Transmission # 3-3-7-1. Designate: Night Ride
North Side the Wall, Tokyo Proper; Hidden Village: "Leaf"
Building 3, Courtyard of Compound 1; Disciplinary action being administered
10:45 hrs; November 4, 1963
Rainfall came early that morning as the teams were roused for PT. Today was a 5k run around the mountain trails dotting the "Forest of Death". Followed by one-hundred sit-ups, one-hundred push-ups, three sets of two minute planks, target training, breathing exercises, and finally a jaunt through the obstacle course in the old Shinto shrine by the abandoned Tori gates. He was bone tired even before entering class began - They all were. Which made it better, because his body was numbed before the first swings of the kanabo raked his bare back.
"Kyu ju roku!...*THWACK* ...Kyu ju shichi!...*THWACK*... Kyu ju hachi! *THWACK*..."
The proctors weren't holding back as they rushed the count, hitting him a second sooner than when the number is called. Clearly, they'd rather be doing anything else than dishing out punishment so early in the day; even gate duty was more appealing. Yet, it was their job to be here - He knew this. As it was Iruka's to make sure he was properly punished - He understood that, too. Yet as the iron nails battered his body, and the sharp pinch of wooden splinters dug into his skin, never once did the feeling of "regret" cross his mind.
All had a place in this world. Naruto's was right here. In the middle of this stone square chilled by a cooler than average fall day. Smell of moldy leaves and damp pine needles mixing with the stench of sweat and damp rice straw. Eyes of his teammates staring directly at him while he's made an example for all to see. Sakura was there, biting the finger she held to her lips, concern so apparent on her face. Shikamaru watched intently - he definitely wasn't asleep for this. Nor were Ino and Choji, either.
Every one of them cringed at the onset of such a severe beating, yet as the count went higher soon an impassive looked dawned on all their faces. The reality of what they were seeing here was no different from what had been witnessed countless times before. Most of them weren't strangers to such reprisals - being on the end of some in the past, this was simply a matter of life.
"Kyu ju kyuu!..." *THWACK*
His head jolts forward with this last shot. Causing him to nearly break his teeth on the leather bit Iruka gave moments before he was marched out here, stripped from his chest down, hands bound in front of him. Small consolation, Naruto thought. He has half a mind to tell him where to shove it when all this was ov-
THWACK*
"Arghhugh!" Kotetsu's final shot nails him square in the shoulders, and he gags out the rolled up tube of leather.
The final count of "Hyaku" comes, echoing clearly around the courtyard for all to hear. A line of blood and drool falls from the corners of his mouth, as all his weight falls forward upon realization there isn't going to be another blow. The tatami pole catches him, and he holds it close like the long-lost lover he needed right now. It's the only thing keeping him upright as his boots begin to fall behind him and drag across the slick cobblestone. Before he drops, though, his spotter catches him.
Comrade-Proctor Mizuki had been doing this about as long as any of the other teachers. He knew his role very well here. NO student would fall after receiving punishment per the Hidden Village's creed. It would be unseemly if one were to do so; eliciting a show of weakness, sympathy, or worse pity. These were not traits desirable for ones expected to push past hardship.
Naruto is helped up by his strong arms making sure he stays on his feet. Try as he might to do so on his own, every twinge makes him want to curl in a ball on the floor. Mizuki doesn't allow this, instead assuring the boy he has him, as he begins leading Naruto away to the infirmary. "Over already?" Naruto asks one of the chunin who'd been hitting him as they walk past. Man had a bandaged nose, and dark unkempt hair spiked in all direction. "Just as I was starting to enjoy myself."
"Quiet." Mizuki jerks him away from the courtyard, just before Iruka steps out into the yard.
"Comrade Uzumaki Naruto has successfully seen to the completion of his sentence for the gross insubordination shown to a senior officer, and of the grand disrespect given to Comrade Nosaka, The Four Pillars, and to the people of the revolution." Though he's not a big man, Iruka's voice booms across the gray slate and red terracotta tiled roofs. Posters of The Noble One hang from arched overhangs, his likeness the center of a golden star where out stretch red rays pointing to the broad horizon.
