Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Reality's Illusion ❯ Chapter 3: Drowning in Rapture ( Chapter 3 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Title: Reality's Illusion
Author: Shadow Rebirth
Beta Reader: Rukia23
Rating: T
Warnings: Violence, death, language, and spoilers.
Chapter WC: 4,548
Story WC: 12,042
First Written: February 9, 2009
Last Edited: February 22, 2009
Posted: March 29, 2009
Summary: [The dead do not walk, but the broken do not die, so where does that leave him?] When a blue eyed man with whisker-like scars and no memory shows up four years after the Yondaime's death Sarutobi doesn't know what to think. [Time travel. No pairings.]

Ichirou had never believed in ghosts. Even as a child, he'd never been taken in by the horror stories that the older kids would sometimes tell. As he'd grown and learned about all that chakra could accomplish, his beliefs had only been solidified. After all, who needed ghosts when any human could walk through a wall with the right transportation jutsu?

But Ichirou was pretty sure that living with Shitsumei was as close to living with a ghost as one could get.

Shitsumei would wander around the house at odd hours, taking everything in as if memorizing every last detail. One day, he'd spend hours and hours staring at a picture in the hall, the next day he'd spent staring at a shogi board, running his fingers over all the pieces but never actually playing with them. Sometimes Ichirou wandered if this was what it was like to live with a child–albeit, a very silent and unnerving child.

The blond haired man did actually talk to Ichirou, thank Kami, but only when the man felt like there was something that needed to be said. If he felt that something didn't require a reply, then he simply wouldn't respond.

To make the situation even stranger, Shitsumei never slept and never ate. When Ichirou had asked him about it once, Shitsumei had just given him a strange look and said that he didn't sleep because he wasn't tired and didn't eat because he wasn't hungry, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was bizarre and unexplainable, but Ichirou grew used to it soon enough.

It was impossible not to get used to Shitsumei's oddities, not with the blond's blasé attitude about everything.

As such, Ichirou barely even blinked when one morning he walked into his kitchen to find Shitsumei sitting on the ceiling, hanging upside down. He calmly began to make himself breakfast–cereal, that day–and a cup of coffee. Once he was sitting down and munching away, he stared thoughtfully up at Shitsumei. The blonde had begun to trace the grains of the wood with his finger.

"What are you doing?" Ichirou finally asked a few minutes later.

Shitsumei tilted his head back briefly so that he could see Ichirou beyond his freely hanging hair. "Looking at the grains," he murmured. "They remind me of the desert."

Ichirou snorted and ate another spoonful of cereal. "You relate everything to the desert," he commented around his food.

"Everything is relatable to everything else."

"Bah! If that's true, then don't relate it to the desert. Relate it to...a spoon!" Ichirou demanded, holding his utensil up.

Shitsumei didn't even open his mouth to reply. Just moments before, his head had snapped up to the doorway and his gaze was now glued there with unrelenting attention. Ichirou hesitated and slowly dropped his arm.

No sooner had he done so than the ring of the doorbell echoed through the house. Ichirou sighed silently. Though it was a bit unnerving, this wasn't the first time that Shitsumei had proven himself to be highly perceptive to sensing chakra. It was like the man had constant radar out for anything and anyone in the vicinity.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Ichirou hollered when the doorbell rang again. He ran a hand through his shoulder length pale hair and sighed as he got up. "Damn nosy ANBU, stopping by at all hours of the day. 'Hokage's orders' my ass; they're just curious–"

Ichirou grumbling cut off abruptly the moment he opened the door. Standing outside was not an ANBU as he'd expected, but instead another pale haired man a few years his junior and a little four year old girl in a purple dress.

"Eh?" Ichirou said as he blinked in surprise. A smile suddenly bloomed on his face. "Inoichi! What're you doing here? I thought you were still out on a mission!"

Inoichi returned his older brother's smile. "I just got back yesterday," he replied. "Ino-chan wanted to visit, so I thought we'd stop by."

