Transmission # 2-2-5-6. Designate: Training Day
North of The Wall, Tokyo Urban; Fuji Sector: Village of the Hidden Leaves - "Konoha"
Target Field 18; Subject prepares himself for incoming training session
08:45 hrs; November 28, 1963
Log Start:
Naruto was up early this morning.
Well, to be fair, he hadn't really slept much the night before anyways; Mizuki had him running about last night, but his injuries prevented him from doing anything more than simple package delivery. Ribs hurt, neck was sore, back killed him, and every recoil from the rifle positively racked his entire body.
When Sasuke and Sakura caught up with after his little shadow clone imitation stunt, there wasn't much reprieve. Sasuke was too incensed he was able to get cheated by such a wayward trick, and Sakura was furious Naruto would even think of impersonating Sasuke. And for what? To toy with her feelings, get her to spill the beans on information where - if Naruto were halfway normal - they'd be privy in telling him. But because of shit like this, it harkens back to why they were worried in the first place.
Where was his head?
What did he want?
Did he not care that it put them all in a terribly shitty position? Especially, considering what they were taught by Comrade-Sensei Kakashi after all these years. To never give up on a friend, never abandon them; always see through their troubles to lend a helping hand when needed. Well, they were, she practically screamed. Yet Naruto was the one who was hesitating grabbing on.
A loud bang is heard, and he pulls back on the bolt; wide off the mark again. Normally, he'd attribute it to the fact he was using a rifle more fit for a museum than target practice. But admittedly he was never one for guns anyway - if he was supposed to be a ninja, then having a loud bang-bang stick wasn't smart, right? Yet, the State required all military personnel to participate in basic rudimentary training. Didn't matter if you were a specialist or the introductory novice - everyone paid their due.
As what was expected to preserve the sanctity and resolve of the State. Per the wishes of the Noble One, whom more and more everyday was talked about like he was some myth. The running bit of rumor now is that Nosaka had actually been dead for months, yet the State Committee in Sapporo was quiet on that. Reason why the tensions between Moscow and Beijing seemed to drag on interminably without an end in sight.
Another loud bang - Naruto manages to hit the target amazingly. The bullet hole is wide off the center, but at least he hit paper. Considering he was two hundred yards away, thought that was an accomplishment. It makes him wonder if he could've killed Kennedy if he were in that bookshop almost a week ago.
Or on the grassy knoll.
Or, was it on a side street?
Meh, who knows; even Ms. Yuhi was unable to provide all the information. And by Comrade Lenin's formaldehyde preserved body, he trusted her way more than that old ding bat Koharu. She'd been on a tear detailing how the failed state of the United States is in a constant state of disrepair and disunity. Which is why, in a grand gesture of magnanimity and righteousness, the Democratic People's Republic of Japan opted to "show them the way". By "leading" a task force mean to instill discipline, dignity, and bestow much needed lessons of leadership to these imperialist cowards.
"The West has shown a gross incompetence in assessing, and controlling, the gravest form of depravity from occurring in the once noble nation of South Vietnam: military fascism. War mongers have taken hold of the state, a Hydra of many dictators seemingly at war with themselves. The dictators have caused an incalculable amount of suffering among the Vietnamese people, who's yearning for justice has warmed the heart of our compassionate Daimyo Kaneko. Compelling him to send aid in the plight of freeing the proletariat from the clutches of a dying Republic, and a febrile regime requiring purging at its basest levels..."
The new's broadcast was shown to all the teams in the school, ranging from the lowest genin, to the most specialized tokubestsu jonin. What everyone saw and heard on Nihon Commune Channel 3 was the prop line circulating about the DPRJ's media machine. Selling to everyone why their mission with the Americans was not a betrayal. No, of course not. Why would you even think it? It's treason if you do.
Because what you don't understand, what the State made you believe, is that this was actually a good thing.
The United States was so helpless they needed their help. And because The Democratic People's Republic of Northern Japan was so altruistic and kind and gentle and all-encompassing; instead of leaving the job for the bumbling gaijin to handle, and those foppish Southerners, WE were going to show them how it's done. They would go into South Vietnam, stabilize the situation, and show the world the true meaning of jiritsu.
Naruto knew that was bullshit, but since when did facts matter.
Politics mar anything and everything.
As sat in the auditorium watching this, Sakura and Sasuke and everyone else around, he slumped in his chair and shrugged. Because what everyone didn't know - what they couldn't know - was that this particular broadcast was shown on a secured network only. In one of the few moments of transparency concerning her station, Sakura told them this was the case.
"A few districts in the North were green lit to hear this tonight," she says in a quiet whisper. "All international broadcasting is subsequently cut-off; no one on the outside is going to see this."
"Why are they doing that?" Naruto cranes back his head, mindful of the hovering ANBU a few rows behind them. Most everyone noted the increased security in the room, and it wasn't only the masked ANBU, either. ROOT agents in their black uniforms stand guard, barring the entryway to all exits.
"Don't be dense," Sasuke tells him, arms crossed and eyes closed in thought; though he was ANBU, he opted to sit with his team tonight, much to Sakura's satisfaction. "They don't know how to sell to everyone we're going to be helping the 'enemy' when we get to Vietnam. They're only telling those they feel they can trust."
"Does this mean I'm off the hook for...other activities?" Sasuke hits with a marked stare, and Sakura elbows him in his tender ribs; might as well ask, surely ROOT had bigger concerns than a few pieces of chocolate making it across The Wall every now and then. And a katana, too. But Comrade-Sensei Hayate didn't seem to complain, and no one else called him out on it.
No harm, no foul.
Sakura says due to Konoha being a "secret" village, their security was not officially deemed a liability.
Of course, didn't mean the State presumed trustworthiness simply because; everyone's got a mouth, and everyone has ideas. Sapporo didn't tolerate those, as people like that were considered dangerous, and needed to be culled from the herd. As quickly, and quietly as possible.
