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ᗰOᑎᔕTEᖇ	By : Sessakag Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female > Naruto/Hinata Views: 44706 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 23
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Chapter Twenty-Four
Desert Nightmare

April 8, 2010

“You think I’m losing it, don’t you?”
Sakura looked up from her mug.
The distraught woman seated at her kitchen table waited in stony silence for her response. Weary, bloodshot eyes burrowed into hers. The shimmering cerulean depths almost accusatory as a fresh bout of moisture gathered.
“I don’t think you’re losing it,” Sakura denied, returning her friend’s gaze with a gentle one of her own, “but maybe you could use a break from all this.”
Ino shook her head, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Dressed in a pair of Sakura’s pajamas, the weepy blonde looked haggard but a sight better than the hysterical scantily clad woman that had initially beat down her door an hour before sunrise.
Ino’s flight of terror in nothing more than a tank and panties had left the medical nin shocked and deeply concerned. Coupled with her staunch refusal to believe her nightmare had been naught but a horrible dream concocted by her stressed mind, Sakura had already made up her mind own to speak to Kakashi-sensei at the first opportunity. She understood her friend’s work was important, perhaps invaluable, but she wouldn’t stand by and let her destroy herself over it. Ino needed time to heal her own mental space before she probed around in the murk of someone else’s. This assignment had taken its toll on the psyche kunoichi from the beginning, but ever since her involuntary purging incident three days ago, her mental health had been in a downward spiral.
Ino swiped a trembling hand over damp eyes, a small sniffle following.
Despite her assurance to the contrary, Sakura did think her best friend was losing it.
After tonight, she would even go as far to say she had already lost it.
“I don’t need a break,” Ino refuted, “I know what I saw. What I heard. It was 2:14 and my door creaked. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was a premonition. If I had stayed there, if I hadn’t run when I did…it would have happened. I would have died.”
Sakura sighed, turning her distressed gaze back to the hot liquid in her cup. She ran her spoon around the inner rim of her mug, watching the dark whirls twist and coil as she contemplated a response. She didn’t want to sound dismissive. Or upset her friend more than she was at the moment, but she refused to feed the hysteria.
“Ino,” she began, “You know I wouldn’t lie just to make you feel better but it was well past two when you got here. Look out the window if you can’t take my word for it.”
The window closest to her little dining area was alight by the rays of early morning sun. Beyond the glass, the sounds of a village preparing for another day.
“Sunrise is around 7 am and you were pounding on the door an hour before that.”
The battering blows to her front door had startled the sluggish pinkette. In the middle of brewing life saving coffee, Ino’s desperate pleas from outside had woken up her tired brain faster and more efficiently than any caffeinated drink could ever hope to.
She gentled her next words even more.
“Ino, it was just a nightmare, a horrible, horrible, nightmare. With everything that’s been happening, with the Jubokko and your assignment, its only natural that your mind would revisit the most stressful things in your life right now. You’ve told me about the things you see in there, and I can definitely understand why it would terrorize you when you sleep. It would keep even the bravest up at night.”
And she did understand.
She had expected something of this nature to happen.
Frightening nightmares.
Ino’s response and intensity to the terrifying dreams, however, was not.
“Ino-”
“I know what I saw.” Ino insisted, “and I’m not crazy.”
The disheveled Yamanaka leaned forward in her chair, damp eyes glinting with vehemence and panic.
“She knows me,” she whispered across the expanse of the table, “She knows my name. She followed me. And last night…”
Her breath hitched.
“She tried to…take me with her…she…she was wearing his face and…”
Sakura stood as Ino dissolved into tears. Sliding into the chair next to the distraught blonde, she reached for her hand.
“Ino, listen to me, I know you’re not crazy but you need a break,” Sakura reiterated firmly, giving the chilly hand beneath hers a empathetic squeeze, “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. You can’t continue on like this.”
She dipped her head, determined green eyes seeking distressed blue.
“Look at me, Ino.”
She waited as her friend struggled for control, holding her next words until she had the other woman’s attention. Several minutes of sniffling and tear wiping passed before she was ready.
“I’m taking off today,” Sakura announced, “and so are you. We’re going to stay here at my house until you feel better, and when you do, we’re going to go talk to Kakashi-sensei. Okay?”
Ino’s lips trembled, tears swimming in her eyes.
“Okay?” Sakura repeated.
She nodded her head for emphasis, relief washing over her as her friend copied the gesture.
“Okay.” Ino whispered before breaking into another round of sobs.
This time, Sakura wrapped an arm around her trembling form, drawing her into the cradle of her bosom for the comfort they both so desperately needed.
xxxxxx
A harsh gust of wind swept across the desert plane, whipping up blistering swirl of burning sand in its wake.
Shino flicked grit from his sunglasses as the sandy air blew by. Swaddled in a gray coat far thinner than his preference, the insect incubating shinobi peered out into the golden wasteland. There was no sign of the scouting arthropods he’d dispatched an hour ago and the droves of bugs crawling along his skin were growing increasingly agitated.
A silent exhalation of aggravation left his his lips as he mopped sweat from his forehead.
The Desert of No Return was a small slice of hell.
Torrid heat.
Dry stagnant air.
Scorching sand.
And a fervid sun blazing with the intensity of an erupting volcano.
It was an unbearable combination.
An oppressive inferno threatening to torch the flesh from his bones.
A torturous oven that was slowly eroding his notoriously mild disposition. Six hours in and he was more irritated than he could ever recall being on a mission. His patience quickly becoming frayed beneath the blistering rays of the desert sun.
He was uncertain if his irritability was the result of the sulfurous environment or something else.
No stranger to hot weather and thick clothing, he had always had a very high tolerance for trench coats in temperatures seen most often in summer. But in this desolate land, even his bugs were uncomfortable. They were restless, crawling over his skin in pinpricks of agitation. Leaving the confines of his jacket for the blistering sand below despite his call for their return. Odd behavior he’d never witnessed before. Stationed just beyond the area deemed hospitable by the Kazekage, everything beyond his current position was uncharted territory, a point of no return some claimed and after hours of traversing nothing but searing grit he’d come to a realization.
There was something amiss in the Desert of No Return.
Outside of its inhospitable terrain was an unexplained phenomenon engulfing the forbidden land. One he hadn’t noticed until he was miles from the official boarder separating this dangerous territory and the nearest village. The signs of abnormality materializing in the form of a silent disturbance.
An undercurrent of sound.
Some sort of vibration muted to his human ears.
A hum.
The noise was well above his hearing range, but not beyond the detection of his insects…
Insect that were becoming increasingly erratic the deeper he delved into the desert.
The frequency was intensifying. It’s effects, not only interfering with his connection with his multi-legged friends, but wearing on him as well. Along side his irritability was another whisper of seduction. A rising need to throw caution to the wind and run heedlessly into the desert. The desire in stark contrast to his more thoughtful, cautious nature.
He wanted to venture deeper into the inferno that was the Desert of No Return.
Felt drawn to wander further than the confirmed point of safety.
He wasn’t a reckless shinobi, he left that to the likes of Naruto and Kiba, but he was finding it hard to remain in his place of relative safety. A few times he’d caught himself moving forward. His feet carrying him towards the unsettling sea of sand absent of his brain’s dictation.
The involuntary movement was an enormous red flag.
Whatever was disrupting his insects was effecting him too. Gradually, but far swifter than he was comfortable with.
He needed to pull out.
To recount his findings to both the Kazekage and Hokage, but he wanted the report from his insects. It would help gauge how far his bugs could travel before his control of their behaviors waned completely. With that information, he could begin the process of breeding a new species of arthropods that could withstand the adverse effects of the vibrations. Effects that were rapidly intensifying with each passing second. His insects ability of discernment had always been an invaluable asset, but in this place, that advantage had become a glaring detriment.
