm. "Stop!" He hurried over, scrambled onto the box they kept nearby so that he could actually reach the counter, and grabbed onto the pot before his brother could drop it. "You'll break it!"
Kaito gave a nervous laugh of the almost-made-a-huge-mistake variety. "Thanks. You got this?"
Given his aversion to all things burning—which was a healthy fear to have, honestly—he gladly agreed to take over the position of pot-proper-up-er. "Don't burn us down, Nii-san."
"I'll try." Opening the box, he found that there was apparently just one match left: they'd need to nick another pack next time they ventured out. "Not to. I'll try not to burn us down."
The little boy gave him a threatening look, black eyes promising retribution if even one spark ended up out of place. Chuckling nervously (no four-year-old should be allowed to be that scary), Kaito left the room to head over to the designated fire pit outside. The pit—though it wasn't much of a pit, given it was just a circle of rocks on the back porch—hadn't been used much recently. Fires were always a rare comfort anyway, saved for particularly cold evenings or for special occasions.
Like today.
Sort of.
He didn't actually know what they were supposedly celebrating, but (in typical Kaito fashion) his pseudo older brother had just decided that today was a special day. Personally, he was pretty sure that Kaito just wanted an excuse to eat something other than what leftovers they could beg from restaurants.
It took ages for the pot to fill up with enough water, during which Kaito stuck his head back inside to say he'd managed to get the fire started—with nothing burning that wasn't supposed to be, no less! The two of them moved the pot outside once it was filled, and together they positioned it over the heat of the fire and poured in some of their precious, newly-liberated rice.
Rooting through the overgrown garden, the little boy gathered up some of the plants that he was fairly sure were edible. Probably. It could be a bit of a toss-up, since shinobi were known for sometimes growing poisons in their own backyards, but these looked safe enough.
Once the rice was cooked, the vegetables were torn into smaller pieces and mixed in. It was a meal fit for a king, assuming the king in question ruled over an abandoned house that didn't even have a front door. Kaito served up their meal on cracked plates, scooping it directly from the pot with the dish.
"Here's to another year, Toto!" Kaito cheered happily, clinking the plates of rice in a toast. "A fourth for you and a…" he paused, running a mental tally, then finished, "eighth? Eighth for me!"
"I've been four for a month now, Nii-san."
His brother didn't reply right away, since he had shoveled rice in his face as soon as he finished his little speech. "M'yeah," he said, swallowing, "but we didn't celebrate then, did we? Four years is a big milestone, little bro!"
The young boy cracked a smile. Then, embarrassed, he swiftly turned his attention to his own food in an attempt to cover it up. Kaito graciously pretended he didn't notice.
They spent a long time just eating and enjoying themselves, for once letting themselves not worry about anything but the next plate of rice. It might be approaching summer already, so the air wasn't cold, but there was just something comforting about sitting around a flickering fire with… family.
They had plenty of wood to keep the fire going even when it started to get dark, since for some reason the nearby training grounds were absolutely covered in wooden shards: some shinobi's handiwork, no doubt.
The shadow of the house began to stretch farther and farther as the sun hung lower in the sky, casting the two of them into cool darkness. The slightly chill air of twilight made both boys shiver, and Kaito gave the embers of their fire a sad but hopeful poke, wanting to summon back the cozy warmth.
Then he stilled, looking out to the edge of the yard with a slight frown.
Stretching and pulling himself upright, the younger boy yawned. "Sleep now, Nii-san?" he asked, already so tired he was almost dead on his feet.
Kaito had a peculiar look on his face, as though something wasn't sitting quite right. It took him a moment to answer. "Ah… yeah. Sleep, Toto. It'll be good for you."
That response doesn't inspire confidence.
Using what was left of the water, the fire was damped into nothingness and the ashes were given one last look over to check for any sparks that might be desperately holding on. Without the crackling of the fire, the night turned peacefully quiet. But still frowning, still troubled, Kaito cast one last glance out, as if searching for something.
"I could have sworn…"
"What's 'matter?" he asked, trying to keep back another yawn.
Kaito shepherded his little brother inside, shaking his head. "It's… probably just my imagination."