"Ah, yes, Ino-chan!" Ichirou said brightly. He knelt down and lifted the giggling girl into his arms while inviting Inoichi inside with a jerk of his head. "You've grown so much! You're going to be as tall as me one day, ne?"

"Taller!" Ino declared loudly.

Chuckling, Ichirou set Ino down on a couch and turned back to Inoichi. "How did things go?" he asked. "Your wife mentioned that–"

"Ichirou-ji-san? Why is there a man sitting on your ceiling?" Ino suddenly asked. She was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, peering inside curiously.

Inoichi tensed instantly, but Ichirou quickly signaled to him that it was okay. "Ah, that's a friend of mine, Ino-chan," he replied. "He's staying with me for a little while."

"Why?" Inoichi muttered, too quiet for his daughter to hear. "What's going on?"

"Sorry, but that's classified!"

Inoichi gave him a flat look. "I'm a part of the Intel Department, Ichirou," he pointed out dryly.

Ichirou's smile never faltered. "Which means that while you have clearance to know, I'm not allowed to tell you. You'll have to go down to Headquarters to find out what's going on."

With a deep frown, Inoichi glanced back and forth between the kitchen and his elder brother. Ichirou had no doubt that that he'd already sensed that there was something important going on; within their family, Inoichi's intuition was second to none. He could only hope that Inoichi didn't dig too deeply into things that the Hokage didn't want to reveal.

Within the first day, Shitsumei found Ichirou's house to be odd. It was a large, two story building on the eastern side of Konoha that was surrounded by thick foliage on all sides. It was filled with furniture and items of all kinds, but somehow it felt...empty. Shitsumei didn't understand how Ichirou could live in the house all on his own.

In order to attempt to figure out what it was that Ichirou liked about the building, he took to exploring it everyday. It had character, he had to admit. There were so many little details that made it unique, from the lopsided doorway that led into a closet on the first floor, to the missing tile in the corner of the upstairs bathroom.

What really caught Shitsumei's eye though were the pictures in the house. They contained so many people, many of whom looked much like Ichirou. (It was a testament to humans' blind perception that they'd never noticed the resemblance before. But now every time he looked in the mirror, he could see him staring back at him and he couldn't help but wonder what he would have seen in him) Shitsumei couldn't help but wonder why Ichirou didn't live with any of these people. Surely they were his family, so why...?

After a few weeks, Shitsumei realized that no one ever came to visit Ichirou. No friends, no family. It just didn't make any sense to the blond. Why was someone as open and friendly as Ichirou always alone? (It was the loneliness that always hurt the most. Whenever someone turned away or looked through him like he wasn't there–wasn't worth the effort–it was like another twist of the knife in his heart. Just for once he wanted someone to look him in the eye and see–)

Of course, there were always two people around the house, but they didn't count. Shitsumei knew without having to look that they were those masked men–ANBU. They never revealed themselves, never spoke, but they were there just the same. It wasn't always the same people either–the chakra signatures changed once a day–but no matter what, there were always two of them there, watching.

He'd wondered if he should have felt unnerved by their presence, but instead it felt...comforting to know that they were there. (Sometimes it seems like you have a guardian angel watching over you, she'd said. He'd only smiled humorlessly in reply and told her that it was no angel.)

It didn't take Shitsumei very long to realize that his perception of time was severely skewed. Sometimes moments would seem to stretch on into eternity while at other times whole hours would pass by in an instant. It was only because of the rising and setting of the sun that the blond was even aware of this fact.

Ichirou didn't seem to notice this and Shitsumei certainly never brought it up. It didn't really matter anyway; it had no real effect on his life. But somewhere in the back of his mind, something wondered why it was happening.

After an eternity of living with Ichirou (Or an instant. They were the same thing, just like a drop of water that fell with the weight of a tsunami) they were visited by two new people: Ichirou's first real visitors. Shitsumei felt his interest peaked by their presence. Who were they and why had they come?