Thousands of tiny pinpricks scuttled over and through his pores as he trekked through burning sand.
He would need to weed out that extra sense.
His feet carried him up and over a small dune, heated grit sliding into his sandals and between his toes.
Or at least dim it as much as he could…
Once he got a little deeper into the desert he could…
He came to an abrupt stop, goosebumps pebbling his flesh.
Shino turned, shaded eyes tracing his footprints several meters from his original position. He swiped moisture from his forehead, struggling to organize his thoughts.
Struggling to remember why his mindless travel was disturbing. Why the distance between him and the designated safe point made his stomach clench. His insects shifted, retreating inside of his body. Dashing for the space the back of jacket provided, fleeing from the front of his body in droves.
His gaze swung back to the unexplored depths of the desert.
His brows furrowed, eyes narrowing behind the darkness of his lenses.
Two dark specks appeared just on the horizon.
They weren’t his insects.
The silhouettes seemed humanoid in shape. On the right, a tall, willowy form, and on the left, a being small enough to resemble a child. Based on the intel from Suna, this desert was prohibited to unauthorized personnel. An authorization the Kazekage had granted to Shino alone. There shouldn’t be anyone in this wasteland but him.
He squinted.
Was it a mirage?
An adversary?
His mission was purely investigatory, strict orders of reconnaissance. Engaging in a battle in another nation’s territory was hardly appropriate etiquette, especially in light of the tenuous peace treaty following the war, but he had his suspicions that anyone traveling this desert would turn out to be more than a lost villager in need of directions.
He sent a non-verbal command to his insects, putting them on notice. While he felt their cooperative impulse in return, their compliance was slow.
Reluctant.
He switch his focus back to the obscure clusters, a chill crawling up his spine when he could only make out the childlike stature.
The tall shape had vanished.
An indistinguishable scent filled his nostrils.
Exotic and unplaceable.
Alien to anything his senses had ever encountered.
An attractive odor that filled him with the deepest of dread. Warmth bloomed at his back, telegraphing the presence of another living being.
The hair at his nape stood on end.
His bugs swarmed to the front of his coat, abandoning the previous safety of his spine. Sprinting across his skin, their frenzied, pointy feet translating their upset. He was moving a second later, putting distance between himself and the figure at his back. Retreating several feet from the newcomer and lifting shrewd brown eyes to the interloper.
He recoiled.
Frigid fingers of horror trailing his spine.
His world narrowed, then went mute.
Shino felt neither the burning heat of the desert, nor the frenzied pinpricks of his fleeing insects.
Time slowed.
Awareness dimmed.
And his entire focus shifted to the extraterrestrial in front of him.
He felt out of touch with the physical world. Disconnected in a way that was maddening. Detached to his very core. Locked in a dreamland in which only he and the terrifying alien existed.
The being in front of him was beautiful.
Delicate.
The sharp symmetry of its masculine features painful to behold.
Too painful for his throbbing eyes to discern.
Desperate to ease the swiftly deepening ache, his eyes sought relief, moving of their own accord to the radiating lines carved into its flesh.
Vivid chartreuse etchings weaved an intricate, geometric pattern along his pale skin. The hard angles softened by rounded curves. The glowing green engravings began at the very center of his forehead, stretched vertically across his eyelids, skirted the curves of his cheeks, traced the squareness of his jaw, flowed down either sides of his neck, before disappearing below the neckline of his silvery robes.
The neatly drawn lines brighten, dimmed before brightening again.
A slow, hypnotic pulsation.
One that drew his gaze back to the painful features…
He was beautiful…
Alien…
Horrifying…
Run!
His mind cried.
Flee!
His body bellowed.
He could obey neither.
He was trapped.
Rooted to the floor in abject terror. Pinned beneath the creature’s silent regard. A monstrous creature who’s eyes were…
Were…
A current of power washed over his skin, the jarring current drilling into his bones. His teeth clenched as an unvarnished ache joined the painful pounding of his heart. Reality narrowed as its pale lips parted.
A breath…
A soft, melodious, exhalation whispered between them…
And his world imploded.
Words, an ungodly cadence of speech relayed in a brutal tongue his human brain could scarcely comprehend, filled the confines of mind. A sensation comparable to a vat of acid being poured through his eardrums.
Mind numbing agony slammed through the echo chambers of his psyche. The exquisite sounds ripping and tearing at the fabric of his very core. It was the greatest of torments, the very epitome of pain. A new level of anguish the like of which he’d never conceived. His screams were muted to his own ears, the noise in his head muffling the cries of acute agony erupting from his esophagus.
He gripped his pounding cranium, wilting beneath the mental onslaught of the soul shattering syllables coming from a being who hadn’t yet uttered a word.
He stumbled across the sand, away from the alien, slinging insects from his writhing form as his body twisted and contorted.
Warm copper filled his mouth, the taste of his own blood sliding along his tongue.
It hurt.
His blood felt acidic, burning the soft skin of his inner cheeks.
Eating away at the gums between his teeth.
He choked.
Gagging on the liquid.
His wheezing cough splattering golden sand with bright red droplets.
A painful vice gripped his chest, squeezing his ribs with near bone snapping pressure. He struggled to draw air into lungs that seemed littered with holes.
His breath hitched and exhaled on a wail of agony.
Trembling fingers clawed at a skull that felt seconds from explosion. The action compounding to the thundering cries of his insides. He gnashed bloody teeth, swallowing another shriek of pain, fighting to gain control of the misery chipping away his sanity.
It was like fighting the very power of a raging tsunami.
A battle that was short lived.
A fresh wave of trauma swept his writhing form. Worse than before. Crashing through his body with punishing force. Every nerve ending felt stabbed through with a serrated blade tipped in molten lava.
He hurt in places that didn’t exist.
Agonized in places that did.
His very being transforming into a cauldron of unspeakable hell, consuming the entirety of his body from the pounding of his brain down to the very tips of his fingernails.
It was excruciating.
Grueling.
Far beyond the limits any human was meant to bear.
He felt ready to die.
Ready to tear his own head from his shoulders if it would stop the pain.
And beneath the vast abyss of misery the whispers continued.
Torturous murmurs of foreign horrors spoken in amused cruelty.
Carving away at the insides of his brain.
The grit beneath his feet gave way. Scorching sand flooded his sandals.
Collected around his ankles…
Climbed above his knees…
He was sinking.
Slowly being sucked beneath blistering sand.
It was a horrible reality tugging at the fringes of his awareness, incapable of piercing the excruciating torment of his world. The gravity of tawny grit engulfing his waist paling in comparison to the blades of glass shredding apart his insides.
His tortured mind unable to spare a moment of fear when it reached his chest.
He was locked in a world of hurt.
Forgoing the physical reality of his situation.
More horrified by the voice hacking away at his brain than the scorching sands closing over his head.
xxxxxx
“I’m not going away where with you.” Hinata declared, ignoring his outstretched hand.
He was even more delusional than she thought if he truly entertained for a second that she would ever willingly go anywhere with him.
“Why are the Otsutsuki here?” she asked instead, “What are they planning?”
Arctic eyes closed, a small smile curling his lips as he returned his arm to his side.
He pivoted with a small sigh, wandering over to the shatter remnants of a floor to ceiling window.
She tensed, watching his retreating form with shrewd eyes.
“Kaguya alone was enough to bring the shinobi world to its knees,” she pointed out, “A group of Otsutsuki with half her strength could easily bring it to an end. So why haven’t they?”
Especially now, when the shinobi world was still in recovery following the war. There was something bigger at play.
They were bidding their time.
But why?
A beat of silence lapsed.
Her pupiless gaze burrowed into his still form.
Waiting.