"At this time, he will now undergo mandatory rehabilitation provided graciously by the State. This rehabilitation will not only see him healed, but also reinvigorated in the knowledge of our cause. Our history - our mission - is of grand sacrifice. Comrade Uzumaki's sacrifice here was his pride. As he was shed of it, so you too are relieved as well." Iruka walks about the courtyard, now as silent as a tomb. He fixes the gaze of each and every single student present, drumming his fist as goes, speaking the words they all know. "One for the many!"
"Many for all!"
"The Will of Fire!"
"We obey its call!"
The resonating cry of a hundred salutes echoes off the old stone. Naruto hears his peers repeat the mantra drilled into them from their earliest days. For some, this was a life chosen for them. The Hidden Leaf was always on the lookout for prospects, and most families prayed to have a child of theirs join the ranks. It was how some clans maintained status at war's end in '45, when the old military aristocracy fell, and the State Committee was formed.
However, this was the only existence he'd ever known.
Granted, he's not the only orphan here, but there were times this uniform monotony made him feel even more alone than he liked to admit. Instead of building camaraderie, these cold nights, and hot days; endless training routines blending into one, long routine of vomit - something he did a lot of. Left little to the imagination of what the other person felt, thought, tasted, or cared for. Most like it was throw up in the morning; rinse, wash, and repeat in the afternoon. Till their white PT shirts had weird orange hues around their collars which would never come out no matter how hard they scrubbed.
Mizuki carries him away toward the furthest corridor, making sure to be well away from earshot as he leans close. His voice is hushed, and he's mindful of the highly decorative screens along the dark wood floors; no one is ever truly alone in Konoahagakure, as prying eyes could be anywhere. "Tsubaki's in the infirmary," he whispers leading them deeper into the compound. "She's got everything prepped for you."
Naruto doesn't have it in him to respond, only grunting an affirmative.
Many folded screens go past as they walk along corridors of brightly lit rooms. In its interior, everything in Konohagakure was fashioned in a style more befitting a warlord's castle from the Sengoku period: hard wooden interior walls, a patterned maze of intertwining passages, all leading towards "killing zones" set into the dark rock of Mount Fuji. The Hidden leaf took its defenses quite seriously, despite being situated on an active volcano. Mizuki carries Naruto down the hallway, navigating the descending stairwells of free-floating steps. Naruto winces after each stair because his ribs can't support his body anymore. Thankfully, Mizuki says it's not far to the freight elevator.
"C'mon, we don't have time to waste."
"I...*hnnnnghhhhh*...can't...*hnnnnnghhhh*... breathe..." Naruto wheezes.
Torches alight a large wooden panel at the bottom of the stairwell. Two thick rope pulleys are suspended over a dark chasm running straight down, an old-fashioned crank lever situated before it. Mizuki pulls it, and suddenly teh sound of cranking gears and dropping weights are heard.
"Quit your bitching, a soldier pill will fix you."
Four glints of torchlight slowly rise to greet them out of the dark chasm when the elevator comes to greet them. Mizuki hastily shuffles them inside, throwing down the other lever, while a gasping Naruto struggles for air. The jolt downward also doesn't help, either, but Mizuki tells him to jsut keep his breathing measured, focused, slow. Easy for him to say, though, Naruto thinks. He wasn't the one potentially dealing with a bruised rib. Or, worse, if it's broken than that'll be even more difficult to deal with. Sure, he's climbed The Wall with broken fingers, a sprained ankle, and a torn pectoral once; but soldier pills don't fix broken bones, and it'll be harder to sneak out of the infirmary if that's the case.
