Dragonheart | By : UmbreonMessiah Category: Naruto > General Views: 1644 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
A/N: I’d like to make a little announcement here that I forgot
to make in the previous chapter. The villain Chidaruma Akuchi from chapter 19
was the creation of a friend of mine, who asked really nicely to have him put
in, and I obliged. All credit goes to him for the awesomeness that is Akuchi.
Dragonheart
Chapter 20
Tapered rays of sunlight dotted
the landscape of Naruto’s dark bedroom. It was normally bright and colorful,
but for the last few days had seen very little radiance. It had become a dim
sanctuary for two Konoha shinobi who had been through more than enough trials
in the last few weeks. Together they remained sheltered from the outside world,
shutting out the horrors that had attempted to consume them. For almost two
weeks they had remained secluded, tucked away from prying eyes, ears and
mouths. They had no care for the opinions of the village. All that mattered was
that they were together.
Hinata lay quietly underneath
Naruto’s warm embrace, nestled within his protective hold. She could not
remember the last time she hadn’t felt his strong, warm body against her own,
nor could she recall the last time she’d been dressed. Not that that fact
bothered her at all. She was more than happy to be held, pressed tightly
against the nude body of her lover. There was something about the added warmth
and intimacy that made the barely glowing room seem twice as serene. The room
had been this way the day before, as well as the day before that. It was a
pattern that the disowned heiress could have gotten used to.
The recollection of her expulsion
from the Hyuuga clan caused Hinata to bury herself deeper in Naruto’s sleeping
arms. Never had she felt more removed from her family than that day. That day
she had refused to hide or denounce her relationship with Naruto. It had been
the second bravest thing she had done in her entire life. For it, the elders
finally turned their back on her, and ordered her father to disown her. Hinata
had been heartbroken when she’d heard the final decision, and even more devastated
when she learned that Hiashi’s only alternative was to risk the same fate. She
did not blame him for his decision in the end, her mind drifting faintly to
Hanabi. The fledgling kunoichi had been as much a part of Hiashi’s choice as
Hinata’s well being.
In the end, the head of the Hyuuga
family had chosen to embrace his younger daughter’s future and leave his eldest
in Naruto’s hands. Though it had been tough on all of them, Hinata could not
help but smile gently as she remembered her father’s words from that day. She
remembered how he had held her much like he had when she had been younger. She
remembered how he had stroked her hair and told her that everything would work
out in the end and that she should not worry. She had felt no fear inside her father’s
arms, comforted by closeness she had not experienced since she had been little.
He will look after you better than I have these last few years. Even if you don’t believe me, know that I
believe in Naruto as much as you do.
A faint blush washed over her
cheeks as she shifted slightly, turning her head to look at the sleeping form
of Uzumaki Naruto. She hated to use the word, but he had been perfect to her. Even in her moments of
weakness he had still not given up on her. She regretted having put him through
the fiasco that had been her aborted marriage. She wished she could have told
him, but the success of her escape depended on only herself, her father and
Neji knowing the details beforehand. If only things had gone as planned, then
perhaps her life could mimic the perfection she found in the blond’s actions.
Hinata rolled around until she was
facing Naruto. She found him adorable when he was asleep, small bands of
sunlight painting his whiskered cheeks with gold. She reached out with her
small hand and stroked his face, giggling as she watched him stir from his
slumber. His enchanting blue eyes fluttered open shortly, making her their
first sight of the day. Naruto smiled and pulled her closer until her breasts
were pressed against his toned chest and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
“Morning,” he mumbled.
“Morning,” she squeaked, pressing
her lips to his chin.
Naruto adjusted himself, grumbling
as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Good lord, what did we do last night?”
Hinata’s eyes flattened as she
flashed him an annoyed but quirky grin. “What do you think?”
The poorly set up joke managed to
draw a single chuckle out of both of them before they kissed again. Naruto
slipped onto his back and looked up at the ceiling, the First Hokage’s necklace
slipping down the side of his chest as he laid back. Hinata slid her arm over
his chest and held herself to him, resting her cheek on his shoulder.
“Is everything going to be okay?”
she asked.
“You asked me that yesterday,” he
stated with a smile. “You think my answer’s changed?”
“Gomen, Naruto-kun,” she
whimpered. “I just…”
“Relax.”
Hinata looked up at him, her
concerned face melting away as she brushed her nose across his neck and inhaled
his scent. When she was with him like this, nothing else could truly bother
her. She felt whole and alive when she was in his arms. She could not recall
ever feeling so complete.
“Gomen,” she repeated, her voice
dreamy.
“Stop apologizing,” Naruto
laughed. “You keep that up and I’m gonna start being sorry for you being sorry!”
Hinata giggled and curled the
fingers of her left hand around his shoulder. With a gentle shove she rolled
him onto his back, clambering on top of him with a devious little smirk. Of the
many things Hinata loved about Naruto, his ability to make her smile was number
one on the list. The blankets that had kept their combined modesty intact slid
down her slender frame, exposing her body to her lover.
“Gomen, Naruto-kun,” she said once
again, rubbing his shoulders. “How can I make it up to you?”
Naruto’s lips curved into an
imitation of Hinata’s naughty grin, lowering his hands to her hips. “Hmmm, I
don’t know…I can think of a few things…”
Before Naruto could lean up and
kiss her once more, a loud knock came to his door. Surprised that someone would
be coming to his apartment this early in the day, Naruto tilted his head in the
direction of his frog clock, only to realize that it was almost noon. He looked
back up at Hinata, whose smile was quickly deteriorating into a cute little
frown.
“Can’t we pretend we’re not home?”
Naruto laughed and left a small
peck on her cheek as he sat up. “Sorry hon.”
The two shifted around until
Naruto slipped out of the bed, pulling his underwear and pants back on. Hinata
slowly slumped onto her back as he went to answer the door, letting a smile
return to her lips as she stared up at the ceiling. Though she couldn’t truly
escape the outside world, it didn’t matter.