Outlined by the sparse light streaming through broken glass, his robed figure appeared sinister among the shadows of the room.
“Aren’t you the least bit curious about my truth?” he asked.
Of course she was, but if learning it meant she had to go anywhere with him, then he could keep his revelations. She suspected the two coincided, his ‘truth’ and the machinations of the Otsutsuki. Given a choice, she would rather know more about the latter than the former. The plans of the Otsutsuki were more important than his interpretation of ‘truth’.
“If it means leaving with you, then I am unwilling to hear your truth, Toneri-san,” she answered, “As I’ve said, I am not leaving here with you.”
He turned, gleaming eyes assessing.
“An explanation would merely upset you,” he murmured, “It is better for you to see rather than hear.”
His casual words left her stomach knotted with anxiety.
“Then you will have to risk my upset because it’s the only way I’ll learn of your ‘truth’.”
His face softened with amusement.
“In the time we spent together, I was as struck by the gentleness of your eyes as I was the sweetness of your nature,” he commented, “Little did I know, the soft spoken beauty harbored a stubborn streak. I find this hidden facet of you personality quite fascinating, Hinata.”
She frowned, uncomfortable with the tenor of his compliment.
Creeped out by the relish with which he spoke her name.
His caressing tone was indicative of an intimacy they certainly didn’t share. Uncomfortably reminiscent of the loving undertone reserved for her Jinchuuriki lover. Uninterested in dignifying his one sided affection with a response, she reached instead for the safety of interrogation.
“If you won’t explain this ‘truth’, then tell me about the Otsutsuki. Why are they here? Are they responsible for Jubokko attacks?”
His lips curled.
“Stubborn.” he chuckled, “Very well. I will answer a few of your questions before we depart.”
“Why are the Otsutsuki here?”
“Unfortunately, that is not a question I am willing to answer.”
Undeterred, she posed another inquiry.
“Are the Otsutsuki behind the Jubokko?”
“Alas, another avenue that leads nowhere.”
She frowned.
“What about the weather abnormalities?”
“Ah, one I can answer. The tears between your reality and another are not apart of our machinations. The Otsutsuki that I follow have no hand in that.”
“But you know what’s causing it.”
“Of course,” he confirmed, “However, of that I am not able to speak. Sasuke Uchiha has already provided you the means to discern the ‘who’ and ‘why’ regarding the abnormalities.”
Her stomach dropped.
She knew the “who” he was talking about. The deity described in the Otsutsuki text. A being she had held out hope was only mere legend.
“The device Sasuke-kun found, inside was a collection of information. Stories about Cyilo. The very first Otsutsuki according to the doctrine. They speak of him as God.”
“He was looked upon as a God,” he affirmed, “in his time.”
A sliver of hope flared.
“In his time,” she repeated, “Does that mean he no longer lives?”
“He is very much alive.”
Icy dread settled over her skin.
“Alive?”
“Much like Kaguya, Cyilo was sealed.”
Was sealed.
Past tense.
“Kaguya managed to free herself. Does that mean Cyilo has too?”
“I would refer you to my previous response. The answers you seek are within the tale of my Clan’s origins. Words gleaned only through the eyes of the Byakugan.”
“Why were you in the village?” she asked, “Why pose as my father’s business client?”
His silver head tilted.
“I wanted to see you. To meet the woman once destined to be mine.”
Her brows furrowed. His casual declaration raising a flare of alarm.
He was out of his mind.
Demented and delusional.
He wandered towards her, his slow gait graceful.
Menacing.
She tensed, raising her hands in muted warning.
“It was a concession,” he told her, “a gift from Momoshiki-sama in place of the happy marriage I had given up.”
He stopped paces in front of her, meeting her suspicious regard.
“A chance to experience a brief slice of the life we would have shared,” he continued, “Smart, beautiful, gentle. You were everything I imagine and everything I had not. It pained me to give up the marriage promised to me. Our union would have been nothing short of perfection.”
A burning intensity parted the wistful gleam of his eyes.
“For a number of years, I’ve watched you, dreamed of the day we would become husband and wife…So perhaps you can understand my ire when a certain blonde haired idiot drew your attention.”
His calm, lamenting demeanor diminished in the face of a perceived slight.
He was angry.
Stewing in jealousy he had no right to feel, his piercing stare stoking an undercurrent of unease.
“From afar, in my lonely castle on the moon, your shy affinity for the Jinchuuriki was irritating. Infuriating on occasion. But after we met and I witnessed it with my own eyes, it was intolerable,” his lips turned down, “It was a betrayal, Hinata.”
A chill swept her spine.
“A betrayal of the destiny we shared.”
Disturbed, Hinata stiffened her stance, ready to defend herself if he so much as breathed wrong. He was dangerous to her in a way she had never encountered. Openly living in a fantasy world she had no interest in being apart of.
“To watch a woman of your stature,” he continued, “yearn for the affection of that blonde imbecile was despicable.”
Her own anger was swift. His offensive characterization of her lover stiffening her spine with affront.
“My boyfriend,” she stressed with mounting outrage, “is a man of honor and intelligence. A man of worth. He’s worked hard for everything he’s ever accomplished, and I count myself lucky that a man of his stature would look twice at someone like me. I don’t care what you think we were supposed to have been to each other, I won’t stand here and let you bad mouth Naruto-kun.”
He blinked.
Extinguishing the volatility in an instant before returning to his cool facade of polite solicitation.
“Women are such strange creatures,” he declared with a rueful shake of his head, “but a woman of loyalty, even if it is misplaced, is admirable.”
His pale face grew sad. The placid smoothness of his expression morphing into one of regret. A transformation that left her cautiously hopeful that perhaps he could be steered from his unholy alliance with his alien relations.
“What I would not have given to have you feel those things for me.”
Reigning in her outburst of pique, she shifted the conversation in a different direction.
“Toneri-san, whatever the Otsutsuki are planning, whatever their intention for coming to this planet are, you don’t have to be apart of it,” she reasoned, “you’re a descendant of the Otsutsuki but you’re human too. It’s not too late to turn back. You don’t have to do any of this. You can help us stop them.”
“Forgive me, Hinata,” he murmured, “but it is out of my hands. Giving you up was not my choice, nor is it easy to endure, but my needs and wants cannot take precedence over what is right. This path I take is for the betterment of my Clan, and in turn, the betterment of humanity. I regret that the coming changes may hurt you, but I can at least give you this assurance. Your friends and family need not be harmed. Obey the Otsutsuki and they will have little to fear at our hands.”
Her small glimmer of optimism faded.
She hadn’t fully expected him to cease his activities and dissolve his alliance with the powerful Otsutsuki Clan out of his warped conception of love or the tiny glimpse of humanity he had shown her…
But it had been worth a try.
“These changes will not touch you, however. You will be with me.”
She released a silent breath, her own resolve hardening. There would be no reasoning with him. No meeting of the minds between them.
He was determined to enact his plans.
To further the machinations of his alien Clan.
To label himself her enemy by word and action.
So be it.
“It is with great reluctance that I must end our conversation. There are things that await my attention and I cannot indulge myself with your presence much longer. In light of our previous engagement, in the interest of retaining our relationship, I would ask that you depart with me freely.”
Just below the shadowy hem of his robes, something slithered along the floor.
“We need not engage in battle.” he continued.
Something fleshy pink and spindly.
“There is no reason for us to fight.”
Her narrowed gaze moved to the waving growths at his feet. A sliver of unease unfurled within the confines of her stomach.
“I am not here to hurt you,” he told her, “nor do I wish to do so, but when I leave here, it will be with you at my side.”
Lilac orbs whipped to cool blue.
“I hope that you will make this easy for us both, and come to me without incident.”
He reached out, mirroring his earlier entreaty.
Waxen hand outstretched in exhortation.
