InuYasha Fan Fiction / Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Her Presence ❯ Her Curse ( Chapter 3 )

~.^.~

The Sandaime inhaled a breath of his pipe before puffing it out, his Anbu should have escorted her here by now. He sighed as he placed his pipe down; if anyone could get sidetracked even with Anbu escort he wouldn't be the one to put it past her.

That woman could accomplish anything.

So when she arrived in the room, only the energy shifting as her presence materialized from whatever jutsu she used, with a few minutes to spare he was surprised.

“Wha-?”

“Afraid I am that I lost your Anbu guards along the way somewhere.” She shook her head in mirth. “To get here on time it was the only way. I'm delighted to find that your rookies are a spirited and promising bunch. I should have expected as much from the descendents of my people.”

The hokage grew grim; for her to bring up her people meant she had news, and with the circumstances such as they were it was usually bad. So he takes a deep breath and steeples his fingers under his chin to listen.

“I found it.”

He is still for a moment in shock.

Then: “Pardon?”

She chuckled, a musical sound like her accent and her voice. “I am afraid that I found it but it requires certain finesse.”

He sat back heavily in his chair, not reprimanding her for all the informality she used. After all, you were supposed to respect your elders.

“Finesse I don't have apparently?”

He watched her eyes lit up with mischief. “Oh- of course not. Team effort is what this needs. Unless you have what I hope you do. Trained have you?”

The Sandaime smiled and chuckled. “Yes I have. When you told me that the jutsus you were starting to uncover were out of my area of expertise… I decided to make it my area of expertise.”

She nodded her head forcefully once. “Good. The man subtly scorned becomes the man who achieves the skills.” The hokage laughed weakly as he noted the way her eyes crinkled into that all knowing grin she usually wore.

Then he paused; “Why in the world are you wearing that scarf?”

Her laughter filled the room, joyous and free and there. As she unwound the cloth from her head and neck she was still trilling out small giggles. “Ibiki-kun told me I stood out more than I needed to, and I told him that I would stand out for different reasons.”

Hokage smirked. “Leave it to Ibiki to make you change the way you dress.”

She glared and her cloak came off in a dramatic swirl of black and shadow. Her hair, bound up for her travels, was wound in loose hoops and twists, creating a rather elaborate do for any usual ninja or villager.

He sighed. “If any of the kunoichi see you now and find out you are a ninja they'll go crazy.”

She cocked one eyebrow before the slow grin came over her face. “I think they only believe I'm a diplomat or some other such thing.” She turned to face the wall of portraits but her eyes slid to his in a reproving manner. “Not that they helped, those two anbu guards with me.”

He grinned sheepishly. It always unnerved him when she chastised him; it was strangely reminiscent of his mother. “I didn't want you to get much sidetracked.”

She snorted. “Selfish child you are. I ran into your rookies.” The complete shift in topics left him floundering for a moment, but he recovered.

She did that to him a lot after all.

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm. Interesting bunch they are.”

He groaned. “What happened?”

She tapped a finger to her chin as she paced sedately. Her one hand holding the elbow of her raised one, her gaze drifted absently to the ceiling. It was an act, he knew that. “Well, there was the rather rude boy who called me an old biddy, then the pink-haired chit who took a curt tone with me…haven't you taught them to respect their elders, or at least those important diplomats with political asylum?...and the last boy, he almost raised his fist to me! Honestly Sarutobi-kun, what have you been teaching them? I know the females get their feminine training, but do the males get any diplomacy courses…and speaking of diplomacy and training…”

Sarutobi sighed wearily as his head slowly lowered to rest on his desk.

“…the females haven't incorporated it into their every day lives. I mean the boys! Good heavens and great depths of hell!” She paused to throw an impish smile at him before she continued her rant.

He caught it.

Thank Kami he caught it.

It meant she was only teasing him.

So he stopped her.

Not a very easy thing to do, so he had to have something equally startling to close her mouth yet not enough to kill her good mood. Kami knows she got into very few of those these years.