Another shot rings out, Naruto pulls back on the bolt, and he looks down the length of the barrel. "Oh, fucking hells."
Missed again.
"Uzumaki!" The voice of Comrade-Sensei Morino shouts. "Again your marksmanship is so abysmal it makes me want to shit my pants. Chamber the round and try again, or I'll slap a target on you and have Comrade Yamanaka have her way with you."
To his right he sees Ino wink at him before making her shot. The crack of the rifle is loud as she hits the bullseye dead on. It goes with the other five holes she's lobbed in the center of her shot-paper.
Showoff.
Comrade Morino was normally a pill about shooting, so luckily there were others he'd a hard-on for, giving Naruto enough of a chance to collect his gear and leave the range with relative ease.
Sakura walked with for a ways to their classroom, heading up the trail with the rest of their class, walking past the stonework monuments and large gates heading into the mouth of the cave. Konoha buzzed as busily as it could, with well-meaning folk going about their morning as well as they could manage. The cold seeped in a little earlier this year, prompting for the Village to bust out the coal heaters and electric Shinsuke model pads. They lined the cobblestone streets, and hung from door frames. However, to save energy many citizens opted instead to burn the dried hay, chaff, and wood strips they kept in their sheds.
"Everyone's getting ready for winter," Sakura notes as they cross the river. Kotetsu and Izumi are stationed towards the pulley elevator today, bundled up as they bid the kids greetings as they all are ushered through. "A lot of people are saying it's going to be a cold season this time around."
"Is that you guessing how the weather will be, or is this from State intelligence?" Naruto says plaintively, looking out over the Village. Makeshift fires abound everywhere, with most of the people he saw wearing extra heavy hakama to stave off the biting chill. It would do little: the old and the very young would feel it, regardless how many heating lamps Lord Hokage could scrounge.
"Don't be an ass, I'm just trying to have a conversation." Sakura scoffs at him, but Naruto makes a face.
"Weather conversations? Really? That's where we're at now?" He makes his way to the back of the elevator, and leans against the back railing. Choji and Shikamaru are there, too. Both greet them with a fleeting "Yo" and a "Sup'.
"Oh, sure, because you've been so easy to talk to recently." She says, crossing her arms.
Naruto doesn't meet her gaze. "Little hard to talk when I'm constantly getting smacked in the mouth, Sakura-chan."
"You deserve it."
"I deserve it!?"
The jerk and pull of the elevator bounces them around, the ropes and water pulleys straining along the old gears of the mountain equipment. Sakura tries to look intimidating to Naruto, but he's in no mood; any other day this would've worked, but there's been a bubbling feeling deep within him which has gotten him thinking. Not in a bad way. More than he usually would. Which had even gotten him slightly worried for a bit. But something did feel off. More so than his aim, more so than his failed breathing exercises, and more so than his attention in the classroom.
Shikamaru chalked it up to a lover's tiff, but Choji wasn't so sure; they gave off more of brother-sister. Regardless, Sakura didn't appreciate such a glib comment; one angry look was all they needed to shut their mouths for the remainder of the ride.
They walked through the dimly lit halls of hardwood passageways, and intricate paper screen walls. Naruto never really paid much attention to them as he walked - no one else did, also. Stories and myths were things meant to entertain kids, with much of their pomp and interest waining as the target audience grew older. Sure, at one time Naruto found the intricate stories of ninja fending off legions of ashigaru cool, how Konoha fought ceaselessly against the tyrannies of the Shogunates, and later the Imperial Meiji house. Konoha's founding by banished Iga shinobi of the Senju clan was touted as a national history, but at some point he was sick of living in the past.
Sakura didn't, though.
For her, the halls and paintings and tableaux were a reminder of the people she was a part of, the cause they represented. The ninja of Konoha, and the plight of all the Hidden Villages around the globe, fighting against ALL claims of imperialist powers. Those who drew profit by lying to the masses, deceiving them into servitude, and parading around their liberties as "truth".
"Jiritsu" - rhythm living, hard living - was Nosaka's answer to this hedonism.
It was meant to showcase the benefits of an honest life, buffeted by the simple notion those in power would look out for those without. Sakura believed in this, but Naruto never could tell where it truly began with her; whether or not it was simply an occupational hazard of being a junior commissar in Sapporo Intelligence, or if the incident so long ago had changed her...
"Whatever," he thought to himself, bopping his pencil up and down his desk.
The classroom smelled of old paper and chalk, the floorboards creaking whenever Iruka walked up and down the rows. Comrade-Proctor regaled them of tales of Nosaka's exploits in China, of his unyielding struggle against the military fascists of the Shogunate, hiding themselves behind the strappings of the Emperor. Puppets who lied and tricked the people into forgoing decent, honest livelihoods. To feed a military machine seeking the death of too many, and for too little gain.
"The "Red Banners" we wield," Iruka points to a red banner hanging limp in the corner, its golden symbols of the rice leaf and turning gear resting in faded gold by the upper right folds. "Our Democratic Republic chose this to represent all the hardships and sufferings of our people, Japan endured on the harvests yielded, and through the ceaseless churning of our industry. Food and work - these provide the backbones to our state."
Comrade-Proctor tries to sell this as he had done so many times before. The bars and medals of his captaincy he still wears, showing in spite of some grumblings he hadn't been demoted. But, on those few nights where Iruka had a bit too much, he'd confided to Naruto how close he was to a "drastic" change.
"I'm certainly under review," he says in a somewhat slurred voice. "You're little stunt didn't look good on me, Naruto,"
Naruto knows the drink hasn't wholly affected him; Iruka was clear in his disappointment, and it made Naruto feel worse. Because he knew the next words he uttered meant little in the larger picture. "I'm...sorry." The words feel feeble and are fumbled out of his mouth. "Iruka, I'm...Just sorry"
Iruka waves him off with a sad smile and tired wave. "It isn't on you - that cat was a piece of shit, and I was a nervous wreck all day before meeting Comrade Stalin. It was the worst spoken Russian I think ever uttered into existence. Couldn't tell you how many times I apologized to him. But taking that picture of me on the toilet?"