Coaxing her to accept his plan of abduction.
To go willingly into the care of a madman.
Her gaze burrowed into his as blood vessels rose beneath the delicate porcelain of her skin. The trade mark veins of the Byakugan slowly stretching along the corners of fiercely defiant eyes.
Spurning his coercive gesture.
A silent rejection of his request.
He retracted his hand with a long sigh. His exhale and slight pout reminiscent of an exasperated parent dealing with a wayward child.
“You wish to fight.”
She would have to.
She wasn’t going to make this easy for him and had no intention of going quietly.
He would have to drag her kicking and screaming.
Dark brows furrowed.
She recognized Toneri’s handiwork from the time she’d spent negotiating a partnership on behalf of her father. This was another of his puppets.
A puppet he could manipulate on a level most puppeteers merely dreamed of.
One that appeared to be embedded with the Tenseigan.
She wasn’t sure if his dojutsu’s abilities extended to this puppet.
Could he channel the Tenseigan’s power and utilize its ocular power through this wooden host?
Or were the Tenseigan he’d shown her a mere replica of the real thing?
Were they functional?
And if they were, to what extent?
She didn’t know.
The complexity of his puppet manipulation, the skill and uniqueness with which he crafted the life sized marionettes was what had initially drawn the attention of the Hyuuga. During their previous interludes, Toneri had been unwilling to divulge details regarding the unusual intricacy of his puppetry nor had he revealed his techniques.
She was going in blind, so to speak.
“If that is truly your wish,” he continued, “then I will oblige.”
Real or not, even without the added threat of ocular prowess, she knew the man made ninja replica would be challenging for her alone despite the added boost Hamura’s chakra gave her.
She drew in a silent breath, tamping down on the worry fluttering in her belly. Drawing on the nerves of steel every shinobi of worth strove to develop. The will to carry through the mission despite gut churning fear. A familiar calm bloomed, replacing that queasy sensation with one of stone cold resolve.
She would have to stand her ground long enough to create an opening and regroup with her backup at first opportunity.
She peered through the walls of the castle.
Sou was the closest, two levels directly above while Eiko was mucking around in the very bowels of the building.
She exhaled slowly before dropping into the familiar stance of the Gentle Fist.
His eyes closed.
Her attention zeroed in on a sphere of chakra blooming in the center of his forehead.
“Though I will confess that I am disappointed.”
His eyes reopened.
“I will try not to be too rough.”
Those ominous words were the only warning she received.
The weaving growths beneath his robes shot forward, their thin tips sharpened to a fine point. Hinata shifted, ducking between the striking lengths and cleaving through those she couldn’t. They reminded her of chunky tree roots. Their texture and composition was strange, however. They were thick, spongy and slimy, yet brittle when cut. Thin puffs of dust followed the breakage, showering the bedroom in a tan haze.
He shot across the room in a burst of speed, whipping through the powdery debris.
She ducked beneath his swinging arm before redirecting the momentum of her body. She rose, driving her chakra cloaked hand towards his chest.
He deflected the blow with a forearm, knocking her arm away in the process.
She swung her other, meeting the same, strong armed swat. Undeterred, she pressed for offense, engaging him in a furious exchange of hands. Driving him backward with each strike and settling into a elegant dance of violence.
She kept her attacks tight and quick, her aggressive tenor a stark contrast to his deflective one.
He was holding back.
Returning her strikes with heavy reluctance.
There was movement at her back.
She spun, cleaving through the pink appendages behind before pivoting to fend off his incoming swing.
It caught her a bit off guard.
There was nothing reluctant about this blow.
It was heavy, and packed with enough power to send her sliding backwards. Hinata dug into the confines of her ninja pouch as her feet scrapped across the hardwood floor. She tossed an explosive tag wrapped around a kunai a moment before her back met the solid weight of a nearby dresser
His silver head shifted slightly, and the glinting blade whizzed over his shoulder.
Embedding itself in the ceiling.
Hinata shot forward, hands cloaked in chakra.
His eyes illuminated an eerie silver a moment before a powerful force slammed into her. The unseen repulsion knocked her off her feet and into the waiting grasp of the pink growths behind her. They slapped closed, ensnaring her within a sticky cocoon and squeezing a shriek of pain from her lips.
His grip was tight, crushing.
Driving air from her lungs.
Flailing inside the bruising vice, Hinata struggled for breath.
The unyielding snare moved, dragging her towards the waiting puppet.
Bringing her face to face with her would be captor.
She dangled several feet from the floor and mere inches from his face.
“I apologize for your discomfort, Hinata,” he murmured, “Once we return to base, you will be secured in more comfortable means, so please bear it for now.”
She winced, breath hitching as she redirected the flow of her chakra.
He frowned.
“I don’t like to see you in pain,” he told her, “but the more you struggle, the harder it will get breathe.”
True to his word, the protrusions tightened, wringing another squeak from the bound Hyuuga.
His frown deepened.
“Perhaps it would be better for you to sleep while we travel, though I had hoped to converse while we did so.”
He moved…
And so did she.
She reared back before jerking forward, slamming her forehead against his, knocking the shocked puppet back with the force of her headbutt. It was a less than graceful move she’d learned from her significant other, and while her head wasn’t nearly as hard as Naruto’s, it gave her more than enough time to make her move.
Chakra flared through the tenketsu of her body, blasting the extensions apart.
She leapt over the staggering puppet and sprinted in the direction of her kunai.
Forming the snake hand seal as she dashed across the room.
The explosive tag detonated, blowing a chunk in the ceiling.
Smoke erupted, the walls shook and Hinata sprang through the impromptu opening, shielding her face with forearm as bits of debris pebbled her skin. She cleared the smoky cloud, and landed on her feet inside the castle’s grand hall. The charred remains of two winding staircases sat in ruin at her back. Long hallways cluttered with broken stone and scorched walls stood on either side of her and at her front, a monstrously tall window loomed. The dirty glass was littered with cracks but had somehow remained intact.
She shifted abruptly, just managing to miss the high-speed strike that emerged from the smoke laden depths she’d vacated.
The sharpened length scraped her neck, before shattering the cracked windowpanes at her back. She barely hard time to slap a hand over the burning tear in her skin before the next volley of strikes erupted.
Hinata sprang into motion, flipping hand over head.
Surging forward and back.
Right and left.
Dodging and weaving around the fat growths impaling the floor beneath her feet.
Hardwood splintered and broke.
The castle rocked on its foundation.
She leapt atop a rickety piece of the stair’s banister, then jump atop the pink length that shot in her direction. It slammed into the spot she’d just abandon, burrowing through to the other side at a slant. Hinata slid down the growth, her sandalled feet acting as a skateboard as she glided down the appendage. She vaulted to another mid-way, sparing only a brief moment on the wiggling tentacle before throwing the full brunt of her body weight into another jump. Cleaving a path through the wiggling roots, Hinata darted through the shattered window and into the courtyard. Outside was a reflection of the dilapidated castle. Stray piles of cement and stone, torn from the exterior of the once dazzling palace, rested atop charred, broken pavement while an artificial ball of light struggled to illuminate the lazily circulating rocks floating along the sickly yellow sky.
Hinata landed on a single knee, peering up at the empty frame of the great window.
Warm, crimson liquid slid down the column of her neck.
She grimaced, brow furrowing at the viciousness of the burning throb.
Toneri floated through the billowing smoke seeping from the tall entryway. A long dark crack pierced the perfection of the puppet’s carefully carved visage, stretching from beneath the locks on his forehead, over his left eye and down his cheek. The plastic eye hung out of its socket, a sight that was gruesome despite the lack of flesh and blood.
The macabre cosmetics was of little interest to the eagle eyed kunoichi.
It was that speck of chakra between his eyes that held her focus.