He sighed; the only way to do that was to bring up the tough subjects. So he did: “You found it.”

She paused in her teasing rant, holding her position in surprise perhaps, before she turned to him and sighed. The vibrant energy seeped out of her posture, leaving it the rigid stance of a jaded ninja. She sat down then, not waiting for an invitation to do so, and she smiled offhandedly.

“I have.”

“There is no doubt.”

“No doubt at all.”

He sighed and held out his hand. The scroll she gave him was small- deceptively so. For such an important document it wouldn't take a lot of work to pass over it as a simple food recipe or the like.

Slowly he checked the kanji; the writing was old and the ink was faded even as the scroll stayed firm and soft despite its yellowing of age. It had a preservation spell on it, he could tell as much. Way back when jutsu weren't as common true magic users spell caste to preserve the history of their villages and arts on these scrolls.

He could make out the spell work, the intricate weave of the powers that made this into a jutsu and not a simple witch's manipulation.

“Is this all?” This technique was surprisingly short…

“Only a release it is. They are usually short work. If they weren't then all the apprentices would have many accidents to tend to with and it would take a long time to clean up no?”

Sarutobi chuckled behind a raised hand, nodding his head in agreement. “Students do make their share of mistakes before they get the skills they will need for their path in life.”

She gave him a wry glance and a twist of her lips before she snickered. Nodding her head she stood. “I must see to Morino-kun. I believe I've been volunteered for a dinner attendance.”

Hokage laughed, standing to escort her to the door. His step faltered when his thoughts brought up a topic far-too sensitive. He continued determinedly. `I'll let her settle in before I throw out the chum.' So he opened the door, he could see his two Anbu guards that he had stationed at his door jump in surprise at the female coming out.

So they hadn't felt her come in. She'd gotten better.

The guards continued to stare, and Sarutobi had to take a second confused glance at what they were looking at.

He laughed.

She was wearing her traditional outfit, a rather dated ensemble that made her stand out…in a good way. With her elaborate hair and the rich colors adorning her layered fighting outfit she looked like a vengeful god, Sarutobi could see why the need to stare possessed his guards.

She glanced briefly at them before bowing slightly to him; he bowed deeply in return and grinned under his hat. `It was fun giving the Anbu a surprise every once in a while.'

~.^,~

The stars were going to stand out grandly tonight, of this Ibiki was sure. With her presence it would seem like the whole of nature would don celebratory colors and rejoice in her coming.

Ibiki smiled as she appeared beside him. He knew she'd come- just like she knew he'd be waiting.

She settled in beside him and he could faintly hear the soft rush of cloth against cloth. “Good to see you Kagome.” She chuckled, it was another one of the things they'd learned to do over their time together- only address her by name in private.

“Hokage had a good laugh, my expense it was, due to you.” She gave him a shrewd glance. “Where is this fair lady thou hast courted?”

Almost immediately after she finished speaking the distant call of his wife's soft voice broke into their conversation. The call to dinner was strong, as the ninja that had experienced hell always knew what it was like to miss a meal, or two, or three, or many.

She smiled wistfully with a dreamy glazed expression in her eyes. Ibiki couldn't figure out how such and earthly expression of desire turned her into a being of the ethereal planes. He shook his head.

“The best cooking your wife has.”

They entered the kitchen and settled down. Dinner was a quiet affair. They were just a trio of old friends basking in each other's presence and enjoying a good solid meal like they couldn't get on the road.

Ibiki knew Kagome always appreciated the meals- though he never found out why.

He guessed that age did that to people.

With a chuckle he watched the two women in his life gather the dishes and leftover rice. They'd be making onigiri tomorrow that was for certain. It made for a very domestic picture, and Ibiki always had to wonder why Kagome enjoyed doing the household chores with his wife while she was visiting.

He shrugged. No matter…

Kagome approached him and he could hear the sounds of his wife settling into the couch to read. He turned to her and watched as she got distracted every few feet by a flowering plant his wife had taken the liberty to set. `She always was so easily distracted….Maybe because she is so old, the smaller things catch her attention easier.'