She had Naruto.
A moment later her daydream was
interrupted as Naruto stepped back into the room and threw her clothes to her.
Hinata sat up with a confused whimper, looking at her boyfriend with concern.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“It’s Yakusho,” Naruto replied.
“He’s going to talk.”
Hinata did not need any more
reasons. She began to dress herself quickly without another word.
Jiyumaru stared at the heart
monitor to his left. He had been staring at its cold blue communication for
hours now, watching its voice rise up and down in tandem with the chorus of his
life. He found the sound displeasing, as though it were some sort of mocking
chant against his existence. Why should it or anyone else care if he was still
alive? At one moment in his life it would have made sense to him, but now it
was nothing more than a foreign ideal. How could anyone let someone such as he continue
to live?
At the foot of his bed, Ayame
continued to snore gently. She was hardly as noisy as he claimed she was, small
whimpering sounds fluttering out of her every once in a while. True to her
loyal nature, she had not left his side since his family had dragged him out of
darkened room in the hospital’s basement. Ayame refused to leave him, no matter
what Akira and the others told her. She’d even threatened to punch one of the
doctors in the face when they told her she’d have to leave. In the end, the
hospital staff had relented and allowed her to remain.
He understood clearly now, of
course. The reason Ayame had been hysterical yesterday was now plainly obvious
to him. Everything began to make sense. Yet, at the same time, none of it made
any sense at all. He could not comprehend how the things he now understood
could be true. It was all a lie. It had to be. He refused to believe any of it.
But at the same time, he could not
deny the truth. It haunted him, eating away at his insides no matter how hard
he tried to push it out. The images replayed in his head like they had in that
inescapable dome, over and over with no end in sight. Over and over and over
again the same twisted movie played in his mind, never ending and never
relenting. Jiyumaru was assaulted continually by that horrifying vision that
had been kept sealed within his mind for a little over ten years. His body
shook as he fought off the horrible nightmare, tears welling in his eyes as it
consumed him once more. He screamed, but how loud he was not sure of. Both
hands gripped his head as if to try and pull the horrid picture out of his
brain. Instead they pressed viciously against his temples, trying to crush his
head in order to stop the terror that was his thoughts. He screamed again, this
time totally sure he would wake Ayame.
Not that he cared. Why should he?
She had hidden the truth from him. He was a monster and deserved to die.
Oddly enough, the screaming and
shouting was not what finally woke Ichiraku Ayame. Rather, it was the sound of
shattering glass that brought her from her dreams to the real world again. She
shook her head fiercely, trying to regain a sense of where she was as she heard
more noises. She could not distinguish the meaning of each sound, but knew
something was amiss. The world came into focus just in time for her to see
Jiyumaru pulled a large shard of glass towards his neck.
“Jiyumaru!”
Ayame lunged from her prone
position and slammed Jiyumaru against his bed, knocking the shard of glass from
his hands. A draft passed over her as she pinned him down, turning her eyes to
the recently shattered window within his room. There was blood on his sheets
and hand, giving the clear sign that it had been him that had broken it. She
held him fast against his struggling and yelling as she prayed to Kami the
doctors would get there sometime soon.
“Jiyumaru, stop it!”
“Let go of me damn it!” Jiyumaru
screamed. His voice was broken, much like he was, wavering in places that
normally had been so strong. “Let go!”
The two of them struggled for what
seemed like hours, thrashing on the bed as Jiyumaru reached for another shard
of glass. Just when Ayame thought she could hold on no longer the door burst
open as a doctor and two ANBU members ran in. Together they all held Jiyumaru
still while the doctor tried to calm him. Jiyumaru slowly settled down, gasping
for air as four separate people held him to his bed. Ayame peeled herself off
her former teammate, shivering slightly as she worked the waves of fear out of
her body. She had been scared before, but never truly terrified. She continued
to shake, gripping her arms in an attempt to straighten herself out. Convinced
that the issue was resolved, the doctor dismissed the two ANBU and began
cleaning up the glass that had been scattered across the room.
When the doctor finally left
several moments later, Jiyumaru curled tightly into himself and began to cry.
The tears he shed were seemingly unending, stored within him for nearly a
decade behind a single red drop. He wept openly for the third time since the
unsealing that morning, tearing away at Ayame’s heart with each shuddering sob.
She was partly to blame for his current situation, but not nearly as much as
she felt she was. Her arms slowly draped over his shoulders and pulled him into
a hug as she cried with him.
It was all a lie.
It had to be.
Tsunade strummed her fingers
against her desk, watching the door to her office apprehensively. There was a
stillness in the air that simply bothered
her. For the first time in recent memory Shizune was utterly quiet and Tonton
was not squirming about irritatingly. Yes, for the first time in months the
Hokage’s office was the paradigm of order, and that scared Tsunade. The old woman had become so used to the chaos
surrounding her job that the eerie calm caused shivers to ripple throughout her
body.
“It’s just too damn creepy,” she
muttered.
“What is, Tsunade-sama?” Shizune
perked up. She seemed all too grateful to have the silence broken so abruptly.
“This entire setup.” Tsunade sat
up straight in her chair, looking at her assistant distraughtly. “I’m going to
get a lot of hell for all of this…and I’m not entirely sure we can trust
Yakusho.”
“Naruto trusts him,” Shizune
mumbled. “At least, I think he does…”
“Whether he does or not isn’t the
point here.” The Hokage rubbed her temple with a deep sigh. “Yakusho has
threatened the safety of this village, and his allies nearly abducted one of
our shinobi. It is impossible for us to simply overlook all this even if Naruto
believes in him.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
Shizune looked even more worried now, as though she already knew what Tsunade’s
plan was.
“I don’t know,” the blonde
responded. “I suppose it depends on what he has to say.”