The sphere of coiled, shifting energy that was now flickering.
“Hinata,” he called down to her, “Watching you fight with such elegance and skill has always been a delight and yet even in this, that yellow haired disgrace has managed to spread his taint.”
She was even less interested in his insulting words, her attention shifting instead to the moving figures tearing into the great hall behind him.
Toneri sidestepped the swing of Sou’s mallet before blocking Eiko’s stone pillars with a wall of glistening pink roots. Sou was on him a second later, hammering through his shield and following the snowy figure as it hurtled across the courtyard.
Eiko landed next to her.
“You okay?” the masked female asked, “You’re bleeding pretty bad.”
Hinata reached up, pressing her palm against the wound. The glowing green of the shōsen jutsu emerged. She winced as the medical ninjutsu stemmed the flow.
“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch.” she replied.
It was much deeper than a scratch. There was a hefty amount of blood soaked into the sparse material of her mission gear top and the piercing ache bespoke of more damage than a glancing scrape.
But it was also nowhere near life threatening and thus, unimportant within their current circumstances.
Eiko nodded, then moved on to another inquiry.
“Know anything about this guy?”
“Toneri Otsutsuki,” Hinata answered, “he posed as my father’s business client a few months ago. He’s the last survivor of the Otsutsuki branch family settled on the moon by Hamura. The Tenseigan was absorbed by one of the Otsutsuki and compressed into a pair of eyes for him.”
Hinata stood, turning her gaze to the two men trading blows.
“That’s one of Toneri’s puppets, but it has the power to utilize the abilities of the Tenseigan, to what extent, I’m not sure. He used repulsive force to knock me off my feet earlier in the fight but he went back to relying on those growths immediately after.”
“He may not be able to use it fully then.”
“Or he may just be choosing not to,” Hinata mulled, “he…has some sort of weird…affection for me. When we fought hand to hand, he held back and despite this scratch, he hasn’t gone for anything vital. His plan is to kidnap me and show me ‘the truth’.”
“Any idea what he means by that?”
Hinata shook her head.
“There’s a collection of chakra in the middle of his forehead. Its a bit different than the rest of the chakra strands animating his body. I think disrupting it might cut off some of Toneri’s control.”
“Got it,” Eiko said, “We’ll create an opening.”
Sou careened back to earth between them, kicking up rubble and dust. Inside the crater his body created, the masked Anbu lay sprawled, his mallet clutched in his meaty fist.
“Sou.” Eiko called to the fallen nin.
Sou grunted in acknowledgement from his hole.
“We need an opening. Forehead’s the target. Got that?”
He grunted again before picking himself up. He dusted off his silvery weapon, hefted it over his shoulder and launched upward. He was met with a spray of cone shaped projectiles the size and density of large boulders. Sou swung the heavy weight of his sledge in a wide circle, increasing the momentum of his spin with a burst of chakra. Hard metal collided with the thick wedges, blowing the cones into a hail of shrapnel.
The two women parted when the pink chunks careened their way. Hinata vaulted backwards, finding cover atop a cluster of stone while Eiko retreated to a clearing covered in brittle grass.
Free of the hailstorm he’d created, the dog masked Anbu transitioned, morphing his defensive whirl into an offensive launch. He hurtled towards the puppet with the speed of a missile, his oversized mallet battering the wall of growths Toneri erected.
“Get ready.”Eiko warned the pale Hyuuga.
The wall gave beneath the force of his strike, crumbling in a blast of dust as Sou drove his mallet through the pink columns and into the puppet. Eiko crouched, her hands forming quick seals before slapping them to the ground at their feet.
“Earth style: Great Yawning Maw.”
Hinata weaved, windmilling for balance when the earth lurched, then quaked.
Toneri hurtled to earth.
Ripples ruptured the ground beneath him, and in the darkness of a wide, gaping fissure, a mountain of earth rose. Shaped in the likeness of a snapping turtle’s mouth, the creature replica welcomed the puppet’s body. Swallowing the falling male with a thunderous snap of its jaws. Landing on the broken remnants of the broken courtyard wall, Sou sucked in a breath before exhaling a geyser of water.
The blue wave swept the base of the dirt mound wrapped around Toneri, transforming dirt into heavy mud.
Hinata was moving before the first tentacle broke through the mound.
Chakra roared to life around her fists, the combination of hers and that of her ancestor Hamura giving her once cerulean guardian lion shrouds a glowing purple hue. Byakugan locked on the target trapped within the rapidly muddying collection of dirt, Hinata sprinted towards the trapped puppet.
Sou directed his spray to the cracks, working to keep Toneri trapped in the sludge.
With a running leap, Hinata darted for the very center of the earth prison.
“Hakke Sōjishi Hōgeki!”
She drove her fists into the mud, blasting apart soaked dirt. Tunneling through muck to the area directly in front of the deep crack splitting the forehead of Toneri’s puppet. A muted explosion followed, contained within the mud. The ground below gave a quiet cough, hazy smoke billowing from the tinny fissures her attack created. She peered within the collision of her hands and that small coil of chakra.
It flashed brightly, flickered then began to fade.
The chakra strings animating its body snapped and the puppet abruptly sagged. She paused, buried to the shoulder in dark muck, watching for slightest movement. Or the very hint of chakra.
There was none.
“I think he’s down.” she called to her teammates.
Sou cut off his stream and Eiko slowly parted the mud.
Hinata retreated a small distance the moment her arms were free. Sou dropped next to her as the puppet emerged.
It crashed to the ground, a lifeless doll.
Seconds later, it cracked. The carefully carved structure crumbling in a puff of tan dust.
xxxxxx
“It is done.”
Toneri pressed a hand to his throbbing eyes, gnashing his teeth when a fresh surge of agony lashed his brain. Controlling a puppet infused with the chakra of the flesh tree was a tedious, delicate, excruciating endeavour. One that tempted him to rip his eyes from their socket. He sucked in a harsh breath, reaching out for the cool support of a nearby wall while a second wave exploded deep in his ocular cavities. His jaw ached, and the loud grinding of his teeth hurt his ears.
And yet, in the grand scheme of a bigger plot, it was a small price to pay for the furtherance of their hefty ambitions.
They’d gained much in that battle.
Had finally laid down the bricks of a sturdy foundation and sown the seed of their salvation.
“You certainly took your time,” Toriyama mocked at his side, “have a nice chat with your ex-fiancee? Should we inform Toju-sama that the nuptials are back on?”
Irritation joined the pounding torment behind his eyelids. Shoving his agony into the furthest recesses of his consciousness, Toneri straightened. Dropping his hand from her eyes, but opting to leave the aching orbs closed.
“Aah, rejected again?” the other male taunted when the puppeteer ignored him, “The poised and dapper Otsutsuki spurned in favor of the uncouth imbecilic blonde. How painful.”
The broken dream of marriage was still a sore subject, despite his contentment with the objectives that had taken its place.
Toneri had grown up with the promise of her hand in matrimony. Observing her day to day life throughout his youth leaving him infatuated long before the two had met. Their destined union and the sweetness of her companionship a beacon of light within his lonely existence after the passing of his father. In the brief time he’d spent posing as her business client, the desire to have her forever at his side had only deepened.
Experiences he wouldn’t trade for the world…
And yet, it made her rejection of him all the more painful.
Her adoration for the Uzumaki all the more nauseating.
His feelings for the beautiful Hyuuga heiress was a regular source of entertainment for the body snatching Otsutsuki. A wound the sadistic alien exploited with glowing, malicious relish.
“Trying to convince her to return with you was a pathetic exercise in futility,” he goaded, “Didn’t I tell you once she started fucking that brat the last thing she would want is you sniffing around. Though I am a bit surprised.”
Toriyama chuckled.