She chuckled, bringing him out of his musings into the real world.

“Think I do that you worked on your facade.” Ibiki grinned. So she had noticed, that was good- it meant that she was not slipping in her skills. And if this person wasn't slipping then she probably was growing.

Old Biddy.

“Ibiki-kun,” she paused and took in a breath, “do you think that I could live here?”

Ibiki startled- causing her to look up at him with a vulnerable and chagrined expression. “I meant in Konoha, I wouldn't impose on you like that.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “I found what I was looking for, and I've given up on finding my family.”

Morino Ibiki sat heavily onto the railing that lined the wood platform of his backyard. He studied her, looking for the nuances and lines that would belie her age. As usual he found none gracing the face that looked forever twenty one. She had never told him why she wasn't near her family, and she had never told him what she was searching for if not her family. And he had never asked.

She valued friends, and he could only surmise that she valued the close familial relationship just as much; for her to be away from them must be harsh for her, and she must have been wrought with guilt at unusual circumstance to keep her away from them.

But for her to give up on her treasured…

“You plan on staying here?”

She nodded her head, “Uhn, I believe I should reside amongst the clans of old.” Her head tilted back to look at the stars, and he was struck by how small this woman creature was. With her head tilted back and her odd traditional style, she looked like one of those hime's from the past- just stepped out of the storybook and into their lives.

She had the ancient height of the ancestors, when everyone was short to maximize their speed and agility, and the set chin and strong fingers of the old clan warriors. One would think they were hallucinating when she wore her every day clothes then they couldn't dream of her formal attire, but he had seen it.

One picture, tucked away in the far recesses of the Hokage's library, had a strong warrior in the traditional formal kimono of her clans. She was the epitome of the kunoichi, and she had portrayed herself as such at that moment in the photograph. Ibiki remembered being startled at how fragile she looked, yet he could see the alert way she held her shoulders and the exposed kunai on her wrist.

She was the clans. The highest elder and the original councilor it had said beneath the stunning photo.

Heh. “The clans are your home, where you are most welcome should they know. You will do well to stay here and teach of the heritage you know.” She smiled and exhaled a little breath out. “Besides,” Ibiki smiled a Machiavellian grin, “I think you will have fun whipping our rookies into shape.”

She laughed, throwing her head back and rejoicing to the stars. Nodding as she calmed down, the smile never left her face. “They need to be whipped into shape,” her eyes saddened, “yet they are so young….”

Ibiki smiled gently. “They are young, but they are strong. They are Konoha.”

She smiled.

His wife came out onto the porch, smiling gently at them and entering into their conversation as easily as if they had always been friends. It had not been so, as his wife had felt threatened by the younger looking female when they first met.

Ibiki had never found out what kind of jutsu she used to maintain her looks, as he couldn't even tell she was using her chakra with it on, but his wife had thought he was meeting with one of his younger coworkers for an affair.

The reactions they had to that little rumor were staggered; Kagome had looked shocked and her face had went through all the gradients before she had thrown her head back and laughed hysterically. Ibiki himself had been a little confused, until he heard the good-humor in the laughter and grinned at his wife before pulling her into a snug embrace. She had blushed and stammered when she was told the truth; that Kagome wouldn't even look at him in that way because of her age and the type of their relationship.

Ibiki smiled at the memory and drew his wife into the circle of his arms. Kagome smiled at them and turned her smiling face to the stars once again. He couldn't help but notice…though she was happy and smiling and content, the lone tear made its way down her cheek. And like he always did, and like she wished he would yet wished he wouldn't, he ignored her tears and gave her the privacy she sought and the time she craved.

One thing about her you would learn, her emotions were beautiful, but they were hers. To intrude upon her was like breaking the sanctity of the shrine graves, you would feel guilty and unworthy afterwards, and wouldn't know what to say or do.

It was out of respect that he and his wife left her to her memories and left her staring at the stars.

It was always out of respect.