Not long after Ichirou had answered the door, Shitsumei found himself staring into a pair of blue eyes that belonged to a small girl with pale blond hair (The quickly drying blood made it look almost white, he noticed. The contrast was disgusting in its beauty and suddenly he was glad that he'd never seen her wear red before). She stared at him with wide curious eyes that could only belong to a child.

"Ichirou-ji-san? Why is there a man sitting on your ceiling?"

Ji-san? Abruptly the similarities between Ichirou and the girl became startlingly clear. Family, he realized. He had an ashen taste in his mouth and suddenly he wondered why "family" was such a bad thing.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Shitsumei dropped from the wooden ceiling and landed in a crouch on the floor. The little girl never flinched, just continued to study him curiously. (He'd never been good with kids. He just didn't know how to act around them, not even–)

"You're so...big," the girl said finally.

Ichirou laughed from his spot in the doorway. "I'm taller than him, Ino-chan," he pointed out. "Does that make me 'big' too?"

The little girl immediately shook her head. "No, not that kind of big," she said. Her brow was furrowed and she looked frustrated. "He's–He's...big."

(They always said that children were more sensitive than adults, but it would be years before he knew what that meant; years before he understood that the other children didn't ignore him because their parents were wary of him, but because they knew that he was different from them)

Ichirou frowned and exchanged a glance with the man next to him, clearly not knowing what to make of the statement. The other man looked almost exactly like Ichirou, only with longer hair and more scars. They were probably brothers, Shitsumei thought. (As close as brothers, he thought bitterly. That should have been the first warning sign. In the end, family always seemed to betray family, especially when it came to him)

"What are you doing here, Oji-san?" the girl asked abruptly.

Shitsumei blinked owlishly and cocked his head to the side. "I'm not sure," he replied with a thoughtful sound.

All of a sudden, Ino smiled brightly. "Will you play with me?" she asked with childish innocence. "Ichirou-ji-san usually tells me stories when we come."

"I don't know any stories."

"You can make one up!"

Shitsumei glanced up at Ichirou, feeling awkward, but the older man was just grinning at him. Glancing back down at the little girl, he shrugged. "I'm not very good at making them up either."

Ino pouted, but after a moment she brightened back up again. Instantly, she latched onto Shitsumei's hand and began pulling him out of the room.

"Then you can read me one of Ichirou-ji-san's!"

Shitsumei flinched at the contact. Not from fear, but from...What? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that her hand was too small and too warm. (Not like it was supposed to be. Nothing was like it was supposed to be.)

Shitsumei was without a doubt the most interesting person that Ichirou had ever met or ever would meet. The man was a walking contradiction, with eyes that belonged to a sage and a curiosity that belonged to an infant. That his existence itself was an impossibility only added to the mix.

After more than a month of living with the blue eyed man, Sarutobi finally called Ichirou in for a meeting. The Yamanaka was faintly surprised to find that he had no problem leaving Shitsumei alone at home, but chalked it up to the knowledge that there were ANBU watching him.

"Yes, Hokage-sama?" Ichirou asked as he stood inside the Hokage's office.

Sarutobi offered him a wane smile. The elderly man was standing behind his desk, staring out at Konoha through the open windows that lined the back wall.

"So serious, Ichirou? It isn't like you."

"...We're involved in serious business, Hokage-sama."

Sarutobi sighed heavily. "Indeed we are," he murmured. Finally turning away from the view of his Village, he took a seat at his desk. "I'll cut to the chase then: What else have you found out about Shitsumei?"

"Anything that I've found out your ANBU have probably already reported to you," Ichirou said dryly.

"Indeed," Sarutobi chuckled. "But your perspective is different than theirs; you live with him, while they observe from the outside. So please, tell me what you think."

"...I honestly don't know what to think about him," Ichirou said slowly. "Every time I think I've figured him out, he does something that leaves me utterly confused. One moment he seems so serious, so jaded, and then the next he's innocently asking what marshmallows are made of. It's, it's– Well, I just don't know what to make of it."

