Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Shinobi: Pride of Pride ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Hanasaki Rikku
Gross...I don't like the format, but there's nothing I can do. I tried, but oh well. I prefer ff.net, so if you want, so can check it out there too. The story, I mean. And all my other ones, the whole four of them.

Anime/Manga: Naruto Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Drama / Romance / Angst | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 11.27.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.0K | Visits: 249 | Status: Completed

Shinobi: The Price of Pride
By: Hanasaki Rikku
Summary: With a clan like the Hanasaki, is it any wonder why Rikku is the way she is? She lost her brother and friend at such a young age, and things with Chizuko have seemed to only gotten worse. What does Itachi want and why does a certain Snake Sannin seem so interested in her life all of the sudden?
Rating: T/M. For violence (poorly written, but still there), language, and some other stuff I can't quite recall at the moment. Just be warned. Oh, that, and my horrible writing.
Genre: Romance/Action/Adventure/Angst
"What isn't remembered never happened
memory is merely a record
you just need to rewrite that record"
((CHAPTER TWO))
She had become accustomed to the stale odor of smoke and liquor, the dim and fading light of the aging ale sign and dingy windows being the only source of light. A putrid smell of urination and bile filtered in from the door-less washrooms, but she paid it no mind as she took her seat furthest from the entrance on one of the more stable stools. An elder man sauntered over to her from an unconscious and still lump of a man, the vest long discarded on the adhering floor proving him to be a Chuunin.
“The usual, Hanasaki?”
She merely nodded, gazing at the man blankly. He gave her a sympathizing smile, his withering face strained by the effort. He returned a minute later, placing a shot of something down on the counter before her, the contents of the drink resembling her eyes in color. Her gaze fixated on the drink, staring for a moment until finally just taking it in her hands and bringing it to her lips.
The hard liquor presented a satisfying, numbing feel on its way down, warming her throat and settling comfortably in her stomach. The cool feel of the shot glass against her lips brought her back, her hot breath deflecting back to her from the now empty glass. She placed it down with a light `thunk', closing her eyes, ignoring the prickling sting it brought to them.
“Not a lot of customers today…” She mumbled, opening her eyes to stare up at the large bracket containing a multitude of liquors and wines.
“Mm, don't get a lot of `em down here this time of day. Just the usual brand of drunks with nothing else to do and nowhere else to spend their money.” The kunoichi didn't bother to respond, her gaze distant. “You're earlier than usual, I notice. Any particular reason?”
“I have an assignment tomorrow, I won't have time to come by later.” She muttered absently, continuing to stare off into space. She faintly remembered being told to return to the Hokage's office to retrieve her uniform…or something around those lines. It was all fading away now as she downed her fourth shot.
A sudden commotion at a nearby booth caught the man's attention and he meandered his way around the bar, only making it halfway before groaning in mild irritation. Rikku flicked a glance his way, questioning the man silently without bothering to turn and see for herself.
“Here we go again.” He mumbled in her direction, keeping his wearisome eyes fixated on the scene. Sighing, he walked towards a booth situated behind her, out of her line of view. “Jiraiya-sama, I am honored to have you here. Truly, I am,” She caught the sounds of women's giggling, and a throaty chuckle from whom she guessed to be the troublesome patron. The name itself rang familiar, and she took a moment to search her memory before coming up with a result. Jiraiya was the name of the Toad Sannin, one of The Legendary Sannin. “But, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave if you continue this disturbance.”
The man, Jiraiya, laughed it off in a dismissive manner, accompanied by the high-pitched giggling of his `companions'.
“No problem, my good man, I was just leaving to work on some…research,” he emphasized the last word and she could almost imagine the lecherous grin.
Rikku mentally cringed at the man's blatant perverseness, tuning the conversation out and focusing rather on a desultory spot on the counter, closing her eyes. Men like that had no reason becoming Shinobi. She didn't understand how he could have possibly been revered as one of the Sannin when he held so little respect for himself. People like that were, in her mind, pathetic, and a waste of air. It bothered her to know that while Shinobi were out there, fighting, dying, for their village, people like him were sitting here without a care in the world and treated better nonetheless.
But then, it could have just as easily been the fact that she was still bitter from a forlorn experience years ago that caused these thoughts within her.
It had been four years ago on this exact day and she still couldn't find it in herself to just forget. Ayame had been a close friend; everything had been fine…before she died. After that, everything seemed to just dull out in vapid shades of black and white.
Her sensei looked beyond the point of exhaustion and she found herself forced to assist him in the simple act of standing. Frowning in concern, she helped him take a seat upon what once was a wall. She had to force herself to just watch her sensei and ignore everything else. She didn't want to see the littered bodies of war's casualties, the blood of innocent lives splayed across the streets of her village.