They went to the one room that still had a mostly-intact window and a door—though the door didn't close very well and had a tendency to swing open by itself. Inside was a nest of ratty blankets, which made for a decent place to sleep.
The four-year-old curled up on his favorite bit, with a blanket that had probably been bright green once, but the older boy stayed were he was. Kaito had one hand on the doorknob, keeping the door closed, and he was reluctant to let go.
He didn't know why.
=X=X=X=
The four-year-old was awoken by a strong grip on his shoulder and a hand over his mouth. Still too sleepy to be alarmed, the little boy blinked his eyes open and, somewhat surprised, saw that the hands belonged to his brother. "Mm-mhm?" he grunted, before the muffling hand was gently taken away. "Wha—?"
"Hide!" Kaito hissed urgently, and he shoved his little brother, blanket and all, into a dark corner where there might have once been a closet. "Whatever you do don't—" Something, maybe a slight sound that the younger boy couldn't hear, made Kaito cut himself off. "Just stay there, Yamamoto."
The use of his full name woke him up completely, alarmed. "But—!"
"Stay!"
So he did; curled up, tightly holding his knees to his chest, he waited. Confused and far beyond scared by this point, the seconds stretched on until they felt like eons. Then, at last, he heard something: from the other room, a strangled gasp. It sounded… wet. Something heavy fell down, and the fear in his gut burned.
The little boy waited, scared what that might mean, until he couldn't bare the silence.
"Nii-san?" he called out, hesitant.
There was no response, and he remembered that thud and his terrible fear.
Growing even more alarmed, he risked crawling out of his hidden corner and called again. "K-Kaito?"
Scared and shaking, the little boy made his way over to where the door hung partially open. He peered out through the gap, squinting through the darkness. A slight breeze carried with it the smell of copper, and something horrible gripped his heart.
Fear. Death.
Suddenly, even though he couldn't see, he knew. With sickening certainty, he knew.
"Kaito?" It came out as a whisper, desperate and uncertain: now more of a prayer than a name.
He pushed the door farther open, cautiously looking out into what had once been a familiar room. It felt empty. Cold. This had been home. Now, that only made it all the more terrifying.
It was dark, so much darker than it should have been.
But he could still see well enough.
He could still see.
There. On the floor.
Eyes hazy and empty, and red blood glimmering in the faint light.
It was as if the ground dropped out from underneath him. He couldn't breathe, every gasping breath freezing in his chest and curling around his heart like icy thorns. This couldn't be real.
"Ah, yes." A cold, unfeeling voice, but it seemed so far away. "There you are."
The little boy couldn't tear his eyes away from his brother, lying in a pool of red. Even as that cold voice drew closer. He couldn't look away, because Kaito was there and he wasn't moving and, and— He couldn't! Kaito couldn't be—!
The cold voice didn't care. It didn't even pretend to care.
"Yes," the voice hummed again, and a pale hand reached toward the little boy.
He couldn't move, frozen in place by more than fear now.
Almost gentle, three fingers brushed aside the boy's brown hair and settled against his forehead. "This will be a more suitable specimen."
And then the child knew only darkness.
Author's Note:
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the village, evil reaches out with a pale hand.
Idea Partner: Rikkamaru
Bit of a short chapter this month and, given how university is going, the next couple of chapters will probably be on the short side as well. Then it'll be summer and I'll have time again!
By the way, Kaito chose to name the little kid he found 'Yamamoto' because it means 'base of the mountain'.
Looking at the timeline and trying to puzzle out what happens when is, I'm finding, and exercise in futility. For example: Yamato's backstory. As you may have guessed, the young child in this chapter grows up to become Yamato. On the wiki page, it says that he graduated the Academy and became a chūnin at age 6… and also that he was kidnapped as a child and experimented on. Which is weird, because a person can only have so many years of childhood.
And then there's Kakashi, who became a chūnin at 6… but still competed in the Exam with his genin team somehow.
So I'll sometimes take creative liberties to try and fit it all into one sequence of events. Please tell me if I overlook something major or just stop making sense.
Updates on the 15th of the month.
Thank you for all the reviews and favorites and follows, and just generally enjoying the story.
See ya on the flipside, everyone!