The Hokage nodded slowly. Silence pervaded the office as the older shinobi lit up his pipe and began to smoke. Ichirou resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose; smoke always made him want to gag.

"I think...I think it's time to let Shitsumei out into the village," Sarutobi said finally. "Show him around; I'd like to see his reaction to Konoha. And besides, it's cruel and unusual punishment to keep someone locked up in a house for months on end."

"...What about his appearance?" the Yamanaka asked. "People will start to question–"

"He'll wear a mask. I agree that he definitely shouldn't show his face to the public."

Ichirou nodded slowly. "I agree, sir. And I think that Shitsumei would like to get out; I often see him staring out the window and my house doesn't exactly have a good view of the village. I...I have to ask though: Why have you waited this long to let him go out?"

"There's always a chance that he is spy," was the grave reply. "But it's becoming less and less likely with each new bit of information that we find out about him. Normally, an amnesia patient has holes in their memories, but not their knowledge. Shitsumei's mind, however, seems to be all over the place. It's decidedly odd." Sarutobi sighed. "You know, I had a Hyuuga take a look at him the other day, to see if there was anything...off about this chakra."

"The Kyuubi."

Sarutobi nodded. "The Hyuuga, he...He's in the hospital right now with retina damage–nothing permanent, fortunately," he told him. "He said that Shitsumei looked like a miniature sun, literally glowing with chakra. It was all human chakra, though. Shitsumei has no connection to the Kyuubi like Naruto does."

Ichirou honestly didn't know what to say to that. What could he say? "I...I'm both shocked and unsurprised by that, I suppose."

The older shinobi smiled in agreement. "Yes, that's how we all feel," he murmured. "I had hoped that taking a look at Shitsumei's chakra would shed some light on the mystery surrounding him, but instead it's only left us with more questions."

"Out?" Shitsumei repeated. He honestly hadn't even considered it. Ichirou's house was his world now–it was the only thing he knew, day in and day out.

"Yep!" Ichirou replied cheerfully. "You'll have to wear this though, to hide your appearance."

Shitsumei stared at the porcelain mask in the man's hands. It was similar to the ones that ANBU wore, except that it was a simple oval shape, instead of depicting an animal (It only took him an instant to realize that the hunter-nin was the same boy from the clearing. He should have felt betrayed, but instead there was only an infinite sadness. "If we'd met under different circumstances, we might've become friends."). The designs on it were blue instead of red which Shitsumei found fitting, though for the life of him he didn't know why.

"You keep mentioning my appearance," Shitsumei said suddenly. "Why?"

Ichirou hesitated, looking torn. "You..." he began, only to stop and sigh, "You look almost exactly like the Yondaime Hokage of our village, who died four years ago. The only difference between the two of you is those scars on your face. And...Well, there's someone else in the village who has scars just like that. A person who just happens to be connected to the Yondaime Hokage."

Shitsumei silently took this information in. He looked like the Yondaime Hokage? That was...curious. (Blue like the sky, she said. Blue like the water in the depths of a well, he said.)

Without another word, Shitsumei took the proffered mask and slid it into place, covering his face. It felt surprisingly comfortable, familiar even.

Over the next hour, Ichirou took him out into Konoha and led him around the village. He pointed out various landmarks and shops and Shitsumei took it all in with a fascination that surprised even himself. He couldn't understand why the village mattered, but it did.

"And that's the Hokage Monument," Ichirou said softly. He gestured to the massive cliff face overlooking the village with a sweeping hand motion. "Those are the previous leaders of the village: Senju Hashirama, Senju Tobirama, Sarutobi Hiruzen, and Namikaze Minato."

Shitsumei made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat as he stared as the stone faces. All of them were littered with deep gashes in some places and smoothed down by the wind on others.

Worn from time.

(He cursed aloud as the scroll slipped from his hand. He was too worn down from the fight and he knew he was loosing blood much too quickly, but he had to get there in time or else risk loosing it all–)

The blond haired man frowned suddenly as he stared at the monument. He couldn't help but feel as though there was something wrong. Or missing maybe.