A knock came to the double doors
of the Hokage’s office. Tsunade beckoned to the guards on the other side to let
her visitor in, waiting patiently as the great lacquered entrance swung open.
The sound of geta clapping on wooden floor was heard five times before the
doors closed again, ushering in a wave of quiet that could only be broken by
the great blonde.
“Do you know why I’ve summoned you
here, Ryumoto Yakusho?”
For his part, Yakusho looked much
better than he had the day previous. He had been given the chance to clean up
and shave, returning his youthful looks to him. His hair remained an overgrown,
rampant mess, hanging over his new headband and draping over his eyes in
strands. He had also reclaimed his red vest, reuniting him with his signature
colors. The only thing that prevented his ensemble from being complete was the
lack of the Dragon Fang, which was still locked tightly away in Tsunade’s safe.
“I’ve got a fairly decent idea,”
Yakusho replied sardonically, showing that his wit had returned as well.
“Where’s everyone else?”
“I called you here early,” the
Hokage stated bluntly. “There are things that still bother me about you, as you
may well be aware of.”
“I probably could have guessed.”
Tsunade eyed him warily before
continuing, bunching her hands together and resting her chin on top of her
index fingers. “You should be well aware that no matter what Naruto says, I
don’t trust you.”
“Your accommodations made that
more than clear.” Yakusho remained impassive, reaching up languidly to scratch
his ear.
“Shape the hell up!” she snapped.
Yakusho instantly straightened, his attitude no match for the power of the
Hokage. “I brought you here to make sure that you don’t fabricate any of the
events, people, or locations you’re about to talk about…trust me, we’ll know if
you are.”
“And if I do?”
Tsunade seemed to revel in her answer
for a moment before leaning back in her chair, eyes leveling with Yakusho’s.
“If you lie to us here, then I have no choice but to adhere to the wishes of
the elders and have you executed.”
Nothing happened after that. The
three people inside the room did not say another word, nor did they make any
movements whatsoever. The only disturbance was a nervous “oink”, uttered only
once from Tonton as the pig wriggled in Shizune’s grasp.
Another knock came to the office
doors, signaling the arrival of the day’s other scheduled guests. Yakusho stood
his ground as the other shinobi filed into the large room, feeling the stabbing
sensation of eye after eye focusing solely on him. It was unpleasant, but he
dealt with it all the same, shifting his weight between his feet until everyone
had entered.
It was by no means a small or
insignificant gathering. Assembled before the Hokage were some of Konoha’s
finest, including Jiraiya, Hatake Kakashi and Hyuuga Hiashi. The others –
Haruno Sakura, Uzumaki Naruto, Hyuuga Hinata and Hyuuga Neji – were there only
by Yakusho’s request. Their presence had been his one and only condition to
testifying.
“I see you’re still alive,” Hiashi
stabbed at Yakusho, his voice saturated with anger.
“Sorry, did I offend you?” Yakusho
retorted, not even turning around to look Hiashi in the eyes.
“You attempted to kidnap my
daughter. That’s reason enough for me to see you dead, boy.”
“Both of you, control yourselves!”
Tsunade slammed her desk, sending a crack down its center. The bickering stopped
quickly, Hiashi standing taller than he had a moment before.
“So it is true?” Hinata whispered, leaning towards Naruto. “He really did?”
“Not so much himself,” Naruto
replied in a similar tone. “But he was part of the team that almost took you
away.”
“I…I know that...” the distraught
girl whimpered. “I just…didn’t want to believe it.”
Tsunade slowly stood up and walked
around to the front of her desk, placing her palms on the rim before leaning
back onto it, taking a seat on the wooden structure as she looked intently at
Yakusho. “Is this everyone you wanted?”
The young ninja turned to face his
audience, taking a moment to look them over before giving a slight grunt.
“We’re one short.”
“That can’t be helped.” Tsunade
repositioned herself slightly, shifting on the edge of her desk. “Now, let’s
start at the beginning…namely, who you’ve been working for.”
Yakusho nodded quietly, his eyes
darting to the side in momentary anger. It dissipated rapidly as he focused on
his newly outstretched palm, looking the calloused appendage over as if it held
answers, or were a window that showed the past the dragon ninja so desperately
wished he could forget. There was no turning away from it however, no matter
how hard he tried. It would always be lording over him, reminding him of the
way his life used to be.
“When I was orphaned, I spent many
years wandering the places between the Land of Fire and the Land of Earth,” he
recounted. “In those quiet days I would keep to myself, constantly roaming
across barrens, mountains and forest, living day to day on the kindness or
misfortune of others. I was nothing more than a leech, trying to survive the
only way I knew how…by living off others.”
Yakusho looked up cautiously,
purposely avoiding the deep gazes of his peers. He could tell even without
looking that they were all intently focused on him, especially Naruto. Hinata
seemed to grace him with an air of sympathy that blanketed him warmly, like a
mother tucking in her child for bed. The brunet quickly shrugged the joyous
feeling away, reminding himself of his purpose and the murderous stares of the
older people in the room.
“It was even before I met Katai
that I met him.” Yakusho sighed and
flicked a strand of his unkempt hair out of his eyes, muttering inwardly about
still needing to have it cut. “He…is a man unlike any other. Simply by looking
upon him you can feel his power, and by staying with him you can experienced
the soothing illusion of his generosity. He is a man like no other…especially
when it comes to lying. He is the man who is responsible for the entire
kidnapping plot. It was he that raised my friends and me since we were little
kids to help him achieve his goals.
“He is Ryumoto Kakeru.”
The congregation shook at
Yakusho’s final words, the violent tremor sending a unified gasp throughout the
small chamber. The most visibly shaken was of course Naruto, whose limbs and
lip trembled with something akin to anger, but bordering more closely on
confusion and disappointment. Hinata’s look was strangely forlorn, echoing the empathy
she seemed to have for all her friends, whilst her cousin stared quite
pointedly and angrily at the red-vested narrator. Sakura was the only one he
could not read, as her face was cast downward. If Yakusho were to hazard a
guess, he imagined she was trying to piece it all together, all the while
keeping her true feelings hidden.