“How enamoured with that Jinchuuriki your prim and proper princess must be to have raised her skirt for him so soon…and so often.”
Toneri let the words slip through one ear and out the other. He’d long since expelled the brunt of his rage, his hurt, in the privacy of his own space months ago, and each time Toriyama twisted the knife, it became easier to ignore.
He was well aware of the intimacy between Hinata and Naruto.
Had been for a while.
Even now, the burning embers of jealous hate flared to life when he thought of that smug waste of flesh touching the women he longed to possess. A hatred deepened by her actions during his anticipated reunion with her.
The meeting in which she had chosen to endure the pain of his rough handling rather than accept the hand he’d offered.
He was hurt.
Upset.
Infuriated…
He drew in a silent breath, striving for calm.
Despite her affection for that disdainful male…and her repudiation of Toneri’s affection, none of it had dimmed the torch he carried for Hinata Hyuuga.
None of it.
He knew she thought him insane.
Had seen the disbelief, the alarm on her pretty face.
And perhaps he was touched with madness.
And if he was, the company he kept was more than appropriate for he had yet to cross paths with an Otsutsuki that could claim sanity as an attribute.
In light of that fact, there was little reason to feed Toriyama’s hunger for the pain of another. His heartbreak over Hinata wasn’t something a monster like Toriyama could ever understand.
“Trying to take her with you was an idiotic desire anyway,” Toriyama continued, regaining Toneri’s attention, “her proximity to the Jinchuuriki is necessary now.”
A fact Toneri despised as well, and one he would not dignify with response for the benefit of Toriyama. Growing bored with the lack of response, Toriyama steered the conversation to a more important question.
“Were you able to inject enough of it in her blood stream?”
In this, Toneri was proud to answer.
“More than enough,” he confirmed before echoing his earlier decree, “It is done.”
“For all our sakes it better be.” Toriyama muttered.
“Momoshiki-sama has a guest we are to welcome in his stead. He may have already arrived.”
The annoyance at his side shuffled to the door.
Toneri followed, stepping through the common room door and falling back on his senses to lead him. A practice honed during his sightless years. He felt comfortable in the darkness, nostalgic as he tuned his ears to the world around him. Trailing after his prickly partner through the silent halls of the labs, Toneri counted steps in his head. Sensitive ears analyzing the varying intensity of the vibrations their foot falls created and using the information to discern not only their location, but their destination.
Navigating the twist and turns with the ease of familiarity, he recognized the sudden change of hardwood to tile.
They were moving towards the place she resided.
The observation room.
Unease settled in his stomach, the sensation at odds with the yearning filling his chest.
It was difficult to be around her.
The urge to join her in the pit of blood and death nearly overwhelming at times.
She terrified him…
Fascinated him…that waving tree of sticky flesh.
Metal doors slid open with a soft hiss.
Animalistic bellows of abject suffering filled the air.
“What is that ungodly racket?” Toneri barked as they stepped through the door.
Curious, Toneri opened his eyes.
Pain lashed his eyeballs, the throb from earlier returning with a vengeance. Slapping a hand over the aching spheres, he slammed his eyelids closed again.
“Toju-sama!” the male at his side exclaimed.
His blood ran cold.
Famed leader of his alien Clan. A mad dignitary only a few years younger than Cyilo himself. The leader he had been unauthorized to meet was in the room with him.
Struggling against the torment lifting his lids brought, Toneri peeked through his fingers.
The blurred image of a man emerged. Swathed in a coat too heavy for desert heat, the male lay writing in a pool of erratically scuttling insects. His hands clawed desperately at his ears and head, his cries of horrific agony deafening in a room that echoed.
Something moved.
This new, bleary figure cloaked in white.
The person was short and looked more like…
His brows furrowed.
A child?
The snowy youth moved closer to the writing male, arthropods parting as he neared. Toneri swallowed, a cold sweat beading his flesh. An unfamiliar scent reached his nose, one that tied his stomach into knots. Tension lined his shoulders and the urge to retreat pounded through his brain. The visceral, very human nature of fleeing danger foreign and uncomfortable. An insulting, despicable reaction inconsistent with the Otsutsuki clansman image he strove to present.
The hair at his nape stood on end.
Power, the likes he’d never felt filled the room.
His body felt heavy.
Weighted down beneath an energy that felt out of place in the natural flow of the universe. It was a horrendous sensation. Akin to being anchored beneath the ocean with a bag over his head.
He was drowning.
Suffocating.
Unable to pull his head above water or swim beneath its great pressure. Toneri grappled with himself.
Fighting the urge to add his screams to the room.
Seconds away from tearing his own hair out just to feel something.
Anything other than the unbearable weight of madness…
He locked his muscles, struggling to remain on his feet as the invisible cloak was whipped away. Redirected at a speed that left him nauseous and weak in the knees.
It gathered.
Collected and condensed in the vicinity of the child.
Multihued light flickered.
Twisting, sculpting in front of the pale youth.
Dread filled his chest, the shinobi’s screaming, coupled with the intensity radiating from the shifting prism of color setting him one edge.
He felt trapped in his body.
Ill at ease in his own skin.
He squinted, his horrendously throbbing eyes fighting to make out the strange shape.
It hovered, spinning slowly.
The odd object resembled an icosahedron.
Round and pointy.
In the time it took him to blink, it transformed, morphing into the shape of a spear and piercing the screaming man at the child’s feet.
The reverberating wails ended and the contorting, bug covered body stilled.
“Be silent.” the child murmured into the ensuing silence.
Air left his lungs in a quiet hush.
A breath he hadn’t know he’d been holding.
Toneri felt lightheaded.
Terrified.
Intrigued…
“H-Honorable One,” Toriyama sputtered, “Why have you left safe haven? The Uchiha is adequate in exterminating Cyilo’s scouts but he has not dispatched them all! If they pick up your trail of power, Cyilo will…”
The child’s head moved.
Toneri couldn’t make out the expression the child gave the foul tempered body snatcher, but it was enough to quell his nervous rambling.
His head moved again.
And Toneri felt his lungs seize.
Dread crept back into his gut.
Blurry, glowing eyes stared back at him.
It was looking at him.
The child.
Honorable One.
He swallowed, transfixed by the gaze leveled his way. Unable to turn his eyes from the little being that was much more than it appeared.
“Toju-sama doesn’t like you yet.” the child announced.
Sweat slid down his spine. The flat tone wrapping around his throat. An undercurrent of power coating the words, squeezing his dry throat.
Cutting off the air his lungs refuse to bring in.
“He doesn’t want meet you.”
Toneri ground his teeth. Afraid to raise his hands to the invisible fingers slowly tightening his esophagus. He fought not to squirm as the bitter taste of terror coated his tongue. His mind sought distraction…
And found it.
There was someone else in the room.
A tall, willowy male.
He stood perfectly still, his back turned to the group.
Staring into the pit.
Into the place she lived…
Where she fed…
And screamed…
Sang…
“He doesn’t want to meet you.” the child repeated but this time, the nefarious words were whispered directly next to his ear.
There was someone…
Something at his back.
He could feel its blaring heat.
The skeletal prick of its fingers digging into his shoulders.
Its warm breath grating to his very bones. Painful in a way he couldn’t put into words. Across from him, the child appeared closer and yet, hadn’t moved. His lungs wailed for air, darkness lapping at his senses.
“He doesn’t like your thoughts. Your feelings. You love her, don’t you?” the voice at his ear and the child asked.
The hands at his neck squeezed.
“Even though she belongs to us, you love her still, didn’t you?” even with his limited vision, Toneri could see the childlike features had twisted in cruelty, “How can you love her if you love Toju-sama?”
He was closer…
The child.
Staring up at him with a face blurrier than it had been several feet away.
With features his struggling mind couldn’t make sense of.
