Author's Note: By some miracle, I made it. I am now officially moved out of my parents' house to a place of my own in the city - starting school again, working for an organization I've had my eye on for three years, and just getting to know my new home. I am alive and well and happy and still very suspicious of how smoothly it all went. Seriously, at this point, I'm waiting for something crazy like a piano to fall on me while I'm walking on the sidewalk because things having been going so unusually well and I don't trust it.
Uh... Excuse my anxiety thoughts.
ANYWAY "Neighborly Concern" brought in the absolute best responses to any chapter I have ever posted. I even received some wonderful private messages from readers and honestly, I cannot thank everyone enough for their kind encouragement. It served as great inspiration for me to get this chapter up asap and I hope you all enjoy it as you did the last one. With this update, the story's plot line is going to pick up a little bit, bringing in more canon characters and leading further into the Kakashi/Takara relationship development which is shown in the New Year's special. I can't wait for everyone to read what I have planned. Ψ(￣∀￣)Ψ
Ahem.
The answer for last chapters question: It took me years to identify and develop some self-care strategies that work best for me and as I grow, those needs change. What worked when I was 12 doesn't work quite as well as now when I'm 21. Also, the techniques I use vary depending on what I'm upset about. For when I'm most anxious, I talk about it with someone who understands what I'm going through (whether friend who has similar problems with anxiety or a therapist) or practice some positive self-talk. I remind myself that this feeling is temporary and whatever has me upset will get worked out one way or another. In the mean time, I journal, I watch movies that make me happy or inspire me, and I find a project to work on. Sometimes I just take a nice, hot shower and do facials and eat some good quality comfort food. ╮(╯▽╰)╭ Just little things that make me feel better.
This chapter is dedicated to my current food budget.
Curiosity and the Copycat
...a Naruto fanfiction story...
Curiosity and the Copycat © Mx. Irony
Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto
Takara is a Bisexual Badass
chapter 7
Ramen Girl
"Actions speak louder than words, and a smile says, 'I like you. You make me happy. I am glad to see you.'"
How to Make Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie
Dear Rima-chan,
Something happened with my neighbor yesterday and I don't know what I'm supposed to think. The more that I learn about this village and what is "normal" here, the less I understand. Children are taught how to fight before they can actually walk and at five are enrolled in an "Academy" of sorts where they are learn how to throw shurikan and identify poisons. Young teenagers are war veterans, and the adults are almost apathetic to grievous injuries suffered by their neighbors. I know it's different here, that that's their way of life and I shouldn't judge but...it's more than a little disturbing. Some see as me naive for reacting like this, even childish, a little civilian girl who doesn't know the ways of the world, but none of this is normal. The people here don't see that. How could they? This is their life.
And life as a shinobi is cruel. We know this from their great wars which hurt innocent farmers when shinobi turned the forests where gathered mushrooms as girls into battlegrounds or ruined entire fields with powerful jutsu, a season's worth of work destroyed in a single day - right before harvest, leaving us to scavenge for food in winter. Aomori may have suffered the worst out of all the prefectures but nothing compared to what this village and its people do. They brought violence into our farmlands, leaving us to repair the (sometimes irreparable) damages and mourn the lives taken as a result, but they are the ones who take it everywhere they go. There is no leaving it behind for them: violence is their everyday life. Honestly, when I think about it, it's hard not to pity them.
But then I see the community here, the close bonds between its people and how quickly - thoughtlessly - they would sacrifice for one another. It's like if even one person here was threatened, regardless of who this person was, the entire village would rally together to protect them. That's how close this community is.
I just hope Hatake-san will be okay... He's a ninja but that doesn't make him a bad person. I've found that to be the case with a lot of the people here. Again, someone might call me naive, maybe even stupid for thinking this way but I'd rather be an "idiot" who sees the good in others and believes in a brighter future than a jaded person who simply resigns themselves to the world as it exists and doesn't do a damn thing to make it better.
At this point, I imagine you smiling a little, maybe shaking your head. Also thinking me to be so stupidly idealistic that it's almost endearing. But I don't mind. As long as I'm endeared to you somehow.
I miss you, Rima.
Love,
Kara
P.S. Because I know you'll ask - no, I haven't found a job yet. Honestly, at this point, I'm starting to get a little nervous but please don't tell anyone. I don't want my family to worry for no reason. You know how my father gets (and Hotaka for that matter). I'll be fine. I'll figure something out. I always do. You know I do.
P.P.S Speaking of Hotaka, please do me this one favor the next you see my most cherished older brother.
Deck him.
Three days after his admission, Kakashi was formally released from the hospital. And he saw Hinamori face to face only a few times after that. The first time was the morning he returned to his cramped apartment where he saw her briefly much to his great reluctance. He ran into her at the head of the stairs as she was on her way down. They both stopped suddenly, taken off guard. Being at the top of the stairs, Hinamori stood inches above Kakashi and stared down at him, blinking. Her mouth parted slightly. Her hair was wet, freshly showered, and loosely braided over her shoulder but there were still shadows under her wide green eyes. She looked paler than he'd last seen her.