"I was mad you found my stash." Naruto admits with frown, recalling how Iruka was cleaning out his dorm room to find his contraband neath his bed. "I wasn't even so upset that you were going to report me, but that I hadn't even gotten to that magazine yet when you found it."
"Ah, Товарищи и Кучи! Yeah, I'd be, too...Comrade Katerina certainly had two large plots of land I wouldn't mind collectivizing. Ha!"
It was the first time they shared a good laugh in what felt like a while. Iruka perhaps still felt guilty over the administration of disciplinary correcting, and no matter how many times Naruto told him it was fine, Iruka never stopped apologizing. It was one of the other many compliments Naruto had towards this man: he was too good for those medals on his epaulets. Rather, what they represented. Iruka was a hard-worker, a man who wished to perfect his craft. Not simply to be the best for his own sake - that's not what a teacher is about.
But for his kids.
For a man who hadn't any of his own, Iruka ever prided doting on Naruto's class of 18A-Zeta; they weren't his first, but they certainly left an impression on their scarred professor.
They both chided with one another, talked until it got to the point for turn-off hours in the dorms. Iruka took a couple more sips of the sake, before deciding it was too unseemly now for a Comrade-Proctor such as he to be cavorting with a lowly genin such as him. Naruto joked if Iruka perhaps drank a little more, maybe he'd get another promotion. "Ha! Fat chance of that happening," he goes, emphasizing his personal ROOT escort had been on him like a Pooh bear on a jar of honey. "Cold as ice, that one. And about as charming, too. Nice chest, though, yeah?"
Naruto laughs when Iruka holds his hands in front of his chest, simulating as best he could the sheer gargantuan-ness of the State's professional note-taker. Naruto jokes it'd be hard for her go incognito anywhere, but Iruka disagrees wholeheartedly. "No," He tells Naruto, as he's being helped to the door. "She's perfect don't you see; no one is gonna look at her face, cuz they'll be too busy staring at her chest."
"Haha, true, but I don't know. She's not exactly what I'd want."
"...And what do you want, Naruto?" Iruka asks, quite matter-of-factly.
The question stunts the boy; Comrade-Proctor Iruka was ever pointed with Naruto, like sharpened knife in the dark, but he'd ever relented when these little meet-and-greets they've shared over the years became heavy. Iruka knew he was in position to tell Naruto what do to, how to be, and what to think. In the classroom. But not out of it. On the outside he was just a drinking buddy hanging out with a seventeen year old.
His personal assistant would have a field day if she could see him. Luckily, even she needed to sleep every now and then.
Iruka straightens out a few of his ruffled feathers, before he continues. The shadows from the dimmed lamps in the hallways little to hide his faraway look or the frail smile on his face. "You're old enough to make decisions for yourself, Naruto. And I'm not going to stand here and pretend I have all the answers. You all...deserve the right...to search for who you want to be on your own..."
The acrid smell of the warmed sake is strong on his breath, but the haze doesn't cloud Iruka's eyes. They're glassed over, sure. But also clear, focused, and pin Naruto on the spot as the man shuffles on his feet. Iruka looks unsure as he continues, and is also mindful of keeping his voice low; every dorm has eyes and ears, and every genin never obeys the curfew.
"The only thing I want to say is be careful. The world they made for us - this one, their's; all of it - is a hell of a lot more complicated than it needs be. It's not hard for people like us to lose our way looking for answers. That's when mistakes happen.., " Iruka's eyes seem distant again, looking off beyond Naruto into a part of him he can't go. It was a look Iruka had from time to time. A look suggesting he remembrance of some distant past, or feeling he'd stowed away. A hand is thrown on Naruto's shoulder. "You're going to mess up, Naruto. You will, it's a given. But when you do, you need to be sure what put you there was done for a right reason..."
As Iruka paced the aisles, Naruto wondered how much of last night Comrade-Proctor remembered, or If he did at all.
Shame, really.
He'd much prefer that man be his teacher, than the one droning about stories of survival, battle tactics, or puff pieces about wartime glories. It made Naruto realize more and more the "Why" for his antics wasn't simply due to his selfishness. Sure, yes, he was that, too. But what Naruto felt more, oddly considering these people never gave him much to feel warm and cozy about - didn't matter if it was the height of winter, or the ball sweating summer. Was that deep down past Naruto's resentment, and the people of Konoha's, were good people. Nice people. Who were trapped here same as he.
But where they were too afraid or blinded to know any better, inadvertently because they held Naruto at arm's length, he found a better way. And he wanted to share that all because deep down he knew it was good. Not necessarily 'better', but simply good...
"The fuck do you know what's good," Mizuki's powerful blow lands hard against Naruto's cross.
Mizuki traps Naruto's calf as he presses in. Putting him in a headlock, Mizuki wrenches hard - harder than probably expected - to try take Naruto down. Naruto sidesteps the headlock by leveraging his weight toward his back foot. As if he were falling backward, Naruto grips hold of Mizuki's waist, using his momentum to pull him down. Following the momentum, the jonin veers his body, breaking the hold as both he and Naruto roll backwards onto the mat.
"How many friggin times I gotta explain myself." Naruto crouches in a ready stance, pivoting his body forward to lunge at Mizuki's legs. He grapples with him, back muscles straining and upper lats burning; he tries to take in a breath, but Mizuki is too quick with an elbow which rocks him hard in the ribs. After, the jonin hooks under Naruto's right arm and turns him over. Naruto is planted hard on his back, looking up at the bright lights and dark oak wooden ceiling.
All across the gym, numerous individual duels such as this one were taking place. Highly choreographed and well monitored, their karate sessions took up an hour of their morning drills, till they would hit the showers at around noon time. A small lunch would follow, more classwork, and finally the day would end with a race up towards the Hero's mount. There, the troupe would be dismissed, and the night would be theirs. To nurse daily wounds and find whatever they could for dinner.