“Y-you told us you were the last
of your clan!” the blond Jinchuuriki suddenly blurted.
“In a way I guess I lied,” Yakusho
admitted, letting the image of his audience sift through the spaces between his
messy hairs. “Yet in another way, I didn’t. Though Kakeru is a member of the Ryumoto clan, he is part of an entirely
different Tribe than I am.”
“Tribe?” Neji graced the
conversation for the first time, his voice demure despite the fierce scowl that
decorated his face.
“The Ryumoto clan is separated
into several tribes, which are based upon the dragons of old,” Yakusho
explained. “At birth into a tribe, we are infused with a particular kind of
dragon’s blood and chakra, and live our lives as though we were a part of that
dragon’s flight. I am of the Bronze Tribe, whereas Kakeru is of the Black
Tribe.”
“Regardless of specifics, you
lied,” Hiashi muttered vehemently. “Yet another strike against you.”
Yakusho was suddenly aware that he
was being judged, and judged poorly. The eyes of all the elder shinobi,
especially those of the two Sannin, bore into him. The more they learned, he
supposed, the more they would want to see him dead. That didn’t matter,
however. This wasn’t all so he could feel better about himself. This was so the
truth could be heard.
Just maybe, someone could do
something about it.
“I find that an acceptable way of
looking at things,” Konoha’s infamous prisoner responded. “Either way, I’m not
finished yet, so if you’d let me continue, that would help a lot.”
Hiashi restrained himself, his
eyes darting swiftly towards his eldest daughter before returning to Yakusho.
There was bad blood between the head of the Hyuuga clan and the miscreant
survivor of the Ryumoto, blood that would require more than information and
apologies to purify. That was not Yakusho’s concern at the moment. More likely
it would end up never being his concern.
Yakusho cleared his throat and
continued. “After meeting me, Kakeru set me out to find other talented young
people such as myself to further his goals. The Earth Country alone provided
him with more than enough followers to set his plans into motion. He raised us,
protected us, and taught us how to tap in to our skills…preparing us for the day
when his dreams…our dreams…would finally be realized.”
“And what dream would that be?”
Tsunade asked, leaning forward on the front of her desk ever so slightly.
“The same dream Kakeru had even
before I was born,” Yakusho said. “The resurrection of the Black Dragon King.”
What followed were not the gasps
of shock that the trapped raconteur had expected. Instead there was a cold
silence that rippled across his skin and gave him goose bumps. The adults
looked at him as though he were clearly insane, or rather that he was trying to
deceive them. Hiashi’s empty eyes stared at him perhaps the most brutally, as
if by looking harder enough they could kill the boy where he stood.
“What’s a Dragon King?” Sakura
asked, looking towards her Master for guidance.
“They’re things written about in
legend,” Hinata spoke up, her voice oddly strong and confident. “There are
plenty of books about them all over the Hyuuga compound library…some of them
bedtime stories for little children.”
“Children’s stories?” Naruto’s
head swerved toward Yakusho in confusion. “Did you hit your head or something?”
“I can assure you I haven’t,”
Yakusho growled, tapping his forearm angrily. “Perhaps you should ask
White-Eyes about what she knows.”
Naruto turned sideways and looked
at his girlfriend contemplatively, forcing the dying question onto her
shoulders. Hinata shrugged uncomfortably, shifting her weight back and forth as
she balanced her words before she spoke them.
“Um…well, according to what I’ve
read, it’s said that the Dragon Kings ruled the world long ago, before humans
even existed.” Hinata blushed slightly as the room’s attention transferred to
her. “When humans arrived and developed the ability to harness chakra, the
Dragon Kings and their kind became split on what to do. Some wanted to
relinquish their rule over the world and live peaceful lives, while others
wanted to continue ruling and treat humans like insects.”
“So what happened?” Sakura was
quite taken by the story, teetering on the balls of her feet like a tiny
schoolchild as she waited for the rest. Yakusho had to stifle a bemused laugh
as he watched and listened.
“There was a great war,” Hinata
murmured. “In the end, the dragons that wanted to live peaceful lives were the
ones that won…but they realized that there would be no serenity on Earth as
long as dragons existed. So…they gave the humans knowledge of the draconic
ways, and taught people how to seal away dragonkind forever. That’s how the
story ends, at least.”
“That’s it?” Naruto grumbled,
scratching the side of his head. “What the hell does that have to do with all
this? What’re you trying to tell us, Yakusho?”
“What he’s trying to tell you,”
Jiraiya sighed, shoving himself off of one of Tsunade’s bookcases, “is that the
story you just heard isn’t a fable. It’s the real deal.”
“Excuse me?” Naruto felt insulted,
his face twisting angrily. “You’re trying to tell me that fairy tales are real
all of a sudden?”
“N-Naruto-kun,” Hinata blushed. “I
think Jiraiya-sama is trying to tell you that it isn’t just a kids’ story.”
“But then that means that dragons
are real!” Sakura scoffed. “And they aren’t!”
“Then how do you explain me,
exactly?” Yakusho scowled. The complete dismissal of his heritage bothered him
immensely, and despite many years of training he was failing miserably at concealing
it.
“G-gomen, Yakusho!” Sakura yelped,
her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean it like that…”
“Getting back to the point,”
Tsunade sneered, quite upset at the rabble that had consumed her office.
“You’re saying Kakeru wants to bring back the Black Dragon King?”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Yakusho
confirmed, nodding his head slightly. “He wants the power of an entire race of
dragons at his disposal…the type of power that could annihilate an entire
country in a day.”