The elevator carries the two down a deep chasm. Large rock weights and pales of water rise onopposite them. Sound of running water is heard, and Naruto feels the moisture on his skin before a looming waterfall appears next to them. The last uncomfortable bump takes them into a sunlit cavern, where before them sprawls in full-view the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Konoha fortress was aptly named because Aokigahara forest hides it from view along the mountainside. Running along the mouth of the cavern into the heart of the city, the forest and man-made artistry work a perfect balance, as the trees blend with stuccoed houses, red-wooden workshops, the large stone market square situated in the center. Off the distance the great library tower lays slightly beyond the base of the mountain entrance. A large, flowing river cuts through the center of it all, feeding into the five great lakes on their border.
Everywhere the bustle of a breathing city is seen as they exit through the cage. People go about their days in Konoha, living much like other people in countless cities in Japan would - vendors sells their wares, fishwives haggle and gossip, children run to and fro along cobbled streets, as elderly stroll along sloping bridges reminiscing about better days. And better days there were, if one gave a care to take a closer look...
Merchants sold goods at a price 15% higher their value than anywhere on this side of the Tokyo barrier, fishwives gossip over fish pulled from waters riddled with chlorine, boron pills, and ferric chloride; children run around in clothes their grandparents would've worn: lightweight yukatas lined with wool for the colder months, thick socks, and baggy hakama. A few trendier ensembles here or there, but nothing ostentatious.
The folk living here were stuck in a time capsule set down since Konohagakure was another ninja outpost for Hattori Hanzo and the Tokugawa Shogunate. It persisted through the centuries, outlasting the Edo Period and Meiji Restoration, surviving past the Showa, until its reclamation by the brothers Senju eighteen years prior. Hashirama and Tobirama were born and bred in this place, growing up with the tales passed down from their mentor, of noble heroes and warrior princes arising to overthrow the reigns of ruthless dictators.
Eventually, they would see their home freed. While Nosaka faced exile in China, his two pupils reclaimed the vaunted training grounds from the hawks in Japan's war cabinet. From then on strove to create heroes who'd continue looking over Japan. Just as they still do. Naruto gazes toward the carved faces staring out over the village, Hashirama and Tobirama flanking The Noble One in death as they had in life. The fourth face in the line however is marred and etched and obscured from view.
"Would you hurry up." Mizuki jerks him along hard, literally dragging him by the arm.
Tonight - as it had been most other nights - their asses were on the line. Everything here hinged on timing, and one slight miscue meant they'd be in a world of shit. Processing the kid wouldn't take long, punished students normally always get put at the front of the line. Shift changes didn't happen for another forty minutes, giving Tsubaki enough time to treat him herself. She'd saved them a room in the east wing of Tree Leaf Hospital. Security was scarce there. After getting a full day to rest his injuries, and once the ghost shift hits, the kid should be in the clear.
They had a deadline to make, and the supplier was finicky about timing.
The hospital was the first building encountered on their side of the river. A four story construction broken into two compounds, Naruto was ushered in through the service entrance. Mizuki knew the routine, having done this for countless genin and chunin wounded in the past. Once through the doors, a strong stench of cleaning agent and stale bedding is rife throughout. The waiting room was empty, save for a petite young woman in her drab white scrubs. On her face, Tsubaki looked concerned.
'Goodness," her breath hitches at the sight of Naruto. "At least put his shirt on, Mizuki?"
"Oh, sure," he says before plopping Naruto down unceremoniously on the chair Tsubaki had rolled out for them. "Was thinking of giving him a bath, too. Maybe stop and grab some breakfast on the way. Perhaps, head up to the Hokage Monument and take some pictures."
"Sounds like a better time than you give me." She fires back.
Mizuki gives his fiancé an irked glance. "Really? Now? You wanna make a thing to do about this now?!"
Naruto groans in his seat, leaning over to hug his sides. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, pain generates from down his shoulder blades over to his obliques. A warm, almost burning sensation leaves him feeling the kanabo did more than break a rib. Tsubaki rolls him around, and proceeds to throw a soldier pill into his mouth. The "mudballs" were made up of rice, fruit seeds, and all kinds of different steroids that could keep a wounded soldier fighting for three days if needed. Already, Naruto can feel the stimulants and pain killers working their magic.