Kakashi looked at her, recognizing that this was the girl who may have saved his life. But what did he say to her? How would he even begin? It was this very reason that he wanted to avoid her - at least for a little while. Now Kakashi waited for her to say something (anything), used to her taking the lead in conversations, but she did not.
He rubbed the back of his head. "Good morning," he said at last.
Hinamori nervously licked her lips, opening and then closing her mouth. She cleared her throat. "Good morning, Hatake-san."
A longer, more awkward silence followed. Both sweat dropped at the situation.
Kakashi wondered when she would move aside so he could pass by but Hinamori made no motion to do so. Instead, she shifted her weight from foot to foot, deliberating. Something was on her mind, something she wanted to say, but she obviously held back.
I might as well. Reaching into the pouch strapped to his thigh, Kakashi pulled out the book Hinamori lent him. (He still wasn't sure if the book choice was a subtle insult or a genuine gesture.) He'd initially planned on putting it in her mailbox or anywhere else but directly to her but now he just hoped the gesture would get something out of her.
"It was...interesting," he said vaguely.
The corner of her mouth twitched. "I liked it," she offered.
"I don't know if I can say the same," Kakashi said bluntly.
The hint of a smile vanished. Her face took on a more neutral, closed off expression.
Kakashi wanted more than anything to body flicker away from the conversation altogether.
Instead of responding to his opinion, Hinamori asked, slightly awkward but not less sincere, "How are you feeling?"
"Fine."
Something flashed in her eyes, bright and sharp. They gave him a quick once over, skeptical.
"Really, I am," Kakashi said. He knew from her look alone that she didn't believe him; he didn't blame her. He wouldn't believe him either.
"Mmhmm." Hinamori gave him another assessing look, eyebrow raised. "Hatake-san?"
"Hmm?" He waited for her to call him out or ask a question or maybe even a mouthy comment. Already he prepared three potential retorts, ready to snap back. He knew there had to be something because she smiled thinly at him and then said -
"Could you please move? I have somewhere I really need to be."
Oh.
"Uh, right." Kakashi moved aside, nearly pressed up against the wall as Hinamori squeezed past him with a mumbled "excuse me." Her side brushed against his front, and his nose was hit full force with her almond-scented soap. Kakashi pushed himself further against the wall.
"Have a nice day, Hatake-san," Hinamori said as she climbed down the stairs. The scent of her body wash lingered in the stairwell.
Kakashi stared after her. "You, too..."
After that, their encounters were few and far between (well, even more so than before) as Kakashi actively avoided her. Now he took solely to the windows instead of doors. When she walked down the hall, Kakashi slipped into shadowed corners or used his impeccable speed to move out of her sight. But in a small apartment building like their own, they did see each other on occasion. And when they did, Hinamori greeted him as usual, cheerful on the surface, but her eyes were sharp and analytical. Her fake smiles came less quickly as she inspected him first, searching for hidden injuries. She kept a polite distance but still asked her questions whenever she ran into him. Only now those questions took on a more concerned tone.
How are you? Have you eaten yet today? How've you been sleeping? Are you drinking enough water?
They came one at a time, peppered into their typical interactions. Even when she did not ask any specific questions, he felt her eyes on him long after their stilted conversations. Concerned.
Kakashi didn't know what to make Hinamori's...mothering him. It felt too personal and strange and invasive and all she was doing was checking in on him from time to time. If anything, it made him increasingly aware of Hinamori. Even with his observations, the odd civilian girl was difficult to fully piece together with all her intricacies. She practically talked more than she breathed sometimes but what did he know about her? He saw both her forced bubbly side and the unreadable serious one, her naivety and her intellect, yet he still hadn't the faintest idea why she moved to Konoha to begin with. This left Kakashi intrigued and then frustrated at his own curiosity. All of these tangled emotions - because of a girl he didn't even know, whom he deliberately pushed away - threatened to overwhelm him.
So, he shared it with the closest confidante he had.
"And that's about it right now," Kakashi finished, scratching his head. The setting sun reflected orange off the obsidian memorial. "I don't know what to say to her, Obito. Or why she even bothers with me in the first place."
"Hello, hello?"
"Hi, Tou-san!" Takara said into the phone's receiver. Using the leasing office's phone, she stood towards the back of the room in a private corner. From the corner of her eye, she watched Ogino process Takara's most recent rental fee.
"Oh, Kara-chan! Sweetheart, how are you!"
"Good, good. Everything's good - just great actually. How are the boys? How's the farm?"
"Ooh, you know how they are. Not much has changed since you left. Hotaka is working, Hiraku is drawing his pictures, and Rikuto is getting into their business."