For Naruto it was simple case of pork flavored ramen pilfered from the last score at Tokyo's harbor side. With a side of sole food; Mizuki's foot nearly comes crashing through Naruto's face, barely landing as Naruto spins away at the last second.
"なんてこった - Would you calm down! I was the one handed a bag of worthless cash!"
"And I said no negotiating!"
Before Naruto could say anymore, Mizuki was back on him. Relentlessly, throwing chops and elbows where Anruto wasn't quick enough to stop him; Mizuki wasn't the fastest or the strongest fighter. But he had the benefit of experience and weight behind him, giving his younger opponent fits trying to figure him out.
"We'll just try again next time."
"You've no idea how fucked this is now," Mizuki says, lobbing another overhead kick towards Naruto. "Not only did we have ANBU to watch out for, but now ROOT's crawling all over our asses. We've got little room to move. DOn't you get it, there might not even BE a next time." Naruto blocks it, and turns his body, causing Mizuki to lose his balance. Spinning, Naruto swings his own leg around, nailing Mizuki in the back with a roundhouse.
Irate, Mizuki turns on Naruto before a flurry of chops and punches fly against his face. He's hard pressed to mind all the shots, and Naruto's fast enough to reps the advantage; speed was always his greatest attribute, and plus with him knowing Mizuki still smarts an old war wound from a past mission, he wasn't above pouring on an injured knee. Nothing would bring him more satisfaction than putting his bastard on his ass in front of everyone.
"ANBU hasn't found me out yet, so what makes you think ROOT can do any better?" Naruto's shot ricks against Mizuki's jaw, and he almost feels a tooth loosen neath his fist. Mizuki tries to counter, but he's too slow; that had always been his flaw. Mizuki might have gotten to become a jonin, but that said more now about the lax qualifications than it did on this man's acumen.
Mizuki wasn't someone who saw the bigger picture, or feel the world. The man was moving, yet somehow stayed still. Never changing, yet ever angry. Life was easy for him because he liked quick cash and easy jobs; cheap liquor with a carton of smokes; a crate full of nonsensical contraband more novel than necessary. Konoha didn't need that shit. the village needed medicine, chkare cell. batteries for their generators in light of harsh winter; blankets, clothes, better food than the hand-me-down rations left over from the 40's.
Mizuki scoffed at jiritsu. Not because it made people suffer, but that it expected you to give so much, and receive so little in return.
"Had to pick a fucking fight, didn't you? Couldn't help yourself. Now look where we are?!" Mizuki taunted as he unleaded a powerful roundhouse of his own.
Naruto ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding the strike, and with a surge of adrenaline, counter with swift move which sent Mizuki stumbling back. "Yeah," Naruto said with a determined grit, smirking at the agitated jonin. "Look at where we are."
A fleeting moment of triumph which felt good while it lasted, but it was short-lived. Without warning, Naruto felt a sudden sharp pain as Mizuki's foot connected with his knee, buckling it underneath him. The sudden loss of balance sent Naruto crashing to the ground, and before he could react, Mizuki sexed the opportunity, latching onto his head slipping into a triangle choke.
Panic surges through Naruto sd the pressure of the hold constricted around his neck. He struggled to breath, struggled to tap into he chakra which fizzled and burnt out within, his windpipe being compressed as he fought against the tightening grip. The world around him began to blur, his vision growing dark at the edges as the bright yellow sandalwood floor fades away.
A distant voice speaks to him here, as the word closes in and the feel heaven isn't for off; where the blood is being forced to his face, and his own name sounds like it comes from a dream. The sparring sessions were ever a tough go, as they were designed to instill the feeling of helplessness on the trainees. Chakra control as a necessary trait for all shinobi, yet there was only so much of a pool to draw from. The points running through their bodies could only push so much, and when the adrenaline fades, their bodies were left straining from reserves.
"Listen to me, and listen good, punk," Mizuki says, pressing hard; there was little love lost between these two, as Naruto claws at his legs, digging down to stay awake. Mizuki pulls him in close so he would hear, and speaks softly that no other group could chance to listen. "Another order just came through. Be ready, cuz we might not have as much time to act as before. Something big's coming down the pipeline, and for whatever reason Bridge Builder wants you involved. So when the time comes, be ready..."
Each breath felt like monumental effort, as Naruto's body screamed for him to maintain composure. The fear of failure and the intense want to prove himself clashed within, as his brain attempted to comprehend his orders. The Bridge Builder was a person who rarely called on specifics for the jobs to get done. Normally, it was simply a straight-forward "do this", and it got done. What on earth would he need Naruto specifically for, and why should it be any different from any other order?
Besides, Naruto though, did they even have enough money.
Mizuki squeezes harder, the triangle setting in. Even though Naruto moved himself on his toes for leverage, Mizuki anchored himself to the ground, his back shoulders arching away to apply more pressure. With a determined growl Naruto summons every ounce of strength he had left, and attempts to lift Mizuki off the ground; he was going to slam the bastard with whatever he had left. Until his legs give out, he falls to his knees, and the last thing he sees is Mizuki smiling like a shit down at him.
He almost blacks out, till he notices the shining blade cross along Mizuki's throat.
"Always play this rough with children, Mizuki-san?" A small bit of blood trickles where the steel digs into his neck. Mizuki lessens his grip, when Sasuke's face shows he wasn't playing; the emotionally misplaced object known as Uchiha Sasuke was ever known to have a cool temper and a sharp blade.
It was a familiar look for Sasuke, one that Naruto had been on the receiving end of many a time before. But for Mizuki, he'd never been talked down to by one junior to him - even if Sasuke was ANBU. He releases Naruto and stands up to his full height, a good four or five inches taller than the raven haired boy. If looks could kill, Sasuke would've been burning in the deeper circle of hell. Yet, Mizuki knew his gaze wasn't nearly as powerful or potent when facing off against a fully engaged Sharingan.