Yakusho’s gentle delivery somehow
only strengthened the shock that swept over the assembly, sending eight pairs
of eyes wide open. There was a loud crack
as chunks of Tsunade’s desk snapped off in her hands, hundreds of tiny
splinters raining down on the wooden floor.
“A-an entire country!?” she
snarled. “E-Even the Kyuubi only had enough power to take down entire villages
at a time…are you trying to say that a Dragon King is more powerful than the
Kyuubi!?”
“At least five times as powerful,”
Yakusho said bluntly. “These things ruled the world once, you know. It
shouldn’t be all that surprising.”
Naruto tuned out Yakusho’s voice,
focusing solely on the red essence inside his own body. There was truth in the
words, one that made the Kyuubi chortled with twisted glee. Naruto could feel
the exhilaration and apprehension that the Demon Fox guarded from the others.
Those feelings mingled all too fluidly with Naruto’s intentions, distorting his
perception. Though he was scared, at the same moment he felt energetic and
lightheaded. He knew he should have been terrified of the thought, but the
Kyuubi found a hidden challenge in the Dragon King’s apparent strength and
thusly so did Naruto.
Amidst the sea of conflict going
on inside the unruly blond, a single thought bloomed. Against the darkness it
grew and blossomed, forming words on Naruto’s lips as he returned his attention
to the room.
“Why would you work for a man like
that?” he said, directing himself towards Yakusho. “How could you help someone
whose only goal was to bring suffering and death into the world?”
Yakusho did not make any sign of
being affected by Naruto’s question, nor did he make any sort of attempt to
respond. He stood there for several uneasy moments, fighting a losing battle
from within. He tried to speak, but could not find anything to say. Seconds
passed before he finally realized what he wanted to convey, and did so with his
eyes gently shut.
“When you’ve wandered the world
without any hopes, with no dreams and with no future…maybe then you’ll
understand the answer to your own question.”
Somehow, Naruto knew that those
words would haunt him for years to come.
“Enough,” Tsunade sighed. “We’re
getting away from the point. Now that you’ve explained that, I need to know why
he came after Naruto and Hinata. Why does Kakeru need the Kyuubi?”
Yakusho flicked his wrist at the
Hokage dismissively, letting out a goaded sigh. “I’m not saying anything yet.
We had a deal, and you’re not holding up your end.”
Tsunade frowned angrily, stepping
up off her desk. “Just who the hell do you think you are?”
“The one calling the shots, it
would seem,” the cocky young man sniped. “As I said at the beginning, we’re one
short. I’m not telling you anything else until he’s here. He’s a part of this
too, and we’ll need him.”
“I told you that can’t be helped.”
“Well I don’t care!” Yakusho
snapped, narrowing his eyes crossly. “Where is he? Where’s Jiyumaru?”
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Jiyumaru hated that damned heart
monitor. He wanted to smash it with his bare fist and drag the pieces across
the world, to be thrown into the darkest depths he could find. Its incessant,
regular chime made his blood boil, a never-ending beacon of his worthless,
continuing existence. What he wouldn’t do to end the pointless reminder of his
vitality, the fact that he could keep on living. He hated it. He wanted it to
stop.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
“Shut up!” he screamed. “Shut the
hell up!”
“Jiyumaru!” Ayame whimpered at the
foot of his bed, standing up to place a reassuring hand on his forehead.
“Please Jiyumaru, try and rest.”
“I will not rest!” he cried, his arm flailing aimlessly towards the
machine. “It won’t stop mocking me. Tell it to stop!”
“It’s just a machine,” she tried
to explain. “It’s not mocking you.”
“Then why won’t it leave me
alone?”
Ayame felt her heart break anew.
She was losing her ability to stay at his side with each passing moment, a fact
that neither she nor her past self were very proud of. She had always stuck to
the idea that withholding Jiyumaru’s memories was the right thing to do, that
it would have destroyed him to hold on to them. Now that she could see the
effect they were having on him, she wasn’t so sure. If he’d had all those years
to adapt, perhaps he would have gotten over it. Instead, because of her
selfishness – yes, she was not afraid to admit she’d been selfish – Jiyumaru
was in more pain that she had ever dreamt. To see the man she had grown up with
reduced to this state of paranoia and self-loathing was killing her.
A part of her almost thought she
shouldn’t have stopped him earlier.
The door opened suddenly, causing
Ayame to leap with fright. They had been alone for so long that the intrusion
had truly scared her. Her spirits lightened the moment she turned around to see
Naruto, Sakura and Hinata slip into the room.
“Naruto-kun!” Ayame smiled. “I’m…I’m
so glad to see you!”
“It’s good to see you too,
Ayame-chan,” Naruto replied, trying to be as civil as possible. “I...nobody
told us what had happened. We would have come sooner if…”
“It’s okay!” Ayame waved her arms
frantically before taking Naruto’s hand on hers. “What’s important is that
you’re here. Jiyumaru needs all the friends he can get right now.”
“Well then he probably won’t be
happy to see me.”
Ayame grit her teeth as she
finally noticed the Ryumoto boy standing in the doorway, as though he had
materialized from thin air. All of her happy thoughts dissipated like mist as
she drank in his slightly disheveled form, swallowing back the bile that rose
in her throat. She had read the report almost fifty times by now, the one that
told her how the Blood Seal had weakened.
That damned picture.
This kid.
“YOU BASTARD!” Ayame shrieked,
lunging forward and delivering a sharp punch to Yakusho’s jaw. He was caught
completely off-guard, leaving no time for him to defend against the
ex-kunoichi’s blow. He reeled backward, smacking into the wall as Ayame tried
desperately to claw through Naruto and Sakura, who were currently holding her
back.
“I hate being right all the time,”
Yakusho griped, rubbing his sore face.
“Animal! Monster!” the distraught
ramen girl howled, her eyes watering. “This is all your fault! You did this to
him! If it weren’t for you…Jiyumaru…Jiyumaru would be…”
“Ayame, that’s enough.”