"Sounds about right," Takara chuckled. They continued to talk, Takara asking question after question about the farm and Nobuyuki updating her on nearly every person in the Hinamori clan. Whenever he'd pause, she would have another question about the crops this year ("How are they after that storm?") or a cousin ("Is Noburo-nii-san still seeing that one Tanaka girl?").
But eventually, Nobuyuki managed to get his own question in, the one Takara tried avoiding.
"Have you - " he cleared his throat "- have you heard back about a job yet, dear?"
"Oh, uh - almost! I just had an interview a couple days ago and it went really well. I'm expecting a call back soon. Things are really looking up!"
"Oh, that's wonderful, Kara-chan! I knew you would manage - well, I was starting to get worried because you've been...there for a while and well. W-well, you know how things are sometimes. But this is good - yes, good news. Fantastic really. Just wonderful. I'm so glad, Kara-chan. And so relieved. Not that I doubted you, of course, Kara-chan. Never. I'm just - I - I'm so - "
"I know, Tou-san. I know," Takara said softly.
"...well. How's that neighbor of yours?" Nobuyuki's voice lightened with humor. "I haven't heard about him in a while. Is he still getting your name wrong?"
"Aha, fine. He's...yeah, he's 'fine.'" Takara rolled her eyes at the memory of how "fine" Hatake was. Stubborn old man. "And he's actually been getting my name right lately. I feel like I've been promoted."
"He's an old man, Kara-chan. Sometimes it's hard for the elderly to remember details like that. Be patient with him."
"Oh, I've been more than patient with him..."
"Hm?"
"Where is everyone? Usually Rikkun is pawing at the phone by now," Takara said abruptly, tone bright and cheery.
Her father's rich laugh chimed in her ear, filling Takara with a tender feeling of homesickness. "Riku is at a Fujita-kun's house again. He'll be upset you missed him, so make sure to call back soon."
"As soon as I can," Takara swore, glancing at Ogino. The old woman paid her no mind, satisfied with payments. "What about Hirakkun?"
"He's at your oba-san's, helping out."
Her hand clenched on the phone. "...Oh? Which oba-san again?"
"Botan-nee-san. She's been busy and all, moving houses."
Her shoulders relaxed, silently breathing out. "Good for him."
"Mmhmm. He was reluctant at first but Hota-kun insisted. Though that just leaves me and him to do the chores 'round here but you and I both know that means I just get to watch. He's been working so hard lately - "
Half listening to her father ramble (humming and mumbling appropriately), Takara leaned her forehead against the wall and closed her eyes. I can count on Hotaka for that. Then more than ever, she wanted to talk to him. She wanted the full picture of what was going on at home, how the boys were adjusting to her absence, and how their father was really doing.
" - really, I've been wondering about that goat. The one we bought last spring? She's only two years old and no milk! Three kids and nothing. If this keeps, we'll have to sell her off to the butcher but she's so young. We'll wait and see but - oh, welcome home! I'm on the phone. How's the nanny doin'? Any milk this time?"
In the background, Takara heard a low, smooth-toned voice, indistinguishable but more familiar to her than her own.
"Is that Hotaka?"
"Again? Maah, that's no good. At this rate we'll have to - "
"Tou-san, can you put him on the phone?"
"We'll talk to Sohma-san, see what he say..."
"Tou-san."
"I know we just got her. But we can't keep an animal that just eats and shits. I know you've grown fond of her but think practically - "
She stretched the word into a whine: "Tou-saaaaaaan!"
Then she heard the voice again, clearer than before, complete with that exasperated tone he used when he was forcing himself to remain patient even while obviously annoyed. "Tou-san, someone's still on the line."
"Hm? Oh, yes! Kara-chan, hello? Kara-chan, are you there? I can't hear you." Off to the side: "It's your sister. Kara-chan? Are you there?"
"Yes, Tou-san, I'm here," Takara said with only a little more patience than her brother. "Can you pass me over to Hotaka? Please? I really want to talk to him."
"Ooh, sure, sure! Of course! Here you - Hota, where are you going?"
A reply was heard. Takara pressed the phone flat against her ear to catch it, cheek warm from the receiver.
"Aah...sorry, Kara-chan," her father said sheepishly, clueless. "Something suddenly came up apparently. He gets so busy out of nowhere."
Takara swallowed. "That's okay, Tou-san. I'll call again later."
"Kara - "
"Oh, my time's almost up! Sorry, Tou-san, I have to go otherwise my landlady will get mad," Takara said quickly. Her ears were ringing.
"Oh. Okay, Kara-chan. I understand."
"Love you, Tou-san."
Nobuyuki's voice was warm when he said, "I love you, too, Kara-chan. Be safe."
"I will. Bye-bye." That said, Takara put the phone down with a little more force than necessary and placed her hands on her hips. Jaw tight, she breathed in sharply through her nose. "Ahotaka."
The question came out of nowhere.
"When's your next mission?"