"You don't miss a thing, do you?" Mizuki's tone is condescending, and Sasuke moves over to lift Naruto to his feet. "I was preparing him for what is expected for the mission - what you all should expect. War zones offer no quarter, and neither shall we. Per Lord Hokage's orders."
Sasuke isn't fooled; Mizuki can speak what he will, but the man was a notoriously terrible teacher. He cared little for his students, and even less for someone like Naruto. Both made for an interesting pair of sparring partners. The Uchiha was quick to question this, along with Mizuki's minimal knowledge of what a war zone might actually look like. "I don't ask a butcher to cut my hair, and expect a good result."
"Doesn't look like you get a good result anyway," Mizuki chides, waving a sweaty bang from a devilishly overconfident face. "Really, 'Uchiha-sama', was your ANBU training so easy for you? Maybe it's unfair for you to conflate your own skill with those of middling skill."
Sasuke takes a step to skewer the man before Naruto holds him back. He tells him it's all right, that Mizuki wasn't worth it. Sasuke couldn't agree more, which is why he kept pestering Naruto as to why he kept holding back. "You're better than that," Sasuke goes, throwing the bucket of warm water over his back; Konoha's showers for its students was a traditional affair. A steaming onsen with a large central pool, heated by the thermal vents under Fuji's rock, and divided by a large, bamboo wall. Sasuke kept insisting on talking to him, but Naruto wasn't listening.
How could anyone concentrate when you can hear girls laughing and giggling - NAKED! - just on the other side.
It was a cruel and unusual thing the State forced them in; chunin and genin were expected to adhere to the morality codes of conduct as implemented by the Noble One circa 1947. However, jonin and those of the upper crust were able to bathe equally, with no problems, save an accordance to decorum was kept. Nosaka was strict adherent to the teaching of the Second International of 1919, which plainly dictated the equality of the sexes was to be administered in most walks of life. Unlike the strict Confucian ideology of their Chinese/Korean comrades, enforcing a strict segregation wasn't so necessary for showering and the public bathhouses, which were ever a fun pastime for the Japanese people.
It was at times used to portray those of the DPRJ as distasteful and immoral, but for Naruto, it was the only perk of wanting to move up through the ranks.
"Hey, sooooo...thoughts on Ino?" The question was innocent enough; a topic of conversation among many a boy, wet and naked, talking about girls who were equally wet and naked. Naruto tries to find the peephole through which the sight of nirvana was possible, but the bastards most likely plugged it up. Two weeks it was a fun little venture of the boys. Girl, too.
Everyone wanted to catch a sight at the mystical Uchiha specimen; Naruto was only unfortunate when at the same time he was met with a pair of chocolate brown eyes, warming to the sight. Till a loud "Shanarooooo!" and a snap of bamboo nearly took his head off.
"Quit changing the subject - why were you letting a piss-ant like Akiyama Mizuki mop the floor with you? The guy's got less field experience than some chunin around here, and he was baiting you into every move." Sasuke says, clearly agitated. Naruto chalked it up because Mizuki said himhis hair looked like a chicken took a massive dump and blew out all his ass-feathers.
O'course, Sasuke would never admit that's why he kept pouring water over his head, straightening his normal spikes down over his shoulders.
"He's a Proctor here, Sasuke," Naruto says, digging out a hole in the bamboo; luckily, the dried framework was easy to work. Cheap building materials made the wall flimsy, only stiff enough to stand, but that's all. "It's not his job to go out on missions. Besides, everyone compared to you probably doesn't have enough field experience anyways."
"Don't like agreeing with him, but this time Sasuke's right," Shikamaru chimes in, as he lounges back with a wash cloth over his eyes. "Mizuki's notorious for only cleaning up any and all D and E rank missions most others won't touch. He's not been on a real op for years. Some say half the reason he even got promoted was because there weren't many ninja left after the war to enforce anything."
Shikamaru doesn't register the perturbed look Sasuke gives him; the resident genius didn't have much tact for politeness. Maybe because he was too intelligent to waste time on such niceties, or - according to Sasuke - he was just an asshole. Everyone knew the reason why there weren't many ninja to fill the ranks after the war, and it irked Sasuke the most was knowing the only reason a man like Mizuki could've rose was by standing on the bones of his family.
"My dad said Mizuki wasn't particularly good for much back in the day. Why he's mostly relegated to rear duty stuff now." Food wasn't normally allowed in the onsen, but Choji munched happily on a dried oat and fruit bar he snuck in from the mess this morning. He would've offered the other three he pilfered, if he hadn't have already eaten them beforehand. "He was actually in Comrade-Proctor Iruka's class when they were growing up. Did you know that?"
Sasuke wipes down his taught muscles replete with scars, tells them all he could know regarding Mizuki. How he was a Not so much to consider him "damaged', but there were enough small, pink lines running along his skin to show he wasn't indestructible. A blade mark where a JSDF bayonet almost took him in the stomach, three faint slashes across his chest marking the Nekomata almost tore him to shreds, and a misaligned hip after falling down a waterfall saving Daimyo Kaneko's granddaughter.
"At least Iruka knows where he stands; Mizuki is just some up-jumped toad who thinks he's a tiger." Sasuke rises from his seat and grabs a water bucket from the corner. Before Naruto has time to react, he's doused with the tepid, mineral tasting water.
"Hey!," Naruto spits out the soap in his mouth, standing up and facing towards Sasuke. "The shit is your malfunction, don't you see I'm working here."
"Which makes it all the more annoying you'd waste your time with him."
"Wasting my ti - the fuck?! I was training! Isn't that what you and Sakura have been complaining I don't do enough of."
"It's never been your lack of skill that's bothered us, Naruto. It's your focus. Something that's been a bit of hang-up about you for quite some time, and hanging out with guy like Mizuki doesn't help you."