"I've already signed him in, and made sure Dr. Yokosuka's going to be his attending." Tsubaki says walking fast down through the lobby and down a hall.
"Yokosuka?" Mizuki trails after them. He wipes a strand of pale blue hair from his face and back under the tight brown pilotka on his head. "I would've preferred that old geezer Kawada - still doesn't know we lost the war in '45."
"It's fine," Tsubaki takes a sharp right turn, and angles over towards the first room they see. Mizuki grabs the door as they all head in to a barebones medical room: long white sheets, small white bed, green linoleum flooring bringing the only color to the faded tan wallpaper. "Yokosuka won't bother with a wounded student if it's due to a disciplinary action. Besides, he's got a full-schedule today treating the ANBU just come in from the field."
"ANBU, really?" Mizuki asks, but Tsubaki shakes her head; of course, she'd probably wouldn't tell him even if she did know. ANBU operations were kept a total secret from lower personnel, with only medical staff and the Hokage himself being the only people to know their coming and going.
As he was being helped off the wheelchair, already his muscles felt more supple as he could stand on his own now. Tsubaki gave him a once-over, inspecting if there was any more serious damage, before applying the bandages; his ribs, she said, didn't seem to be broken. After asking him to breathe in and out and finding no struggle, it was more likely there'd o be slight bruising but that's it. The green soldier pill should stave off the pain until next morning, she informs. "You should be good to go for tonight, but just in case."
She presses another little green ball into his palm.
"You didn't have to grab more from the stock for me, Tsubaki-san." Naruto tells her, but the woman gives him an impassive look.
Truthfully, she didn't care if Naruto was hurt or not. And to her that was a sinful feeling considering her profession.
It wasn't anything Naruto personally. Nor was it really ever something he could fix either, unfortunately. You see, foreigners were already a strange commodity in Japan, let alone Konoha. Occasionally, a Russian or other citizen from a Soviet satellite may cross paths here, but it was mostly for "good-will" missions or joint drilling between full-fledged KGB and their ninja counterparts. Most leave, some stay. But those who do receive either mild contempt, or outright disdain.
Basis being many look like the American occupiers in the south, those same Americans who dropped two atomic bombs, the dreaded white devils who caused so many loved ones to never return home.
Of all the years Konoha defended Japan keeping barbarians out, Naruto had the misfortune of being one of those motherless souls who happened to look like the enemy.
It awarded no favors. As no one here would bat an eye if a gaijin went missing one day due to "security" concerns.
"I've a list of all the things I need for the week. Here." Tsubaki reaches into her scrubs and pulls out a folded scrap of paper. "It's not a lot, just medical equipment and supplies. If you can't snag most of what I wrote down, it's fine. Just make sure you get the liquid IV, though. Don't let him haggle with you about price."
"Will do, and I won't." Naruto takes the grocery list and gives it a quick look-see. Gowns, medical masks, and gloves were a normal part of the order; thermometers, batteries, syringes, and test tubes weren't so bad either. A "new stethoscope" had been underlined and circled with a few hearts drawn around it. Along with a little a smiley face in the corner.
Least she's not that cold on me, Naruto thinks, before Mizuki cuts in.
"Yeah, IV, sure," the other man says before reaching under the bed. He pulls out a large military knapsack that looks to carry three times its capacity. Mizuki unclasps the buckles where all of Naruto's equipment is within. Rope, the rubber studded tabi for climbing, the civilian clothes needed for when he gets to the train station - One good thing about looking like a gaijin is he won't have any trouble blending in, at least. Mizuki tosses a crumpled up T-shirt over to Naruto who catches it with an outstretched arm. "Now for the important stuff: Lucky Strikes, four cartons; two bottles of the Black Label, and two of the plum sake - you damn well be sure he doesn't give you the crap from last time; ten handhelds with a wire hook-up, eight receivers, comic books - not those dumb Archie ones, the katana-"
"A katana?" Naruto asks while putting the shirt on.