The fight left Ayame’s eyes
immediately upon hearing Jiyumaru’s voice. After a moment she let her emotions relent
and pulled herself free, walking over to the bedside with a meek smile.
“J-Jiyumaru…”
“You’re scaring them,” he said
dryly. “Besides, you can’t blame Yakusho for this…it would have happened sooner
or later.”
Instead of being relieved, as she
might have been under normal circumstances, Ayame was both incensed and afraid.
Her lip trembled in time with her hand, fingers curling into an unsteady fist
as she held back the screech building within her.
“B-But he…if he hadn’t taken that
picture from me…”
“The fact that the picture existed
was enough for the possibility to occur,” Jiyumaru continued, his voice eerily
pragmatic. “Furthermore, for the person who wanted me to forget the most, you
sure did a bad job of making sure I couldn’t remember. You shouldn’t hang on so
tightly to your past…you were shinobi once, you should know that.”
“That’s not fair, Jiyumaru!”
Hinata squeaked. It was the first time indignation had swelled within her, and
her voice had not yet adapted.
“Fair?” Jiyumaru laughed, gripping
his bed sheets tightly. “Who said anything about this was fair? I dare you to
come closer to me and talk about fair!”
Hinata recoiled, biting her lip.
The others, for lack of any other feasible reaction, stared in mute horror.
This man could not have been the ANBU Jounin they had once known. Jiyumaru was
kind. Jiyumaru was thoughtful. Jiyumaru was friendly. He was not hardheaded,
tactless and abrasive. Yet all three of his antonyms had become him, which was
enough to cause even greater concern to well up within Naruto.
“What the hell happened to you?”
he asked bluntly.
“How much has Tsunade-sama told
you?” Jiyumaru responded sullenly.
“Not enough, apparently.” Yakusho
returned to the inner circle, rubbing his jaw and eyeing Ayame warily. He was
not in the mood to be struck again.
“She said that something happened
in your fight with Yakusho,” Sakura explained. “After that, you had to go
through some sort of ritual, and it left you in the hospital. She wouldn’t tell
us anything more.”
Jiyumaru sat back in his bed and
looked at the ceiling contemplatively. For several moments as the clock ticked
by, he made no communication other than listless sighs. When finally his will
had returned, he looked squarely at his compatriots, his face missing its
trademark gentleness.
“The reason I’m in here is because
of apparent ‘mental trauma’,” he said starkly, as if he were trying to shake it
off with a good laugh. “They like to say that I suffered some damage, and that
I need to be monitored…but the real reason is that they’re just scared of me
going psychotic and trying to rip out my lungs, like I did right after the
ceremony.”
Naruto’s latest breath became
stuck in his throat, causing him to cough in sheer disbelief. Hinata felt the
earth move beneath her, her knees weakening for a moment. Sakura caught her,
holding on to the shorter girl to keep them both standing. Yakusho remained
stoic, staring down Jiyumaru’s words with intensity.
“All of their euphemisms and
procedures can’t hide the cold dark truth though,” Jiyumaru muttered bitterly.
“I’m a murderer…a murderer that doesn’t deserve the life he’s living. The more
they try to keep me alive, the more of an affront it is!”
“Stop it Jiyumaru, please!” Ayame
begged, grabbing his wrist. The elite shinobi simply threw her embrace off,
rubbing his lower arm as if it had been burned.
“For once, just be quiet Ayame,”
he snarled. “You’ve done enough already.”
The wheat-haired girl bit her lip,
quivering as she forced herself away from Jiyumaru’s side. Both Sakura and
Hinata felt resentment building up within themselves, but whatever they were
going to say was silenced by the terminal feeling that swelled up within the
small room.
“I’m not a shinobi any longer,”
Jiyumaru said, slamming his fist on his headboard. “I’m nothing more than a killer…and
I’ll never forgive myself for it.”
“Jiyumaru, stop it!” Ayame begged
once more, clasping her hands together. “You’re not a murderer…you aren’t!”
“That’s easy for you to say!” he
snapped. “You didn’t kill Yoshiro…I did!”
Ayame bit her lip, tears crawling
out of her eyes. The others could not fathom the pain that those words and the
memories associated with them brought to the fair-skinned woman. With much
agony, Ayame dragged her face away from Jiyumaru, biting back her sobs once
again.
“I didn’t realize all it took to
turn the great Takaibattou into a sniveling coward was a simple picture.”
To say that the entire room
recoiled in sheer distress would have been a gross understatement. The amount
of shock generated from Yakusho’s second attempt at conversation was
indescribable, causing an intense trembling feeling to squirm about the
collected people there. Though the statement sickened everyone, none of the
other visitors said a word.
“What did you say?” Jiyumaru
seethed.
“Would you like me to repeat
myself?” Yakusho asked.
Before another word could be said
between the two, Ayame forced everyone out of the room. Those assembled offered
no resistance as they were ushered back into the hallway, watching as the frail
serving girl closed the door to her friend’s room tightly.
“Please, stop it!” Ayame begged.
“Just…leave and don’t come back.”
“Who is Yoshiro?” Naruto asked,
completely ignoring Ayame’s pleas. “Why is Jiyumaru doing this to himself?”
It took a moment for the
distraught woman to pull herself together. Her anger fell away to sadness once
again, a lump forming in her throat as she tried to explain.
“Jiyumaru’s memories were sealed
for this very reason,” she began. “When…when they chose to do it, I was the
only other person they could ask. You see…the clan doesn’t force the seal on
its kind…but Jiyumaru was too unstable to consign to anything. So…I told them
it was what he’d want. But really…it was what I wanted. I allowed this to
happen to Jiyumaru…it’s all my fault.”
“Ayame, please,” Sakura implored.
“Who is Yoshiro?”