It gave Kakashi pause. He peered over his shoulder to look back at Hinamori for the first time. She met his gaze, green eyes intent. It was at this moment that Kakashi remembered why he preferred dark eyes to lighter shades; it always felt like blue and green eyes pierced straight through him, seeing far too much. He remembered his blue-eyed sensei's knowing looks, how self-conscious they made him when he was young. Hinamori's own startling greens sometimes made Kakashi outright uncomfortable.
"Some time eventually," he said.
She prompted, "Have you been assigned one?"
Kakashi considered for a moment. "I have."
"Already?"
Bluntly: "Yes."
"...oh."
"Mm." Kakashi offered nothing further. For once, Hinamori didn't press for more.
In awkward silence, the two of them walked down the stairs side-by-side. Kakashi's hands were tucked in his pockets; Hinamori's folded behind her back. Typically the civilian girl would be chattering about something or asking more questions. But today she said nothing - not even another concerned (invasive, too personal) inquiry about his overall health. The only sound was the creek of the stairs, the sound of her breathing, and the muffled noises of neighbors in the apartments they passed. To his right, Kakashi observed her from the corner of his eye. Hinamori's eyebrows her furrowed but she wasn't quite frowning. There was a softness in her mouth where usually when she was upset her lips would press together in a thin line. But her chin was tucked close to her collar and her gaze remained intent on the stairs.
What are you thinking about?
He wanted to know; he could have asked but he never asked those sort of things - not of anyone. But this time he almost did because he couldn't read her expression.
They reached the end of the steps and this time, this time (for observation's sake, only because he was maybe a little curious), Kakashi didn't rush toward the door. He lingered, moving slowly, as he waited for Hinamori's next words because if there was one thing he could count on about this strange, increasingly unpredictable (frustratingly so) civilian girl, it was that she would say good-bye. Her Aomori-ingrained manners saw to that.
"Hatake-san."
There it is.
Nonchalant, Kakashi glanced back at her.
Hinamori's expression was grave. "Be safe out there."
...
"You would say that."
He should have said "thank you" or maybe something fake and reassuring like "I'll be fine" or even "Don't worry about me," but someone like him didn't deserve Hinamori's kindness.
Takara stared at the spot Hatake was before he disappeared, gone before she could even respond. Before she could even give a proper good-bye. Her right eye twitched.
"What kind of - " Takara cut the thought off, gritting her teeth. She shook her head, clicking her tongue.
Today she learned that her neighbor - for all of his apathetic, anti-social ways - was in fact a drama queen.
Moving with rapid, near silent steps and his arms at his sides, Kakashi raced across the Konoha rooftops. A burst of chakra to his legs sent him from one to another. From below, he had all the appearance of a fleeting shadow from the corner of onlookers' peripheral vision. Kakashi's gaze swept over the near empty streets, always so quiet on Sunday evenings, and the surrounding roofs but remained overall intent on the nearing eastern gate.
Orange.
Kakashi's head swiveled around and he looked over his shoulder. Hinamori. Her bright, attention-catching hair was piled into a tousled bun. She stood with her hands on her hips, back straight and head high, considering a run down building at the end of the street. His revealed Sharingan saw the vibrant currents of chakra coursing within her. As Kakashi sped by without pause, he caught a glimpse of her face. Then he was at the gates.
Hinamori's sharp expression was the last thing he saw before leaving Konoha.
Ramen.
Ramen, ramen, ramen. That was all that Takara ate nowadays, and she hated it. She was sick of it all: the thick noodles that slid down her throat like vile, wheat-based snakes; the dehydrated vegetables that were squished between her molars in reluctant chews; and worst of all, the thin, near flavorless broth and its horrid aftertaste that no amount of mouthwash could remove (ha, as if she could afford even mouthwash).
To think, before going out on her own she had never actually eaten instant ramen. Living on a marginally successful farm, there was no need. Takara's diet always consisted of well balanced, hearty meals of fresh ingredients often provided by their own garden. Good lord, was she spoiled back then.
What she wouldn't give for one of those proper home-cooked meals now.
Takara glowered darkly at the rows of cup ramen before her. This is what she had been reduced to - banished to a single aisle in the grocery store. It was cruel, senseless torture for Takara to have to walk past all of those tempting vegetables that gleamed in the store's lighting. Her mouth watered just thinking about those ruby red tomatoes, so ripe and fresh and - !
There was quiet rumble that echoed from the empty depths of her insides. Takara put a hand over her stomach, looking down at it pitifully. "I'm so sorry, Tummy-chan," she murmured soothingly. "We'll get something for you soon. I promise."
Another growl. Takara sighed, patting her belly apologetically.
"Just a little longer," she assured.
"Hey, lady!"
"Wah!" Takara jumped, whipping her head around in shock.
A young boy stared at her oddly, eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. Bright blond hair spiked out of his hair, messy against his forehead. Takara's eyes widened in recognition.