Many families within Japan's former war cabinet were descended from old Samurai clans, who delighted in the hunting down and the persecution of communists before and during the war years. Katanas since were strictly prohibited within the Democratic People's Republic, being seen as symbols of the former Shogunate. On this side of The Wall they are very much considered taboo. Instead, what many DPRJ officers use now are overly long bayonets, folded and stretched to create a facsimile of a western straight-sword of Chinese jian.
The katana many be outlawed, but the Japanese penchant for wielding blades can never be taken away.
"Special order, don't ask. But we'll get a good price for it." Mizuki pulls out a another sack within the bag, and opens it. Folds of red, wrapped up cash with The Noble One's face printed on them is seen. Mizuki gives a satisfying nod. "All right, should be enough here. Like, Tsubaki said: no bartering."
Naruto smiles and nods his head; he'd been saving leftover cash from each transaction for a bit now. Something caught his eye a ways back, and hopefully - this time - he'd have enough to finally get his hands on it. Everyone's got a price, and this time, they couldn't afford to be jackasses simply for shits and giggles. Even if they brought fucking dog-face there with them.
Suddenly, Tsubaki turns at the sound of echoing steps in the hallway outside. She curses, and quickly turns to Mizuki who's fast to hide the bag. Ushering Naruto to remove his boots, she undoes the covers and tucks him in. Again, she reminds him of the soldier pills if the pain becomes too much. Telling him because the beating was only physical, he won't be hooked to any machines, so he'll have free reign to do what he likes. Save for the security in this wing.
"Yeah, yeah; I got it, I know." Naruto shoos her away, paying no mind to the worked up look on her face.
It was the same one she had every time before he'd leave, but he knew it wasn't for him. It was only if he didn't come back with all the shit she needs to be a good nurse. Commendable, he thinks. Unlike, Mizuki. Who only had one concern, and that was to keeping the smuggling ring over The Wall running as long as possible. Money provided the means of upward movement for Tsubaki and he, with Naruto being the perfect mule to ride to such heights.
Fine by him, Naruto thought. He didn't want to go anywhere near where Mizuki or Tsubaki were headed. For him, there were much more interesting people over in Tokyo Metropolitan anyway.
"Talks between the Saigonjuntaand Atlas Pact members have stalled at the United Nations, with the major point of divergence being over topic of international aid. General of the Southern forces II Corps, Nguyen Khan, has gone on record saying: '[A]nything less than military assistance 'would seriously hinder Vietnam's ability to counteract communist and neutralist forces within the country...' A referendum presented by French Foreign Minister Georges Pompidou so far, though, has been met with a tepid response. Representatives for the Crown Dominion, Italy, and President-Fuhrer Wilhelm Bradley of West Germany all have expressed unwillingness to send combat troops amid rising tensions."
"However,a delegation consisting of Robert Menzies of Australia, Taiwan's Vice President Chen, and US Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara have all landed in Tokyo this past Monday night. Along with General Abernathy of the US Sixth Army, all are set to meet as plans for a tentative peace-keeping coalition begin to take shape. This comes as border skirmishes between JSDF and the DPRJ along the parallel have seen a slight uptick these past few months.Begging these questions if the Republic means to play a role in lieu of military intervention: how well equipped is she to deal with the defense of the island, and if so, what this means for the state of the military going forward? These issues Ikkyu Madoka'office is set to face, as the Prime Minister plans to oversee talks later on in the week..."
Transmission # 3-3-7-1. Designate: Night Ride
South Side the Wall, Tokyo Metropolitan; Ginza Train Station
Platform 4, north side of Tokyo Blue; Smuggler's run through JSDF
19:45 hrs; November 4, 1963
The night was already late enough for First Lieutenant Yoji Itame. A long day filing paper work, organizing out shifts for the ream, and a quick hoof through the perimeter made the fifteen minutes his shift change was late by all the more bullshit. He wanted to get home; there was nothing worth guarding here at Ginza station. Nothing but hopped up American GI's and their army brats looking to for the last train into Tokyo.
"Name and registration card?" He asks, reaching his hand out for the ID card.