"Oh, shove it up your ass!" Naruto gets up in Sasuke's face, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. He knows what he eluded to, but Naruto was in no mood to confront it here. "Focus? I've been focusing this entire time, trying to figure out what to do. Don't tell me you really think I actually 'like' Mizuki or something? He's a friggin jerk. Just like you're being right now."
"I'm telling you this because I care, Naruto."
"And I'm telling you: 'thank you', much appreciated. I'm happy you got my back. But until I ACTUALLY have a problem, don't decide for me when it's right for you to swoop in and save the day. All so you can get an ego boost by telling yourself" 'OH, lOoK aT pOoR, nArUtO. hE nEeDs SaViNg AgAiN. bEcAuSe i'M sAsUkE uChIhA, aNd I AlWaYs KnOW wHaT's BeSt!"
"I don't sound like that."
"He doesn't really," Choji chimes in
"YOU SOUND EXACTLY LIKE THAT!" Naruto says in a high-pitched squeal.
"And ego boost?" Sasuke growls, face contorted in anger as his eyes almost flash red. "It's not an ego boost whenever I have to course correct your ass into getting back in line, dobe."
"And where's that 'line', Sasuke? Tell me?! Because the only one I care about right now, is the one right here denying me the chance to look at some beautiful women." Naruto yells, banging his fist against the rickety bamboo frame. "Instead, I'm forced to stew here in a vat of ass-soup, looking at your skinny ass in a hand-towel!"
"You are looking skinnier than usual, Sasuke." Choji goes, crumbs around his mouth and floating in the water around him.
Shikamaru holds up a hand, and waves it to his teammate; he was smart enough to know not to get involved, and for Choji to keep it to himself. No point getting between another lover's tiff between the vaunted Team 7. News about their exploits were mostly attributed to the fact the last of the Uchiha had thrived and survived to the point of breeding age. Comrade-Sensei Kakashi also, a notorious man with little patience and ever a penchant to trip a child down a fight of stairs, just so happened to take them under his wing.
"Don't know where that line is," Sasuke says, glaring at Naruto. "But guarantee it's not shoved in between another man's legs, with his dick in your face!"
"I HAD HIM EXACTLY WHERE I WANTED HIM!"
"To suck his cock maybe."
Sasuke looks smug with his smirk, thinking he'd just dropped the biggest line to snuff out whatever Naruto could conjure up. The blonde's frown is deep, his eyes wide, and his options few as they both stand there with towels too small to be considered "moral and respectable" by standards. Naruto makes a mental note next time he heads south to snag bigger ones. But faced with his current predicament, his mind races for a way to wipe that panty-sniffing smirk off his stupid face. Until the answer comes so clearly not even the Sharingan could've seen it coming.
"All right, good. Now that you've calmed down, I think it's important we - ARGH!" Sasuke yelps in pain and grabs his at his chest. He's stunned, appalled, a little confused, but pissed irregardless. "Did you just slap my boob?"
Holding his hand away from his body like an unbloodied blade, the two gleaming stars alighting his face, Naruto's eyes glare with pure, unabashed intent. "Should you persist, you will enter a world of pain beyond your mortal comprehension, knave."
"I'm going to kill you-OW! Seriously?"
"My threats are like my hands: I do not trade them softly."
"Quit it, Naruto, or you're gonna -OW! Fucking shit, STOP!"
Naruto does not stop.
He cannot stop.
The slaps rain down like thunder upon the earth, a relentless hailstorm of hatred which doesn't cease, turning the Uchiha's chest red. Sasuke, as worthy of a challenger as any, and a bona fide survivor, doesn't not back down. Nor would he hold his manhood cheap against this rapacious onslaught, bringing with it a hell comparable to one of Sakur- *SLAP*
"Fucking shit, Naruto, enough!"
*SLAP*
"NARUTO!"
*SLAP*SLAP*SLAP*SLAP*SLAP*SLAP*
Hoots and hollers are heard as Uzumaki and Uchiha battle for supremacy in a duel fit for the ages. Bets are placed, towels are tightened, Choji wishes he had another rice bar in order to enjoy the show, and Shikamaru sinks lower into the water. He's forever blowing bubbles under the surface, cursing how regular this occurrence had to be. Every day, Shikamaru laments. Every fucking damn day. So, troublesome...
As the Nara heir weathers the storm of ineptitude around him, beyond the flimsy, bamboo wall a likewise sentiment is being held.
"This...is definitely not what I was expecting." Ino comments peering through the hole in the wall. "Like, they don't think this is how we act, right?"
"Heavens, I hope not." Matsuri goes behind them.
"Can't believe when we become jonin we're allowed to bathe together." Another girls says.
"Not a chance in all the hells." Sakura says, trying hard to hide her blush under the water.
She tried telling herself she was better than that. For she had too much respect for Sasuke and Naruto to peep. Even if Naruto's tried it at least a dozen times, and Sasuke a grand total of maybe who-knows. Still, a standard was set down for those willing to put themselves through State services. The Noble One believed to better oneself, first they needs control what makes them less. Even if the hope of slipped towel, or a bare chest, or the sight of something more enticed her only a little...
"何てこと！A towel's gone, ladies! I repeat, a towel's gone!" Ino reports, causing everyone to swarm around the peephole.
But they are all pushed to the side as Sakura bullrushes her way to the front. "I'm their teammate." She yells out, peering as Naruto's ass waves about unbound (causing a not unsubstantial amount of comments being lobbied towards it), and Sasuke being back by a crowd of half-naked, wetted boys. "I need to inspect! To make sure they don't have any injuries!"
Thankfully, no injuries.
A bit of hurt pride, as no one likes being slapped in the titties. Sasuke was still cursing up a storm, threatening to chop Naruto's dick in half the next time he sees him. Naruto accepted the challenge, stating that if Sasuke wanted to see his dick so badly, all he needed to do was ask. Which - in the heat of the moment came out totally NOT how Naruto was expecting, making everyone present, including the jonin sent to break up the fight, stop and speculate.