"Uh..." Her cheeks pinkened but she smiled nonetheless, a little sheepish. "Oh, hello again. Fancy running into you."
"Who ya talking to?"
"You?"
"No, before."
"...my stomach?"
"That's really weird."
Takara's lips quirked. "I know. But sometimes, it just needs a good pep talk. Everybody does from time to time."
He looked genuinely curious. "Why does your stomach need a pep talk?"
"In times of hardship," she explained gravely.
"Hardship?" the boy echoed, brow furrowing.
Takara sighed and nodded mournfully, only acting somewhat. "It's been a rough month for Tummy-chan and me, kiddo. Grocery bills aren't exactly cheap."
Surprisingly, understanding dawned on the boy's features. He nodded quickly. "Yeah, I know what'cha mean."
Eyebrows shooting upward, Takara's face lost all of its good humor and turned blank. She said slowly, "You do?"
Discomfort tightened the boy's features as he seemed to tense, shifting from one foot to the other. He watched the older girl warily. "Yeah... What about it? I mean, everybody pays lots for food, right?"
"Yeah, yeah they do," she agreed, making herself relax into a more natural expression. "Do you go shopping with your parents, sweetie?" Takara swiftly glanced around the aisle, expecting to find another head full of blond hair or perhaps an adult who also had a penchant for orange jumpsuits.
"I..." The boy paused. "I don't really have any."
Her mouth opened but no words came out. She snapped it closed and pressed her lips together, staring at him. Scavenging her mind, she tried to think of something to say - anything - but came up blank. The only word that occurred to her was "sorry" but having heard it so many times after losing her mother, it was the last thing Takara wanted to say. No, she simply refused to say it.
Sorry didn't make it better. Sorry didn't bring a parent back or get rid of the pain. It was just a word, one to fall back on when you had nothing to say. There was no real meaning in it.
"What?" he demanded, defensive. His eyes flared.
"Nothing! Nothing..." Takara bit her lip, considering. "...so, I guess you've shopped a lot by yourself?"
"Yeah..." His hands tightened on the basket.
The taller girl forced on a cheery smile. "Oh, good. That must mean you have lots of experience. More than I do, anyway."
"How can ya tell?"
"Well, I've only been doing it for a little over a month."
"Really, a month?" A smile made its way onto his face. It suited him, Takara decided. "Wow. I really have been!"
"I thought so. You looked like you knew what you're doing. How long have you been at it?"
"I dunno - a couple years."
What?
"Wow. You must be a professional by now!"
The boy's brow furrowed as he looked at her strangely. Again. "How can someone be a professional at grocery shopping?"
"Same with a lotta things: Years of experience - which I don't have."
"Oh. I guess that kinda makes sense..." He lit up with an infectious grin. "Heh. I am a professional, ain't I?"
Takara returned it tenfold, teeth catching the fluorescent lighting. She pressed her fingers together in front of her chest. "You are! It's such a big responsibility. Maybe you can give me some pointers?"
"You bet!" He zipped over to her side with lightning speed and began to list off tips. "First ya gotta check the prices and see what's the cheapest. But you also have to make sure that it's good and not gross. There was this one time where I bought some apples on sale and they were all bruised and stuff. When I told the store guy, they didn't give me my money back. So now I'm extra careful when buying stuff like that. But you don't have to worry about that with ramen - " Takara pulled a face at the word " - 'cause it doesn't go bad or anything. That's reason number twenty-seven why I love it!"
"I can tell," she said, eyeing the shopping basket piled high with noodles.
The blond laughed. "Uh-huh. Best food in the world! This stuff isn't half as good as old man Ichiraku's but I can only go there sometimes 'cause it costs more money. Usually Iruka-sensei takes me."
"Ichiraku's, huh?" Takara mused. She passed by the little stand often while walking around. "I've heard that place is really good." Even if they did serve ramen.
"You have no idea! Wait - you never been?" The way he said it made it sound like a horrible tragedy.
"I haven't gotten around to it yet," she said, tucking a piece of auburn hair behind her ear.
"You have to!" he insisted. "You haven't lived until you've had Ichiraku ramen!"
That made her laugh and hold up her hands. "Okay, okay! But it'll have to wait for a bit. Money's a little tight right now."
Up close, Takara could see just how blue his eyes were as he looked at her seriously. "Alright. Soon as you get the chance, do it!"
"Definitely." Her eyes closed in her answering smile. "I'll just settle for instant ramen until then. Would you like to help me pick some out?"
Next thing Takara knew, she and the boy were going through the ramen row after row. The boy was grinning, practically bouncing in his excitement, the whole while.
"How 'bout this one?"
"Eh. I've had chicken-flavored for the past four nights. How's the shrimp?"
"Awesome! Haven't had that in forever." He sent three tumbling into his basket.
"Cheddar ramen?" Takara held the styrofoam cup and pulled a face.