“Yoshiro…w-was our third
teammate,” Ayame confessed, her voice choking up. “A-and…J-Jiyumaru’s
b-b-brother…”
Hinata and Sakura practically
screamed. Both girls clapped their hands over their mouths to keep the sound
from escaping, while Naruto took a single step backward to prevent himself from
collapsing.
Invisibly, Yakusho clenched his
fists so tightly he drew blood.
“Wh-what?!” Naruto babbled.
“H-He…he killed his own brother!?”
Ayame threw her face downward,
letting small trickles of saline trail down her cheeks. “It was…when they were
both young, r-right after the mission where I lost my ability to be a
kunoichi.” Ayame’s left leg fidgeted in response, responding to the painful
recollection. “Both of them v-vowed they would n-never let something like that
happen again…th-they both blamed themselves…especially Y-Yoshiro ‘c-cause he…”
Ayame cried, sinking to her knees
and hugging herself tightly. She had tried so hard to forget those days, to
forget the pain that came with them. But unlike Jiyumaru, she had never been
able to do so. She would not have allowed herself to forget. Over time, that
picture had been her saving grace, the only piece of evidence that her past had
ever truly been.
She was starting to hate it and
herself.
Sakura leaned forward and stroked
Ayame’s shoulder, trying to calm her down. It took several minutes before Ayame
was relaxed enough to continue, rising to her feet once more and wiping the
tears from her eyes.
“Th-the two of them started
training day in and day out to master the Kenshin clan’s secret summoning
technique,” she sniffled. “Wh-when Jiyumaru finally managed to use it…he
couldn’t control it. Th-the jutsu went haywire and k-killed Yoshiro right in
front of Jiyumaru’s eyes.”
Ayame finally broke down, unable
to control her sorrow any longer. Hinata and Sakura held her up as she tried to
collapse, her voice reduced to nothing more than incomparable sobs. Naruto had
bit his lip tightly, fighting back the words that wanted to come out. What did
words matter here? Naruto could never understand how Jiyumaru or Ayame felt, no
matter how much he tried. Losing someone close to you was different than having
killed that person yourself. Though there were times Naruto was afraid he would
have to experience that exact thing, he had so far avoided that terrible fate.
So he remained silent as his teammate and girlfriend helped the hysterical girl
to her feet.
“So what you’re saying is you’re
both cowards, then?”
Naruto spun around so fast he
almost didn’t stop. Ayame’s crying stopped abruptly, the flow of tears stemmed
out of sheer, incomprehensible amazement. Sakura and Hinata also found
themselves fumbling over Yakusho’s newest outburst, not quite able to place any
form of discipline to it. It was truly one of the harshest, coldest things they
had ever heard in their lives as shinobi.
“Wh-what d-did you just say!?”
Ayame churned.
“You heard me quite clearly,”
Yakusho sighed, rubbing the side of his head. “At least you’re more open about
it than he is. Whatever…this mission doesn’t need crybabies. I’ll find someone
else.”
Yakusho turned on his heels and
walked down the hall, leaving the others behind in the wake of his vicious
words. As soon as he had turned the corner, Sakura bolted after him, skidding
across the floor as she tried to round the bend fast enough to catch up to him.
“Wh-what the hell was that about?”
Hinata whimpered.
“I don’t know,” Naruto sighed.
“But I don’t think he quite meant it the way it came out.”
“Whatever the reason, I don’t
think Ayame appreciated it.”
Naruto nodded and helped Hinata
pull the distraught waitress up. Quietly they returned her to Jiyumaru’s side
inside the hospital room before leaving the two former teammates alone. Hinata
suggested that they chase after Sakura and Yakusho, but Naruto told her that it
would be a bad idea, especially considering the fervor with which Sakura had
chased the brunet. Interfering with what was most likely to happen was only apt
to get them both killed. With very little else to do, Hinata suggested they should
collect some dinner. The pale-eyed girl found no objections and dragged her
lover out of the hospital by the arm.
All the while, Ayame stared up at
Jiyumaru’s half-broken eyes, searching for answers she could not hope to get on
her own. He looked back at her with a feeble smile, letting drowned laughter
slip out of him from time to time.
“So…I guess I’m a coward.”
Ayame cried even harder than
before.
Sakura rounded the bend far more
quickly than she had intended. Her muscles ached violently as she braced
herself against the marble floor, trying not to overshoot her target. She
grunted as she finally stopped, using all the built up force to shoot herself
down the next corridor. She passed Yakusho with alarming quickness, cutting off
what she interpreted as his escape, panting hard.
“Just where the hell do you think
you’re going!?” she barked.
“Back to my room,” he sighed.
“Tsunade still isn’t letting me out of her sight for very long…and since most
of the town has probably heard of what I did by now, it certainly wouldn’t be a good idea to go wandering around.”
“That’s not the point at all!”
Sakura shook her head tightly, her eyes biting back their own tears. “How can
you say things like that to Jiyumaru and Ayame! Don’t you care about their pain
at all? Isn’t Jiyumaru your friend?!”
“That’s precisely why I said what
I did.”
Sakura didn’t know how to react.
She continued to block off Yakusho’s exit, but wasn’t precisely sure why she
was doing it anymore. Part of her didn’t trust Yakusho at his word, but another
part of her knew she could. The young ninja shook his head, giving off a sigh.
“I understand fully well that
Jiyumaru is in pain,” Yakusho tried to explain. “But that doesn’t excuse the
way he’s acting. He needs to wake up and realize that he’s not doing himself or
anyone else any favors by acting like he doesn’t deserve to live.”
“That’s easy for you to say!”
Sakura bellowed. “You aren’t suffering like he is! You have no idea the kind of
pain he’s going through!”
Yakusho’s grabbed Sakura by her
chin forcefully, pressing her up against the nearby wall. The pinkette cried
out in surprise, struggling only lightly as the angered shinobi glared at her
through incensed hazel.