Yes, Naruto and Sasuke had shared a smooch ONCE. Totally by accident. Not at all what they wanted. All due to Naruto getting a little too haughty in the classroom one day, and losing his balance when some jackass bumped into him. He'd like to think that's where his undying hatred for Sasuke started. With his smug smirks and passive aggressive dismissals.
Always liked to think he was Mr. Perfect, for why else did he feel the need to butt in as he and Mizuki squared off today. What, did he actually think he was being clever? Spying on him or whatever, trying to get to the bottom of Naruto's dealings? Then he wants to complain about him not being focused; all Sasuke does is obsess Naruto isn't on the straight and narrow.
Why? Naruto will tell you!
It's because Sasuke was jealous.
That's it, it had to be. Why else would he give an ass rat's about what Naruto did, would do, or can do?
After the onsen incident the day passed as uneventfully as Naruto could've hoped. Sakura would try and talk with him - which was a change of pace, but his heart and mind weren't in it. Iruka wanted to see him afterwards, but that came and went as something pressing came through which required his attention. Shikamaru and Choji offered to treat Naruto out to Choji's family's bbq restaurant - however, much meat they could afford to part with. but Naruto turned them down. Even Sasuke tried to make an attempt - as poorly awkward as it could be, but even then Naruto was in no mood.
Thoughts, feeling, and ideas all floated in and out of his mind, bouncing off the cobblestones as he walked through the village. The day was ending, the sun was falling, and the biting chill of night swept over Konoha's streets, urging the townspeople to bundle themselves in heavy clothing. The sight of them, huddled against the cold, echoed Sakura's earlier words about bracing for a tough December, made even more challenging by the lack of supplies which lowered the community's spirit.
He ambled past the somewhat busy market square, where the vibrant energy of teh village clashed with the somber realities of a tough tomorrow. Food stands were still selling produce, though the quality was so-so and the prices too high. Paper lanterns were lit, though the batteries for them had to be turned off before the night's grew too frosty. Business was being conducted, but it was more so the haggling of rumors and gossip which brought the people together; with the added syphoning of electricity, many people gathered around the local izakaya to watch the news from their imported, twenty-five inch Korean cube television.
As Naruto walked through, his gaze settles on a small family rushing by. The grandfather looked a solid man, a tough man, with skin tanned and leathery from countless years of toiling in the sun. He'd a dour expression on his face, though his daughter - or, from what Naruto could tell was his daughter - seemed warm and uncompromised. A pleasant smile graced her frayed, weathered kimono. It had clearly seen better days, but there was something comforting about her straightforward presence - unadorned, simple, and genuine. he had seen too many women like her in the village who'd hidden their jewelry away or sold it off, desperate for whatever scraps Mizuki or he could procure.
Everyone needed something to make ends meet, but for them tonight a frozen bit of ice cream was a nice luxury seldom have time to enjoy. The young boy who as with them looked pleased, if not a little sickly, as he liked away at the vanilla cone in his hand.
The walk to Hokage Mount was quiet, a welcome solitude after the chaos of the day. Each step on the pathways feeling like a money of reflection, allowing Naruto to turn over every stone in his mind. Sakura was worried about the changes she sense in him, Sasuk'e expectations loomed large, and Iruka's wisdom echoed in his ears, urging him to seek answers for himself. To understand who he truly was becoming, and where he wanted to be. Naruto felt he could understand that, though. He knew where he was going, but as for everyone else...?
As he approached the rocky stairway leading up the mountain, the stone faces of the cliffs stared down at him, dispassionate witnesses to the struggle of the village below. The stars twinkled brightly overhead, their light outing the flickering street lanterns that struggled to stand against the night. Naruto inhaled deeply, the cool breeze filling his lungs with the scent of stone mingled with hints of ice and moss. And them, faintly, a whiff of tobacco pricked his senses.
Reaching the summit, Naruto was met by a shadowed figure standing tall against the backdrop of a night sky. At first he had half a mind to think it was Kakashi sensei, till he noticed the flicker of a burning ember. It illuminated the face of Asuma Sarutobi, Third Hokage, overlooking the city he swore to embers of his cigarette glow softly, casting a warm light on his features, contrasting with the damning night air.
"Yo, Naruto," Asuma greeted, his voice steady and reassuring. "Kakashi told me you might wind up here tonight."
Naruto nodded, a mix of respect and confusion coursing through him. "Yeah, I just needed some time to think."
Asuma turned his gaze to the village, the dim lighting below a testament tot her esileicne of his people. Though, in his heart he wished he could do more than to just keep the water wheels turning, the generators going, and the charcoal burning. "This place has been through a lot," he goes, tone reflective. "But its sights like these that remind us what we're fighting for."
Naruto agrees as he came to stand beside Asuma, taking in the view of Konoha - his home - below. Yes, did Tokyo offer him more than what he wished? Of course, as any with a bad case of wanderlust would. Naruto had seen what the other side can bring, and wondered - was only a tiny bit curious - why it was such a bad thing to want to be like them across The Wall. Was it so bad, why was it so bad? Naruto wanted to ask Asuma, he turns to him and sees the pain on his face.
"I understand, Naruto," Asuma says, blowing a trail of smoke by his lips. "Really, I'm not here to blame you for anything."
"Why would you want to blame me, Lord Third."
Asuma gives him a knowing looks, the tails of his beige trench coat flapping in the wind, revealing the slick uniform he wears underneath. And the holstered Nambu-51 pistol hanging about his shoulder. "C'mon, Naruto, I'm the Hokage. I know..." Asuma;s voice carries a hint of force Naruto is quick to pick up.
"Don't know what you're talking about, sir"
"Naruto..." Asuma turns to face the teen fully, the well-maintained and encompassing man of Asuma encompassing him completely. "I came here tonight as a courtesy for Kakashi and Shikamaru; they'd rather not have me do anything drastic when it comes to you. I had to remind them, though, that as Hokage, I have a right to do what's necessary for this village."