"It's actually not that bad."
"I think I'll pass on that. How 'bout this one?"
"This brand's better!"
"Eh? But this one's cheaper."
"It doesn't taste as good. Trust me."
"You trust me. Every piece of ryo counts."
"Fiiiiine. At least give this one a try."
"I'm not putting anything in my mouth that has 'chili' and 'lime'."
"But it's sooo good!"
"Get out of here."
"You don't know what you're missing, lady."
They continued on like that for a while longer, debating over the ramen choices available. Takara managed to get a few laughs out of the blond boy which in turn caused her cheeks to swell. She missed interacting with younger kids. It reminded Takara of time spent with her two younger brothers. The little ramen enthusiast was like Rikuto in a lot of ways: bright and energetic, eager to talk to anyone and everyone. for that alone, Takara took an instant liking to him. His constant energy enthused her and made her more playful than she had been in a long time.
"Pardon me," a snide voice interrupted. Takara and the boy looked around to see an irritable store employee who glowered at them, mustache twitching. "You're disturbing the other customers."
Immediately apologetic, Takara gave the man an earnest smile and said, "Oh, I'm sorry about that, sir. We got a little carried away."
"It's fine, miss," he said, barely glancing at her. "I'm more concerned about him."
It was then Takara noticed that his glare was not directed at them. No, it was focused solely on the short blond at her side. He seemed to cringe away, as if trying to make himself smaller. The previously bold little boy avoided meeting her gaze.
"I beg your pardon?"
"We don't exactly...appreciate his being here." The man seemed to measure his words carefully, suggesting something that was beyond Takara's comprehension. He flashed her a meaningful look.
Something broiled in her stomach. Slowly, deliberately, Takara said, "What exactly do you have against a child?"
The child in question jolted as if physically shocked, blinking up at her.
"You're not from around here, are you?" the store employee stated. He squinted at her. "I should've guessed by your accent. A northerner, right?"
"And if I am?" she asked coolly. Takara could feel her temper rising at the mention of her accent but she kept it back.
"Of course an outsider wouldn't know," he muttered quietly. The man sent the blond boy another look.
Takara did not like that look. She did not like it at all. She took a step in front of the boy to block him from view.
"And what would I not understand? Please, enlighten me," she said, voice absent of its usual warmth, expression flat.
Frowning, the man shook his head. "Listen, lady, I know you don't get it but it's better if you don't even bother. He's - ."
"Nine years old?" Takara said.
"Ten," corrected the boy. Exactly Rikuto's age.
"That brat is a...troublemaker," the employee struggled to explain, speaking through gritted teeth. His eyes burned with such...hatred? It was appalling. "Always pulling pranks and causing a nuisance."
"A ten-year-old pulling pranks?" Takara lifted an eyebrow. "My, how unusual."
"The village would be better off without him."
Shocked, she physically recoiled. Her eyes widened then subsequently narrowed.
Takara wasn't an emotionally volatile child anymore. After some years, she'd learned how to rein in that wicked temper, to take a breath, tuck the anger away and turn into something useful. She knew where to let things go and when to pick her fights. She drew lines for herself.
When she sensed the little boy's flinch behind her, one of those lines were crossed.
Her shopping bag dropped to the floor, scattering cups of ramen everywhere. She advanced forward, getting in the grocer's face. She was at least three inches taller than him. Leaning closer, crowding him, Takara's lips pulled into a taut smile. Then she asked very, very quietly, "I'm sorry. I could've sworn I misheard. Would you mind repeating that one more time?"
The man pulled back, wide eyes staring up at her. He straightened in an attempt to appear taller, more confident, as he said, "H-he's a brat, a troublemaker. A waste of village funding! We'd all be better off without him."
"How dare you," she said, voice low and foreboding like distant thunder. Her accent thickened, lashing out like a whip. "Who do you think you are, talking about a child like that?"
"But - "
"But nothing!" Takara snapped, her green eyes blazing. "No one - absolutely no one - has the right to talk to ANYONE that way!"
"You don't understand!"
"Understand what? What is there to understand?"
"If you knew what kind of demon - "
"WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL HIM?"
Concerned shoppers were peeking into the aisle.
"Wait, no - I meant - " He looked around desperately, aware of eyes on them.
Takara's tirade drowned him out. "How dare you! You call yourself a human being? YOU'RE the demonic one here. Talking to a child like that! You disgust me. What kind of business is this? Is this how you treat all your customers? Or anyone else for that matter? The poor boy was just trying buy his ramen!"
"Yeah, yeah I was!" the blond piped up.
"Let me handle this," Takara snapped at the boy, briefly shooting her hair-raising glare at him.
"Yes, ma'am!" he squeaked.
"Miss, please - " The grocer tried to pacify her.
"I want to speak to your manager."
"My manager?" His voice pitched.
"You heard me! Take me to them or - or wait. Know what? Never mind. Bring them here."