The kid was tall with blue eyes, suited up in form-fitting jeans and matching jacket to boot, red-high kick sneakers with a little swish across the ankles. He had the brightest shock of blonde hair you could ever see.Yep,Itame sighs.No doubt s'either got a hot date, or gonna be looking for one.
Was a time Itame remembered what it felt like to get all dressed when he had the energy. Now only thing that gets him excited are the doujinshi from Bungei Shuto down at Genki Pop.
Naruto hands over his faked credentials, playing it off like it's a thing he's done a thousand times before. Technically, yes he had - but this guy wouldn't have a clue; guard shift changes happen so regularly at Ginza it's never the same platoon stationed here more than a week. Judging by the light gear this one had on, and the drab olive green uniform, most likely was a recon unit.
"Nate Miller, civvie; just looking to get into Tokyo for the night." Naruto says casually to Itame.
"Yeah? You and no one else, Nate Miller." The guard responds in more than decent English. Pretty impressive, Naruto thinks.
Itame gives the card a once over. It looks like every other American issued ID he'd seen in the last twelve years: big red stamp of the American eagle in the top right, place of birth on the second line - Gainesville, Georgia; no idea where the fuck that is, and the DOB printed in bold, black letters on the third.
"Seventeen years old? Don't you think you're a little young to be heading into Tokyo at this time of night?" Itame chided.
"No, why?"
"Only saying, wouldn't you rather to wait till tomorrow to catch the next train?"
"No."
"Cool, yeah. Sure. Don't mind me, I'm just the idiot doing his job." Itame quirks his head at the large knapsack Naruto lugs over his shoulder. Sigh, Christ it's too damn late to bother with this. Where the hell's Takeo? "Pretty big bag you got there..." Not that he intends to use it, but Itame thumbs the strap of his Type 39 battle rifle; little displays like this normally do the trick. "What's that for?"
"The hell's it matter to you?" Naruto responds with an edge.
Part of it was an act, playing the punk kid with an attitude issue concerning authority figures giving him shit. Whereas the other part wasn't him being legitimately perturbed; his night didn't get off to a good start. Iruka came barging in to his room just as he was getting ready to leave. "It's not like you didn't know what was going to happen. I had no choice, Naruto. had to punish you. The rules are the rules."
Naruto said nothing as Iruka talked. Instead, he was more than content to sit and bite into on the second soldier pill given to him.
His sides were beginning to hurt again, and it was hard to take in a breath.
Even if he wanted to say anything, there really wasn't much he felt he could tell Iruka and have it stay between them. Sad to say, but as the years went on and Naruto got older, it was becoming apparent Iruka was a party man through-and-through. It's what he believed in, what he needed to keep sane as the world teetered into this 'Cold War'. Iruka taught the history in classes, but Naruto was the one whom he told the stories. Wouldn't be his place to speak for Iruka now, but hearing him speak of what it was like. The bright light, the searing heat, your whole life up to that point gone in a single flash...
It wasn't fair; Naruto understood this for the man who took him in when no one else wanted. He felt for him, as no one else could. Saw him as something more than the brown and red uniform, than the gold stars on his shoulders, than how well he followed orders. He saw him as a man who genuinely good man who cared for his students. Who liked sharing the instant ramen packets he'd get with his food vouchers. Who didn't see Naruto as an outsider, but damn near tried his hardest to make him on of them...
Yet, it still didn't mean Naruto trusted Iruka, either.
And now he drew the short end of the stick snagging the one bored recon man giving him a hard time. This should've been a piece of cake, JSDF didn't give a rat's ass if they weren't shooting whatever wasn't in front of them. But this guy was giving Naruto a look like he'd just left out Los Alamos with a manila folder, and had a hotline directly to Moscow.
Itame gave a discerning look to Naruto, measuring the kid up and down per the prerogatives of his orders. Perimeter of the US base was a hard line out of Ginza, with the train station being the a major line of transportation here to Tokyo. He had to take his job seriously, because no one else apparently could afford he couldn't. It was only the by serendipitous arrival of Sergeant Takeo that spared him having to deal with another headache today. "Okay, okay, kid. Relax. You're not under arrest, I'm only doing my job - Unlike you! Takeo, the hell have you been?"