“Don’t you ever tell me I don’t understand that kind of pain!” he fumed. “I
watched my entire life go up in flames. I have robbed people of their happiness
and family. So don’t you even begin
to think I don’t get it. Is that understood!?”
Sakura quivered, realizing he was
holding her several inches off the ground. He released her shortly, breathing
deeply to regain his temper. Sakura could not say she was scared of him, but
that she was more or less wary. She had not expected him to respond the way he
did after the words he had spared Jiyumaru. The medic rubbed her sore jaw a few
times before speaking up.
“I just don’t get you, you know
that?” Sakura straightened herself, throwing a fiercely resentful glare at
Yakusho. “If you understand what he’s going through, then why would you say
things like that?”
“Because where we’re going, we don’t
need someone who can’t let go of their past and live,” Yakusho snorted. “If
Jiyumaru is just going to cling to his sorrow and cry, then he’s useless to
us…and to everyone else. The sooner he understands that, the sooner he can help
us again.”
Yakusho made to leave, but instead
stopped mid-stride, turning to look Sakura dead in the eyes. “I can’t trust
anyone who’s weak with this mission. Are you strong, Pinkie?”
Sakura bit her lip and nodded,
finding it impossible to say anything else. Yakusho chuckled softly and nodded,
shifting his weight once more as he moved down the long passage.
“Good,” he said. “Don’t disappoint
me, all right?”
Sakura still hadn’t thought of
anything to say by the time he had vanished from her sight, leaving her
standing all alone amongst the alabaster scenery.
Shadows danced an elaborate tango
as the wilting torches sputtered against their fading existence, casting futile
rays of light in an attempt to thwart the encroaching darkness. They would
eventually fail the only task they had been charged with, and subsequently they
would be replaced with brighter, more prominent individuals, until the cycle
repeated and those newer ones would need to be exchanged. All the while, the
stone walkways and chambers that the dying lights had sworn to protect cared
nothing of the plight of the defenders, absorbing the coldness of the dark
without fear.
A lone figure treaded the sacred
grounds, his young footsteps disturbing light layers of dust. The ancient
structure he traversed crumbled ever so slightly at his presence, denoting its
age. It would last for many centuries more before people would have to be
concerned about it collapsing, at which time most of humanity would have
forgotten its purpose to begin with.
Those that knew of its existence
in the first place were hard to come by as it was.
The red-haired boy came into a
grand antechamber, kept bright by the radiance of what seemed like a hundred
torches, all burning up what little was left of their life. In the center was a
grand altar, where prayers and rituals had been held back before the shrine had
lost its importance. Above that altar, up several granite steps, was a
makeshift throne made entirely of perfectly carved rock. The young shinobi
guessed that the throne had symbolic meaning, but he knew very little of the
village’s history. All that he knew was second-hand knowledge, none of which he
was entirely sure he could trust.
Sitting atop the ornate chair was
a tall man, burdened by many years of toil. He looked no older than twenty-six,
but the younger male knew quite well that his years exceeded that. His long
ebony hair trailed just past his shoulders, his bangs an arcing mess that tried
very hard to not obscure his vision. Well-toned muscles and broad shoulders
were covered in the same coal-black ensemble he had worn almost every day of
his life, the trappings of his title. They were tight to his frame but not
constricting, giving him freedom to move about as he pleased. About his wrists
were very large silver bracelets, engraved with twisting black patterns that
meant nothing. The showy accessories belied their importance and true use,
something of which the teenager was glad he had only had to witness once.
It was not a fond memory.
“What is it, Yoshi?” the
dark-clothed male grumbled. His voice was deep and grating, a bestial
scratching that clawed away at the young ninja’s senses. “I assume you have
news if you’re disturbing me during my meditation.”
The redhead had no real way to
tell if his master was meditating or not, but he had learned long ago to never
question the dark-haired man.
“Kakeru-sama,” Yoshi spoke, his
voice pale and unwavering, “Akuchi has not reported as scheduled.”
“Really?” Ryumoto Kakeru laughed.
“That’s probably because he’s dead.”
“H-how did you…?”
“I know because I pay attention,
Yoshi,” Kakeru sneered, his face curving into a sadistic mockery of a grin. “I
never actually expected Yakusho to leave Konohagakure. Though I can’t really
say why he hasn’t, I had a feeling that he wouldn’t.”
“Then what does that mean?” Yoshi
was visibly perturbed, his nervous twitch of scratching his wrist sticking out
like lamp in the middle of a dark cavern. “What has become of Yakusho then? His
importance to your plan?”
Kakeru rose from the granite
throne, letting a single finger linger on his chin in a contemplative gesture.
“If I had to wager a guess, that would make him an enemy.”
Yoshi did not answer at first,
taking an extra moment to choose his words carefully before making his thoughts
known. “How can you be certain of this, Kakeru-sama?”
The shadowy man reached out with
his hand, causing the young shinobi to flinch ever so slightly. Instead of
striking the boy, however, Kakeru simply patted his head and let out a fatherly
chuckle, moving past his loyal subject.
“I am certain because I have been
keeping my eyes open, Yoshi,” he stated plainly. “All it took to realize what
would happen was to pay attention. All of the facts have been pointing to this
for a while now…that, and I know Yakusho very, very well.”
“Then what is the plan?” Yoshi
asked cautiously.
“The plan, my dear Yoshi, is to
sit and wait. Eventually, they will come to us.”
“Then what?”
“Then?” Kakeru allowed his twisted
grin to mutate even further, until he looked subhuman. “Then we strike!”
Well I want to apologize
for taking so long with the chapter. Things are finally clearing up for me, so
I have free time…but I keep using it for things other than writing. Hopefully
I’ll get the next chapter out more quickly.
Visit the Dragonheart
forums: “dragonheartonline. freeforums. org” Just fix the spaces!
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