"W-what?"
"It wasn't a request."
"He's on lunch break right now," he threw back.
Takara scoffed. "Then I suppose he has the time now."
"My manager will understand in this case," he snapped
Takara said nothing at first; she simply gave him a long look. Narrowing, her eyes seemed greener, piercing, slicing through him. The area around them was suddenly colder, suffocating, thick with unsaid intention.
The grocer swallowed.
Suddenly, Takara's expression smoothed over. A small, sweet-looking smile appeared on her face. Like poisoned honey.
A chill ran up the man's spine.
"Your vegetable aisle is at 46 degrees," she said simply.
He blinked. "What?"
The boy also stared, perplexed. "What?"
"Food codes demand that all refrigerated produce be at 40 degrees or lower for consumer safety. Just a degree or two higher would get you a slap on the wrist from the health department but six?" Takara clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "Even at just room temperature, bacteria doubles every twenty minutes. It's the middle of July."
"W-what?" said the grocer.
"Huh?" said the boy.
"I also happened to notice that one of your baggers seemed a little under the weather. Poor thing. I asked him how he was and he insisted that it's just a cough that's been ongoing for a week or two. Well. I certainly hope it isn't contagious, especially if since he's handling other people's food. By the way, is there a separate restroom for your employees?"
"Uh. No?"
"Oh, really? Because I didn't see any 'Employees must wash hands before returning to work' sign anywhere. I thought that was a legal requirement for most places of business," Takara said, tapping her bottom lip. "Hmmm. Would this establishment happen to be an exception?"
"I - I - "
"Lady, what are you even talking about?" the blond boy demanded.
"Oh, just addressing a few concerns I have as a valued customer. Say, sweetie, you wouldn't happen to have noticed anything odd about the deli aisle, did you?"
The boy blinked at the term of endearment, further confused. "Uh… Like what?"
"Did they use a different spoon for each of the food items there?"
"Umm... They just used the same one, I think. Why?"
Expression pleasant, Takara made direct eye contact with the pale-faced grocer as she asked the boy, "Oh? Anything else? Anything missing? What about the man serving the food?"
"Uh…" The boy scratched the back of his head, thinking. "He was really hairy?"
"I noticed that, too," she said, all syrupy and sweet. "Was he wearing a hairnet?"
"...no?"
"Or gloves."
The boy frowned. "What're ya getting at, lady?"
"The point," Takara said lightly, watching the grocer sweat with sharp eyes, "is that I have a lot to talk about with the manager."
Her teeth shined in the fluorescent lighting when she smiled.
"I...I'll go get him," the grocer said, taking several steps backward.
"Oh, one more thing."
He froze.
Smile gone, Takara regarded him coolly. "You owe someone an apology."
"I'm sorry, miss - "
"Not me," she said curtly.
The man stared at her. When she refused to break eye contact, he grimaced as though physically pained and turned to the blond who watched with a wide blue eyes.
Through clenched teeth, the grocer said, "I'm sorry."
The boy's jaw dropped. "I - uh, okay."
"There we are. Customer service!" Takara's sunny disposition returned full blast. "Before you go, sir, what's your name? You seem to have forgotten your name tag."
"Hiroshi," the man said flatly. "Toyama Hiroshi."
"Well, then, Toyama-san. I'll be sure to remember that. My name's Hinamori Takara. It's so nice to meet you." Takara bowed politely.
Back rigid, Toyama returned the bow. His eyes were dark as they glared at the tiled floor. "You as well, Takara-san."
Soon many in Konoha would know the name Hinamori Takara and for those who didn't, they would recognize the tell-tale bright orange hair.
The grocer scurried away on spindly legs. Takara watched him weave through the aisles with scornful eyes. She scoffed quietly. Under her breath: "Shameful."
When she turned to the blond boy, her expression softened. He stared up at her with big, shining blue eyes. He looked every bit like a lost little boy.
Swallowing, Takara knelt down to his level. Pushing her bangs aside, she peered into his eyes. Quietly, she asked, "You okay, sweetheart?"
The boy's breath caught and then suddenly he leaped at her. Takara fell on her rear, arms full of ten-year-old child. The little blond latched onto her, arms wrapped around her middle, and his face buried in her shoulder. Takara blinked, taken off guard as she automatically hugged him back. He was trembling.
"No one's ever done that for me before," he mumbled into her shoulder.
Takara's eyes widened. "Oh, sweetie..." she murmured. She rubbed his back soothingly.
The boy stiffened at the endearment, nearly choking. He had never been hugged before - by anyone. It felt so warm and soft and safe. He never wanted to let go of this feeling. Burrowing himself deeper into her embrace, he pressed as close as possible and latched onto this weird lady who talked funny and had cool hair and had shown him such kindness. He squeezed onto her so tightly it almost constricted Takara's ability to breathe. She didn't mind.