A huffing figure came jogging around the corner of the ticket box, disheveled gear and helmet cocked every which way. "Sorry, First Lieutenant. Guess I overslept in the hooch."
"Jeez, if you're gonna sleep, might as well do it out here instead of keeping me waiting." Itame hands Naruto back his registration, who shoves it down into the back-pocket of his jeans. Not wanting to stick around, he slings the knapsack of cash over his shoulder and proceeds down the platform.
Ginza Station wasn't big by any stretch of the imagination - really only consisted of one main compound with pretty much just two buildings, the track, and a small barrack for the guard attachment. The Tokyo Wall which stretched along the 35th, meandering down a bit to the south, only to ring its way up again was only a few miles to the west of his position. Konoha was't much further beyond that.
Making his way past the forest wasn't hard at night. Hopping along the branches made for a fast go, and being able to use chakra actually helped the tightness still felt in his sore muscles. Naruto flew through the canopy with little trouble, the wind pressing against his face. It felt good until stopping at the base of a fifteen foot wall of concrete. Large, in charge, covered in garish graffiti of all different colors, The Wall was the penultimate barrier between The Democratic People's Republic, and The Republic, North and South Japan, Naruto's world and the world of the great "other".
Plus, between the Hidden Leaf and a whole army of white devils.
Beneath the stars and stripes vividly noticeable even at night, another flag hung below the US Army base Naruto saw as he traipsed along the top of The Wall (chakra control was one of the first things taught in Konoha; Naruto being able to scale ceilings at thirteen years old). A green circle with a white six-pointed star shown against red and white cloth as floodlights ran back and forth along the tree line. Naruto was careful to steer clear of them, spying the second six-pointed star housed within the first surrounding around a large red "A".
Naruto was trained to hate this symbol on sight, or be stricken with fear by it. Iruka talked constantly of what the Sixth Army did during the invasion of Japan, how these men were by far the worst people this side of the planet, "inscrutable and insatiable when it came to blood-letting and death dealing". Problem, though, Naruto didn't know what "inscrutable" meant, and if these guys were insatiable for blood, he never got that vibe neither.
The only thing Naruto noticed was how much he looked like one of these "white devils".
He still wasn't sure if it bothered him as much as it did when he was younger. The feeling of being "noticed" back then hurt him something fierce when all he wanted was to fit in, even if he was ever reminded he couldn't. If not by the outward insults lobbied his way, but the glares many gave. Their gaze following him everywhere he went, and judging everything he did. Till it got so bad one day he tried dying his hair so people wouldn't notice him. Red was a bad choice.
The final call for the last train whistles in the night air, bringing Naruto's attention off the ground. He hadn't been sitting on the bench for long, and luckily he was one of only a few people on the platform waiting. Tuesdays would be quiet as many who work in Tokyo opt to simply stay till weekends. Infinitely easier to join families once Friday came along, than forcing a commute which by no means is cheap. Soon the far off and distant rumbling of the bullet train he feels becomes a great whoosh of wind. Shrieking steel comes into view, blowing his hair back with a great buffet of wind. He laughs like a kid, still getting a kick every time the Tokyo Blue comes in.
Feels like something straight out of the future,Naruto marvels when a finely dressed conductor waltzes out. Primmed to the nines in a dark blue suit and white gloves, he calls out for the boarding. Naruto dutifully complies, giving the man his ticket to ride and a indifferent nod.
The interior of the future isn't exactly something so out of mind it can blow one's mind, but Tokyo Blue's red lined interior carpet, well-maintained chairs still pleasantly fluffed despite the wear and tear she sees every day, definitely makes this part the best part of Naruto's journey. Two hours in a near empty line car being plied with snacks was the heaven Naruto looked forward to every single week when he gets sent out.
Makes the time needing to deal with Gato's cronies so much easier.