Laughter erupted from the miniature Otsutsuki. An awful, booming sound that brought a deep throb of pain to his eardrums. His jaw clenched. Body shaking as he fought the urge to cover his ears.
Just as abruptly as the mirth began, it ended in a silence that was agonizingly painful.
The child’s face was leeched of emotion, of sanity.
Deadpan and wholly frightening.
“Toju-sama does not like you.” he repeated.
Toneri blinked and could breathe.
The child was back in his original position.
Far from the terrified puppeteer.
xxxxxx
Shikamaru rubbed his eyes, stifling a yawn.
Tucked behind his desk, the once lazy shinobi shuffled the through the pile of hand drawn symbols and tentative explanations. Trying his best to fit the alien pieces together. Just beyond his work station, a circle of Hyuuga sat crisscrossed in a plexiglass room. With their Byakugan’s activated, and the Otsutsuki technology aglow within the circle, the six men weaved and connected chakra lines only they could discern.
Their arms moved in a constant motion of fluidity.
Chakra laden fingertips directing the flow in areas that activated new deposits of information.
Information that was then passed to him and others of the intelligence department.
Shikamaru sighed, closing his eyes and letting his overtaxed cranium drop to the headrest of his chair.
His eyes ached.
His brain hurt.
And while they’d made significant headway, it wasn’t as fast as he or the Hokage would like.
There was so much they still didn’t know.
“We’ve unearthed another piece.”
Shikamaru straightened in seat, eyes opening to the sight of stern faced Hiashi standing in front of the hard oak of his desk.
“It is a bit clearer than than the last.”
That said, the no-nonsense Hyuuga leader turned and walked away. Shikamaru stood, following as the older male lead the way to the glassed room of the deciphering Hyuuga.
“Tokuma.” Hiashi prompted, the moment the door closed behind the group.
“’With your own eyes’,” Tokuma intoned, “ ‘read the tale of our Lord’s beginning’. The next part is described as a retelling of events by the being the Otsutsuki refer to as God.”
Shikamaru moved closer to the Hyuuga, ears poised to analyze the incoming reading.
“‘My existence began within a cluster of reality.
A time that is foggy and obscure to my memory.
As that great mass began to mold and coalesce, I too began to take shape.
I became cognizant.
And my awareness of time began.
Eons passed before I could move.
And even longer before I could see.
Then all at once, I became myself.
My eyes opened, my lungs expanded and the shifting void around me became whole.
We were born.
The world and I’.”
xxxxxx
April 9, 2010
“Just go talk to him.” a woman whispered.
“No way! You go talk to him!” another exclaimed.
“I did it last time!”
Tani rolled her eyes, biting back a huff of exasperation.
‘Here we go again.’ she complained to herself.
“That doesn’t count, he was leaving for a mission that day and didn’t really have time to talk.”
“Well I at least said hi, you haven’t even made eye contact with him.”
Tani glared in the direction of the girls, irritated that they were on the field again. Her sensei was often the center of admiration in the village, a fact that, unfortunately, carried over to the designated training areas. Three women stood a beneath the tree she currently occupied. Their bumbling, air-headed chatter irritating the green haired genin as she plucked the shuriken tossed during practice from the high branches of the sturdy tree.
“Just say hi and see if he wants to go out for coffee.” a chestnut haired woman prodded.
“I can’t do that! He’s already got a girlfriend.” squealed a blue maned female.
“Yeaaah, but she’s been gone a while. Men get lonely.” shrugged the midnight tressed ringleader.
“If you can’t talk to him,” chestnut suggested, “then at least give him the letter.”
Blue pressed tanned hands to her rosy red cheeks.
“Ahhh, you think I should?” she fretted, “what if he refuses to take it. Or gets mad. I’d simply die!”
“Geez,” midnight sighed, “you’re such worrywart. I’ll give him mine if you won’t then.”
Tani yanked the last blade free just as the leader of the pack turned brown orbs up to her.
“Hey, little girl,” she called up, waving a pink envelope, “could you give this to your sensei for me?”
Tani paused, honey eyes meeting three pairs below. She tucked the shuriken back into her ninja pack before turning a syrupy, sweet smile on the women.
She leapt from the tree, landing in front of the hopeful ladies.
“Sure,” Tani beamed, dusting dirt from her cerulean skirt and pink shirt, “No problem!”
The women smiled. Tani took the letter from the dark haired female before turning in the direction of her famous teacher. The sought after blonde was engrossed in a shuriken throwing lesson with Seinosuke. With a four prong blade in hand, he moved his arm forward and back, demonstrating proper throwing form to his mocha skinned pupil.
Tani sucked in a breath…
“Senseiiiiii!!” she chirped with a grin, waving the floral scented letter in the air, “You got another love letter from one of those groupie women. Should I throw this one in the trash too?!”
Naruto looked up from his shuriken instruction with a confused, inquiring expression on his face.
“Give me that!” the black haired woman growled, snatching the rose tinged envelope.
She glowered at the snickering genin before shoving the damning evidence in her pocket.
“Little brat!” she hissed before storming off, her giggling friends in tow.
Tani stuck her tongue out at the retreat females.
“Sheesh , and you guys call me the group prankster.” Sanzo muttered.
The older boy lay lounging on a branch in the tree Tani had vacated, arms behind his head, eyes closed in a pose of relaxation.
“It wasn’t a prank,” Tani insisted, bring her hands to her hips, “I was just looking out for our teacher. He’s got a lot on his plate and he doesn’t need desperate groupies to deal with too. Besides, Hinata-san isn’t here to take out the trash so someone else has to.”
“Who died and made you the relationship police?” he asked, moving to hang upside down from the branch.
Tani sent him a scathing glare.
“I’m not policing anything,” she dismissed, “Everybody knows Naruto-sensei and Hinata-san are crazy about each other. It’s not my fault that they can’t see how ridiculous they look. I mean, come on. Have you seen those two together? It’s…It’s…”
“Here we go,” he muttered with an eye-roll.
“Soooo romantic,” the starry-eyed nin gushed, “the village hero and the Hyuuga princess. It’s like Konoha’s very own fairy tale!”
Her teacher was over the heels for the soft spoken Hyuuga and she just as enamored with him. Despite her childhood crush on the town hero, she had to admit, if she could couldn’t have him, Hinata was the next best thing. The pretty Hyuuga was her idol, and the perfect combination of gentleness and poise for their brash sensei.
Tani found the pair unbearably sweet.
Something she wanted for herself when she was old enough.
“Pfft, more like the klutz and the princess.”
Honey orbs narrowed.
“You’re just jealous because Hinata-san wouldn’t look twice at your love letters if you ever got the guts to give them to her.”
“W-W-What?” he bumbled, “I-I don’t-”
“Oh really, then show me that notebook you’re always writing in. The one that always makes you blush.”
Sanzo tumbled from the tree in an undignified heap. The flustered genin was on his feet a moment later, glaring for all he was worth despite the heat in his cheeks.
“Sh-shut the hell up Tani! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” he barked at the giggling girl.
xxxxxx
“Keep your wrist loose and your eye on the target, ‘ttebayo,” Naruto instructed, “practice what I showed you while I go get Sanzo.”
Naruto turned his gaze in the direction of the raging boy.
He sighed, though the soft exhale lacked any real exasperation. It was amusing to watch the knuckled headed thirteen year old. Almost like taking a trip to his past self. Sanzo had his temperament, and teammates more than willing to poke at the undisciplined genin until he gave them the response they were looking for.
He shook his head.
If his assessment of his mischievous student was correct, then Sanzo had a long way to go.
He opened his mouth, the student in question name on the tip of his tongue when he stopped. Kurama shifted within the confines of his psyche. And without a word, Naruto slipped into senjutsu.