It must be because he had no parents to speak of, she thought. Without anyone to protect him, what was there to stop people from hurting him like that? People could be so cruel, especially to the most vulnerable...even for the most petty of reasons. Takara knew this personally.
After his breathing calmed down, Takara gently pulled away. She made no comment on his red eyes but returned his wide, disbelieving grin with a muted version of her own. "What's your name, honey?"
"Naruto," he said, excited, giddy, thrilled to have someone to talk to. This was the first time anyone had asked what his name was or even taken the time to ask him anything. Already, he was soaking in her attention. "Uzumaki Naruto!"
Takara smiled at Naruto, charmed. Her right cheek dimpled. "Hello, Naruto-kun. It's very nice to meet you."
Leaves shrouded the purple-haired woman crouched on one of the higher tree limbs, obscuring her figure from below. Through the slits of her porcelain mask, she peered down at the Jinchuuriki and the stranger who walked with him. The strange woman's most notable feature was her garish orange hair, easily picked out from a distance. She walked with long, thoughtless steps, completely unlike that of a ninja - adding credibility to her civilian guise. The Anbu didn't recognize the stranger's quietly warm, distinct chakra; it was like a wisp of flame that flared up to any chakra sensor who walked by her.
Without notice, the Anbu operative tailed the Jinchuuriki and the stranger from a small distance. Her fingers twitched when the stranger reached out and brushed back the Jinchuuriki's hair ("You need something to push back these bangs, Naruto-kun."), prepared to whip out a kunai at the slightest potential threat.
The stranger paused, back stiffening. She turned her head and looked up. For half a second, the Anbu tensed as she thought that the stranger's bright green eyes made contact with her brown ones. Then a full second passed and the stranger's brow furrowed, gaze sweeping across the other trees.
"What is it, lady?" the Jinchuuriki asked.
"I thought...ah, it's nothing." The stranger shook her head briefly. She gave Naruto a firm look. "And you need to stop calling me 'lady.' It's rude. You may call me Hinamori-san."
"What about Takara-san?"
"You don't call people you just met by their given names!"
"But everyone does it! And you call me Naruto-kun." As the Jinchuuriki argued, the Anbu jumped from one tree to another. She slid down its trunk, back against it, and listened closely.
"That's because I'm older than you and no, not everyone does that. Just here."
"Here? You mean the village?"
"Mmhmm."
"Where ya from then?"
"Aomori."
The Anbu mentally filed that information away.
"Where's that at?"
"Don't they teach you geography at that Academy?"
"Um, maybe? I think so. I must've missed it..."
Patiently: "It's the northern most prefecture of the Land of Fire in the west, bordering the Land of Plains and Land of Gorges."
"Uh...where are those again?"
"They're the countries between the Land of Fire and...the Land of Earth." She quickly added, "You might know them better by their Hidden villages, Kusagakure and Takigakure."
"Oh, yeah!" The Jinchuuriki's voice rang louder in recognition. "Iruka-sensei mentioned something about them."
"Iruka...? You call your teachers by their given names? For the love of..."
"What? He told us to call him that!"
"You're fine, Naruto-kun. Things are just a little different in Aomori..." Under her breath: "Very different."
"So, since we're in Konoha, can I call you Takara?"
"No, thank you."
"Aaww, c'mon!"
The Jinchuuriki followed the stranger - this "Hinamori Takara" - for the rest of the afternoon, and the Anbu followed them. They walked through the village streets together, seemingly ignorant of the villagers' odd (some bordering revolted) looks. The Kyuubi container persisted until Hinamori agreed to go with him to Ichiraku's ramen stand. She paid for the Jinchuuriki's bowl but didn't get one of her own. Then she insisted on walking Uzumaki home as it was dark out, to which the Anbu was extra vigilant in trailing after them - prepared for an attempted kidnapping or even assassination from this stranger. But none of that happened.
Throughout all of their talking, Hinamori never revealed any further information about herself. The only information that the Anbu operative gathered was her name, age, where she was from, and where she lived.
Right next door to the Anbu's own senpai, the Leaf's Kakashi of the Sharingan.
Author's Note: Y'all. Y'ALL. Do y'all understand that this story is less than 5 people away from 1000 followers?! [insert longest yeah boi ever] As previously mentioned, once that mark is hit, I will write extra bonus content for C&C - using prompts from some readers. I've already picked on person who PM'd me (you know who you are) to message me again when that number hits the lucky 1000. I am open to picking out a few more at random from those who review. So, hit that pretty "review" link and send me some feedback!
Quick announcement: the poll for the Takara/Kakashi ship name remains up and active until chapter 8. While people were great about giving their input in reviews, I won't count their vote unless it is on the poll itself. So click on over to my profile and vote, everyone! ╰(✧∇✧╰)
Alright, question of the chapter: tell me about a time you stood for something that was right. If nothing comes to mind, tell me how you'd like to do so in the future.