"...Isn't there a fifth head?" he murmured after a moment.

Ichirou threw him a strange look. "A fifth?" he repeated. "No, not yet. We haven't had a Godaime Hokage yet."

(He gritted his teeth as she took another swig from the sake bottle. She was starting to drink herself to death, he knew it. They'd tried to get her to stop, but everyone–not just her–were beginning to crumble from the stress. It felt like the village was coming apart at the seams.)

Shitsumei nodded slowly, but his frown only deepened. After a moment, he looked away from the Hokage Monument, unable to deal with the strange feeling of utter wrongness that it evoked in him. When he turned back to Ichirou, the older man was staring at him with an unreadable expression, so he met him stare for stare until Ichirou finally shifted uncomfortably and tore his gaze away.

"Uh, well, why don't we get some lunch?" Ichirou said. "I know you never eat, but I'm starving."

Without bothering to wait for a reply that he already knew wasn't coming, Ichirou began to lead the way through the village. Shitsumei began to follow him, but then he froze suddenly and looked around with wide eyes. The hairs of the back of his neck were standing on end and his skin was covered in goosebumps.

(Spinning blood red eyes glared down at him, promising pain, promising death, promising the destruction of everything he'd worked so damn hard for and there was nothing he could do–)

Despite the feeling, Shitsumei couldn't find the cause of his sudden alarm. The closest people to him were a woman and a little four year old boy, neither of whom he could sense as being dangerous. But his instincts were still screaming at him.

Slowly, the blue eyed man turned and walked over to the woman and child. Each step seemed to take an eternity and the collided with the ground with the force of an earthquake. The sky above him was swallowed by the sun and the ground seemed to be writhing as though alive–

–And then he blinked and he was standing in front of the little boy. The woman was frowning fiercely and gripping her son tightly. The child, on the other hand, was looking up at him with curious eyes that were as black as empty, bottomless pits that just waiting to swallow him up.

"Can I help you, shinobi-san?" the woman asked sharply.

Shitsumei shook his head to dislodge the strange thoughts that had been invading his mind. He was never a very poetic person, so it didn't make any sense for his thoughts to take such a direction now. But then, it didn't make sense for a little boy to cause him to feel such–angerfrustrationfearsadnessbetrayalrage–alarm either.

"Shitsumei? What the hell are you doing?" Ichirou called as he jogged over to them.

The blond didn't even spare him a glance, nor did he notice how the woman's grip on her son tightened even further (Sometimes he wondered what it was like to have parents. Then he remembered that his team was like his family. Or at least they had been until everything went to hell and Sas–).

"Who are you?" Shitsumei blinked. He hadn't meant to ask anything; it'd passed from his lips without him consciously thinking of it.

The woman opened her mouth, only to pause suddenly as she realized that the question hadn't been directed at her. The little boy in question however just smiled innocently, revealing several missing teeth.

"I'm Sasuke!" he replied cheerfully.

"Shitsumei," Ichirou hissed. He tossed an apologetic glance at the woman. "Come on, please,"

Shitsumei stepped back suddenly and ripped his gaze from the little boy. Without another word he turned on his heel and began to walk away.

"What the– Er, sorry, Ma'am. Shitsumei! Hold on!"

He ignored Ichirou and continued to walk, silently refusing to answer any questions thrown his way. In all honesty, he wasn't sure what had just happened. Something about the child set him on edge.

"Shitsumei!" Ichirou repeated as he finally caught up to the blond haired man. "What the fuck was that about? You really freaked that poor woman out."

He didn't reply. He didn't even glance at Ichirou, but instead stared stonily ahead. Ichirou sighed, frustrated, but dropped the subject.

(Sometimes he wondered if it was a good thing that he never opened up to his friends. He was boisterous enough that they never noticed–never asked anything at all. He was fine with it, at first, but then one day he realized that even she didn't know that he enjoyed gardening).

"Fine," the older man grunted. "Let's just go. The place I was talking about is right over there."