A current of chakra, faint, just outside his reach washed over him and the village.
His brow furrowed.
It was minuscule.
Whisper thin.
Something he would have thought he’d imagined had Kurama not confirmed what he was sensing. The strange pulsations had started yesterday evening and swept a wide berth at inconsistent intervals. He’d reported his findings to Kakashi-sensei, only to find the sensory nin on duty had already brought it to his attention.
What it was, no one seemed to have an answer.
Naruto perked up as another aura caught his notice.
Hinata.
He turned, gazing in the direction of the Hokage tower.
She was debriefing no doubt, and would be on her way home soon.
Anxiety he’d carried since the Anbu carted her off the other night, finally began to ease. He felt like he could actually breathe again.
‘You worry too much.’
Naruto pouted.
Maybe.
But he had more than enough reason to worry.
Relieved, excited, the whisker marked jonin straightened his shoulders. If he wanted to be there to greet her once she left the Hokage tower, he’d need to finish the training session with his team. Bringing two fingers to his mouth, Naruto let out a loud, whistle.
Seinosuke halted mid throw, and the two bickering genin ended their row.
“Alright guys, time to get your butts in gear,” he called out, “Seinosuke, Tani, let’s see those throwing techniques again. Sanzo, I wanna see if you’ve improved your aim.”
xxxxxx
She was sluggish as she climbed down the long decline of stone steps.
Raising a fist, she yawned.
He smiled, his heart turning over in his chest.
Pupiless, lilac eyes connected with his, and the lush curve of her lips turned up. Her steps quickened, livened as she made a beeline for him.
“I’m back.” she murmured when she reached him.
He grinned, taking the hands she stretched towards him.
“Welcome back.” he whispered a moment before their lips met.
It was as much a homecoming for him as it was for her. Almost as though he had been gone a while too. It was funny. When he returned from a mission, he had never felt that way. With his mind on his team, and the tasks set before him, time passed in the blink of an eye, leaving him little time to moon over their separation. Being the one who had to do the waiting this time was a different experience.
Her body fell into his, and he wrapped his arms around her.
“So tired,” she told his chest, “I can’t wait to get home.”
He detangled himself before turning his back and kneeling.
“Climb on,” he instructed, pointing to his back, “I’ll carry you back home.”
“I don’t want to get your gear dirty, Naruto-kun.”
“Don’t worry about, dattebayo, that what a washing machine is for.”
After a brief hesitation, she slid onto his back with a grateful sigh.
“Thank you, Naruto-kun.” she murmured with a soft nuzzle of his neck.
A caress that made his heart turn over.
Blonde brows creased when his hands made contact with her thighs.
Was it him or did her skin feel a bit warmer than normal?
“I guess its been a while since I’ve been on active duty,” she said next to his ear, “I was fine during the mission and okay on the trip home, but now that I’m home, I’m exhausted.”
He grinned.
“You’re out of shape,” he teased, “I told ya we shoulda trained more.”
Hinata giggled.
“I know, but you’ve always had more stamina than most people. How can I keep up with you?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” he agreed cheekily, “Even if you can’t keep up, I’m just glad you’re back and in one piece…”
He lapsed into silence, his smile slowly fading.
“There’s blood on your shirt.” he commented after a while.
Dried blood.
More than he was comfortable seeing.
Her cheek nuzzled his, a soothing caress to counter his upset.
“A scratch,” she replied softly, “all healed up and checked out by medical.”
“Hmm.” he hummed, a small frown tugging his lips.
“Not so bad considering what we were up against,” she continued, “Kakashi-sensei cleared me to talk about it with you.”
The downturn of his lips only deepened as she spoke in his ear about the mission she’d just returned from. By the time they reached his apartment his frown had transition into fierce scowl.
“I knew there was a reason I couldn’t stand that bastard,” he growled as the two plopped down on his couch, “Next time I see him…”
He slammed a fist into his open palm.
He was furious the uppity bastard had put his hands on her. That he’d drawn her blood in the process. And to add insult to injury, the psychotic pretty boy had a thing for Hinata that went well beyond the realm of sanity. Bad enough that he had had to watch the male making moves on Hinata before they’d become an item, but to learn the extent to which the puppeteer was obsessed with his girlfriend left him anticipating the showdown that was certainly in their future.
“The nerve of that guy…” he grumbled.
Her dark head shift, finding his shoulder.
“I’m more worried about Cyilo,” she admitted quietly, “if what Toneri claimed is true, he and the rest of the Otsutsuki are going to be the least of our worries.”
He peered down at her face, disliking the fear in her eyes.
“Hey,” he said, reaching to stroke back the silky black strands covering her cheek, “how about a shower? We can talk about it later.”
She sighed.
“I would love a shower right about now, but I’m just too sleepy to hold myself up.”
He raised a brow.
Hinata was funny about hygiene.
While he could tumble into bed straight from a mission, his lover was a bit more discerning. She hated going to bed without having had a hot show or bath before. A habit he’d adopted in deference to her. That she was willing to forego that ritual in favor of sleep only underscored her claim of exhaustion.
“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured as he stood, scooping her up after, “I’ll bath you, and you can lean on me.”
Minutes later, beneath the spray of the shower, Naruto ran a well lathered cloth over them both. He gave them each a thorough scrub, shifting Hinata against his chest to clean hard to reach places. She sighed several times beneath his hands, dozing once or twice as he cleaned. He’d just finished her hair when she moved. The soapy softness of her arms twined his neck and the even softer curves of her body plastered to his. A coil of desire unfurled in his abdomen while the simple joy of having her in his arms again flooded his chest.
“I’m so tired, Naruto-kuuuuuun.” she pouted.
He laughed.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he chortled, sliding his hands over her back, “almost done.”
He rinsed the suds from her hair, tracing her spine with wet hands. Her damp nose bumped his neck, before burrowing right below his ear.
She giggled.
“I think I’m going to be the one snoring tonight.”
He grinned.
“I’d like to see that,” Naruto said, reaching to turn the water off, “we’ll make it a contest, ‘ttebayo. First one to wake Kiba up wins.”
Her laughter filled the bathroom as he toweled her dry before swinging her up into his arms and carting her off to bed. Her eyes were barely open when he laid her on her preferred side of the mattress. After pulling the covers over her body, he trekked back into the bathroom, gathered the clothes and tossed them in the laundry basket near the door.
Naked as the day he was born, Naruto swept the apartment, shutting off lights and putting his breakfast plates in the dishwasher before returning to the bedroom.
She was asleep.
Nestled against the pillows, her breathing low and even.
Not a single snore.
He slipped into bed next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her smaller form into the crevice of his. He bent, pressing his lips to her forehead.
He pulled back abruptly.
Blonde brows furrowed in concern at the radiating heat emitting from her skin.
xxxxxx
Hello again. It’s been a rough few months but things are settling down now. All the high emotions and sad birthdays have passed and I’m feeling like I can enjoy writing again.
That said, how’d you like the chapter? I’m not all that great at writing Naruto fight scenes since this is my first time writing fanfic for the Naruto genre, so if you all have any tips I’d be happy to hear them.
I know you all will probably have questions about the Otsutsuki kid, about Shino and of course what’s been injected into Hinata. It’ll be explained just…not right now, so patience please XD
Secrets of the Hidden Leaf is going to be update next for those that read it, and after that, another chapter of Cold will be posted.
I’ll try to get them out as fast as I can but I don’t want to rush them and churn out crappy chapters so bear with me. Don’t forget to review if you enjoy the story!
Shortcake- I’m happy you enjoyed her breakdown! I worked hard to make it creepy. Thanks so much for the words of condolence and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.
That’s all for now. On to the next story.
I’ll see you all in the next chapter.
Laters
~Sessakag
- 23
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