So many deaths over something so trivial…
Absently, she tightened her hold on the Jounin's shoulder, only realizing upon seeing his wince of pain. She mumbled a soft, “Sorry,” and released her hold, hoping he'd be capable of stabling himself on his own.
He nodded, sighing deeply; something was wrong, she knew. Chizuko's name crossed her thoughts but she quickly shook it away, knowing she'd see her after battle. She wasn't worried whether or not Chizuko was safe; the older girl was just too damn stubborn to die now, it wouldn't be right.
“Rikku…” He broke off in a cough, doubling over. He had fought hard against the few remaining Sound-nins, and she couldn't help but feel proud to be his subordinate. His strength amazed her, but he had been too busy protecting them, and because of that, he'd taken the brunt of the force, leaving them more or less unscathed. “Go check on Chizuko, will ya…”
For a moment, she found it hard to breathe, and she found herself wondering again why earlier, he hadn't allowed her to see Chizuko. “Of course.” She mumbled, hurrying away in the general direction she remembered leaving Chizuko in. It didn't take long to find her, what with the Sound and Sand-nins having either fled or… died.
Chizuko was easy to make out, and she looked healthy enough, but… what was that in her arms. With a frown, she slowed her pace as she approached the older girl. “Chizuko? I'm back. Genma-sensei…” She trailed off, and time seemed to just stop as her gaze descended upon the prone form double over her crimson-haired friend. “Oh my god…”
Chizuko made no move to acknowledge her, though, at that moment, Rikku wasn't aware of anything else at that moment except… Ayame.
Ayame, slumped lifelessly over Chizuko's frozen form, dull green eyes staring up at her, features frozen in horror. And the blood…all the blood. It wouldn't stop coming, her mouth and nose; even her eyes issued blood… almost like tears.
Crimson tears.
Her jaw clenched and she swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat; blood circling her feet, she could almost feel it try to drag her in. She swore her heart stopped for a minute, before excelling to a neck-breaking speed, lungs constricted and useless as if someone had shoved a steel pipe straight through them. Her hands…no…her entire body was shaking uncontrollably and she suddenly found herself unable to stand.
From ashen skin to the bluish, almost purple tint to her lips and of course the gaping hole through her stomach, she knew. Ayame was dead. Ayame was gone; she was never coming back. She had failed to protect yet another person.
She frowned, feeling moisture on her cheeks.
Was it raining? How could it be raining? How could it be raining when the sun was out and not a cloud in the sky? Why wasn't anything else wet? Nothing else, only her face. But that couldn't be right…because that would mean she was…crying. And she didn't cry. It wasn't something she did; it wasn't something she knewhow to do.
It wasn't tears that burned her eyes and streaked down her cheeks, it was rain. Rain for Ayame. Ayame; dead Ayame. Ayame whose vacant eyes stared up at her, not quite looking. Ayame who cried crimson tears, trickling down her horror-stricken face, mixing with Chizuko's tears.
And while they cried, while her best friends cried before her, it rained. Rained for Ayame.
“I thought I'd find you here.”
She opened her eyes far too quickly for her own taste, a tinge of pain at the back of her head opposing the sudden movement. She took a breath and glanced at Chizuko, the older girl standing beside her with an air of solemnity; she didn't miss the lingering trace of pity that bordered her crimson eyes, directed towards her. She narrowed her eyes slightly at that, but said nothing.
She stood, placing several ryous for her many drinks as well as leaving an overly generous tip. She might as well have left now, before she ended up drunk, which was never a good thing. It wasn't that she was an angry drunk, but she tended to become emotionally unstable during those rare occasions.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of white hair… or something resembling it. The only one coming to mind with such hair color being…
“Well aren't you a hottie? What's your name?”
Her amber gaze drifted from Jiraiya's promiscuously grinning face to Chizuko's annoyed one, dropping down to the hand currently groping Chizuko's ass, belonging to the one and only Toad Sannin. She simply stared at the man, amber-gold eyes stoic and cold; she really did make a good example for the Hanasaki. Though, if that was a good thing, she wasn't sure.
For a moment, he seemed not to notice, content to cop a feel from her mal-tempered friend. The second his eyes set on hers, however, all prior forms of intoxication left his features, his eyes darkening, displaying a wave of displeasure and mild recognition.
She wasn't really surprised.
He glared at her with a sudden dislike, releasing the Himura girl and turning his full attention onto her. “You look familiar…” His voice seemed forced, tone laced in hatred. Why? She didn't know, having never before met the man. He was of the Legendary Three, so of course she had heard of the eminent Ninja, but had not otherwise had the opportunity to meet him. But, by the looks of his behavior, she wouldn't have wanted to meet some perverted excuse for a man anyway.
“Hn.” She dropped her gaze, glancing at the furious Himura, before brushing past him and out the door. “Let's go,” was all she said, performing a single seal and vanishing in a column of jutsu smoke.
((CHAPTER END))