Naruto stays calm and leveled as he responds in kind. "I, too, do what's right for the village...Sir!" Naruto is sure to hit him with he 'sir' at the end; Asuma chuckles to himself when he does.
"I know it might look like that, Naruto. But trust me when I say, from someone's who's lied to themselves plenty over the years, people will find any manner of excuses to be anywhere else. But what you're looking for isn't over there. It's in here," Asuma pokes Naruto hard in the head as he speaks. "And you need to have that come to terms with what's in here." Lord Third then points to Naruto's chest, giving it a strong flick before tossing his cigarette away.
The Hokage stands for a moment, staring at Naruto, then back over the Village of Konoha. Where they stand, the entirety of the cavern is seen easily, the light of the moon bouncing off the walls of rock and metal, the tiles of the angled roofs of the ancient castle towers. The gates stand black against the blued night, along with the walls covering the entrance. Small flash of distant torches walk from left to right, from one guardhouse to the next.
Defenses are on a four hour change tonight; the chunin set for the watch were new, only good for keeping their eyes open. They could do their jobs, Asuma trusted, but he knew the village posture was more for show. Konoha was feeling the pinch of a quality manpower shortage, needing to rely more on the ROOT contingent sent from Hokkaido. Didn't bode well for Asuma's peace of mind, who now had a foreign element operating within his city to contend with.
Naruto hesitates as he takes in the faraway look in Lord Third's face. Sure, he's heard good things of Asuma, and he's never had anything particularly bad to say about him. For Team 10 he'd been a stalwart in their lives, being as their clans have had a particular relationship with the Sarutobi's dating back towards the Iga's expulsion from Mie prefecture. Yet, tit was different for Naruto: Asuma was awkward, fumbling, like he was trying too hard. He came across more as hindrance every time the Hokage tried to dote on him.
Especially, all the times he forced in Naruto's past.
"Your mother was the same exact way," Asuma goes, pulling another cigarette from the pack - how Shikamaru hasn't picked up the habit yet is beyond comprehension. "Didn't feel like she belonged in Konoha, either. Always had a bone to pick because of it."
"Lord Third, I don't-"
"She, too, wasn't originally from around here." Asuma goes, the small flame of his lighter going up. "But we took her in. It was the right thing to do at the time. As it was right for us to do with you. We owed it to your mom."
"Asuma, I don't wanna hear-"
"That box I gave you with all that stuff she left behind? Have you opened it all yet? Kushina would've wanted yo-"
"I don't care what she wanted me to know!"
Naruto's anger jumps forth, causing the Hokage's guard retinue hiding in the shadows to flinch. With a small wave of his hand, Asuma tells them to stand down; he didn't need Naruto apprehended for voicing the same answer he'd given for years now.
"How many times do I have to tell you I don't care what kind of person she was, who she was - Any of it! She can't tell me anything because she's gone, and you have no right to speak for her about what she would've wanted for me."
A long time ago, in a little green case shuffled somewhere underneath his bed, a small horde of mementos hung about in Naruto's dorm room. He's moved it about here and there, put it in his closet for lack of space. Thought about throwing it away once or twice, yet guilt had ever told him no; whatever resentment he held towards the woman, treating her possessions like they were trash was almost too far.
Countless nights he spent gazing at the damn thing, confused as all hell when Asuma had brought it to him when he was just a kid. He was confused back then, too. And angry. As angry as any kid would be, and frustrated there were no answers given to questions he hand't the words for. A long while Naruto believed it was worth opening the case; a part of him felt like he owed it to Uzumaki Kushina to honor her last wish for her son.
But also Naruto felt iwhat good would it do him rummaging through the belonging of a past life. Going through old photographs, letters, bobbles, or whatever else would only make him feel worse for something he never had. And Naruto didn't want to be haunted by a ghost he never knew Asuma believed - falsely - that this would bring Naruto some comfort, when sadly it only spurned on more resentment. From then on, it had only been a case of corralling Naruto's antics to a "respectable" degree. Of course, there were "extreme" elements within Konoha who believed Asuma's appeasement to him was misplaced.
But then again...
Asuma moves out of the way, revealing a slew of paint cans laid behind him. There were brushes, ropes, climbing equipment - everything Naruto needed to vent. Naruto looks over the at the mix of colors, then back towards Lord Third; Asuma looks tired, has got more bags under his eyes than he remembers, seems long for a good night's sleep. He tells Naruto he's got at least a couple more hours till he shuts down the lights in the village. Naruto should have enough of time to make a good go of it.
"Just, if you are going to give me a mustache, get me a nice twirly one. Always a classic. Oh, and make sure you get some sleep tonight."
Naruto is left to his own devices as Asuma leave and the shades of night grow dark. It puts his detail one edge, as they'd been at all day. Minding Asuma's movements since the fiasco in Tokyo Metro, Genma, Raido, and Aoba took no chances. Vigilance was one of the few things recommended to ward off nosy ROOT players wanting to make a move. So far, luckily, Asuma had no problems.
Today.
Of course, tomorrw was never a guarantee.
As Asuma minds the steps from the mount, his mind goes over to what Kakashi had informed him of this morning: his comrade's finalized his idea for gauging the candidates, and has gotten the green light from Central. Tomorrow was going to be the cut day. Under the supervision of ROOT advisors, of course. And of Asuma, too. Watching in the background from a safe distance. For even if was monitored closely, the Forest of Death ever was a dangerous place.
Though, admittedly, Asuma was excited: Kakashi never proctored an exam before, and Asuma only imagined the scenarios the man concocted. He'd heard the fits his training regimen gave Team 7 in the beginning. Partially, why Asuma handpicked the CopyCat Ninja to lead the squad in the first place.
Who better to watch out for Kushina's son, than her own pupil.
Log End