Shitsumei watched, half brooding, half curious, as Ichirou lead him to a small, colorful ramen stand. Ichiraku Ramen Bar was spelled clearly across the top. (He sat with a wizened shinobi in a white hat–A laughing teacher with a scar across his nose–A silver haired man with a single eye–An older man with red tattoos on his face–) For some, bizarre reason Shitsumei's mouth began to water. He still wasn't hungry, but the very thought of ramen seemed so...appetizing.

Inside the small ramen bar was a counter lined with stools. Even though it was the middle of the day, there was no one else there at the moment. Ichirou took a seat at the counter and signaled the shop owner.

"One beef ramen, please!" the long haired man chirped.

"...And one miso," Shitsumei added grudgingly. He just couldn't help it.

Instantly, Ichirou's head snapped around to stare at his companion in shock. "What?" he all but demanded. "You–you honestly want to eat?"

Shitsumei shrugged, not bothering to offer his thoughts on the matter. Ichirou looked almost disturbed at the sudden change in him, but before he could even open his mouth to question it, they were joined by two more people in the ramen shop: an older man and a little boy.

(Death was a part of being a shinobi, he knew, but that didn't make it any easier. No one had expected such a legendary, powerful figure to be killed. But then, no one had expected the invasion either.)

It only took Shitsumei's mind a brief second to recognize the man as Sarutobi, but by then his eyes were already glued to the child at the Hokage's side. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end for the second time that day, but he didn't feel alarm like he had with that boy, Sasuke. Instead he just felt as though the rest of the world had melted away, leaving only the smiling face of a blue eyed, blond haired little boy behind.

The boy seemed to be similarly entranced. The moment he stepped into the ramen bar, he'd released Sarutobi's hand and begun to walk towards Shitsumei. The elder blond slipped off his stool as the child approached and crouched down on the balls of his feet. When the little boy had finally stopped before him, his small, chubby hands reached up and ran over the smooth contours of Shitsumei's mask.

Shitsumei breathed in and out slowly. He found himself in awe of this child, though for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. Or, rather, he wouldn't be able to figure it out had he had even the slightest urge to, which he didn't. At this moment however, he didn't even notice Sarutobi and Ichirou, who were watching the proceedings with sharp eyes, let alone the ramen bar owner, who was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot behind the counter.

Finally, the little boy's fingers grasped the edges of the white and blue mask covering Shitsumei's face. No one made a move to stop him as he slowly pulled it away, revealing a face that almost perfectly mirrored the boy's own visage, though it was sharp and hard, instead of round with baby fat. The boy smiled delightedly and his small fingers now traced the six scars on Shitsumei's face–scars that he, too, was marked with.

Meanwhile, Shitsumei was almost entirely unaware of the boy's actions. He was too caught up in the child's blue eyes. Too blue, his mind whispered. Too young, too happy, too naive, too carefree. Too blue.

(Blue like the sky, she said. Blue like the water in the depths of a well, he said.)

Kami – God
Oji-san/Ji-san – Uncle
Kyuubi – Nine tails

A/N: I realize it’s not very clear whether Shitsumei is aware of the "flashbacks" that he has periodically, so let me explain: Shitsumei is aware of them when they happen, but they almost instantly slip from his mind. If asked to repeat one of them even just a few seconds later, he wouldn't be able to remember. So, basically, little things set his memory off, but he's unable to retain those memories.

I'm honestly not sure where the scene with Sasuke came from. I had the bits with Ino and Naruto planned, but...Well, even when I first started writing the scene it was originally going to be Itachi. Then I realized that Itachi was most likely already an ANBU at this point–or at least a high-level shinobi–so I changed it to Sasuke. It works better with him anyway, because of everything that he and Naruto have gone through.

--S.R.

--Also, to GoblinKing2112: I have to say that your theories really are fascinating and unique. However, none of them are quite accurate. I guess you’ll have to wait and see to find out what’s planned, though it will be interesting to see if you manage to guess it!