Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ The Road We Walked ❯ I'm In The Business of Misery ( Chapter 5 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Rating: T

Warnings: Hints of pairing, which is yaoi, in this chappie.

Mika could hardly remember a time when she had ever been in as much pain as she was the three days following the conclusion of their mission in Suna. The medic-nin of her clan had healed her to the best of their abilities, but quality medical-nin came too few and far in between in her family. Somehow, she found herself in the Hyuuga household, laying on some futon with Hyuuga Neji’s cousin – the Hyuuga heir herself – attending to her wounds. The girl seemed incredibly flustered, but Mika couldn’t fathom what could have been bothering her. All throughout her work, she kept her face bowed and eyes down cast, a constant flush on her cheeks. Meanwhile, her cousin sat in a far corner of the room, eyes never leaving them and undoubtedly having some part in his cousin’s discomfort.

When Hinata had finished and Mika’s face felt considerably less painful, she sat up in the futon, gingerly feeling at the back of her head and pleasantly surprised to find nothing there. The Hyuuga girl excused herself quietly without giving Mika the chance to thank her properly, and so she was left alone with only Neji for company. Quite honestly, she had been intending to talk to him about the subject troubling her thoughts. Uzumaki Naruto refused to stray from her thoughts and she couldn’t understand why. The boy intrigued her. He was a complete mystery and she wanted to understand what it was about him that gave people a reason to change. And Neji was friends with the blond, so …

“What’s your relationship with Uzumaki Naruto?”

Neji had been about to speak, but she had cut him off before he’d gotten the chance. Now, he looked surprised, and somewhat caught off guard. She knew her question was sudden and an unusual one. Uzumaki should have been the furthest thing from her mind. After all, he wouldn’t know her, given she was no ANBU and when assigned on ANBU missions she was forbidden to disclose personal information to even a fellow Leaf-nin.

“Naruto … is a friend. Why?” Neji left the chair he had been occupying for the last hour and came to kneel beside her futon instead.

She frowned at him. “I don’t understand … him.”

He seemed amused. “Naruto is strange, yes. He gives people the ability to believe in themselves and in others. Would you like to know how we came to be friends?”

Studying him curiously, she felt her frown deepen. “Why?” Why would he offer insight into his background so freely? They hardly knew each other outside of clan meetings. She had thus far been on only two missions with him, one of which had led to him seeing a side of her she’d had no desire to reveal to him.

“I told you,” he said slowly, “I won’t marry someone I can’t trust. And how can you trust someone you don’t even know?”

“You can’t,” she replied simply, staring at him blankly. “But we don’t need to know each other. It’s a marriage of convenience. We just learn how to live with each other, because that’s what we have to do.”

Three years ago, when she had first formally met the Hyuuga, it had been through her grandfather. At the time, she had not been aware of the arrangements being made between Hiashi and Hokori. Neji had been a cold individual who didn’t try too hard to hide his disdain of his uncle. Typical of most prodigies born to prestigious clans such as the Hyuuga, Uchiha and Hebiza, Hyuuga Neji had been a silent, calculating person, given to expressionless stares and a certain ‘holier-than-thou’ air about him. Whatever had happened over the two years since she’d last seen him, he seemed to have changed dramatically.

“That isn’t necessarily the only option. It would make things easier for both of us if we got to know one another before finalizing anything. Don’t you agree?” She shrugged. It made sense, but the entire prospect was foreign. And he seemed so adamant about it. He frowned. “Mikazuki-san–“

“Mika.”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

Rolling her eyes, she decided she didn’t want to get into an argument with him regarding the terms of their marriage – if there even was one. She wanted to discuss Uzumaki, not their relationship. “I don’t like to argue. And if you’re so intent on this, then you can begin by ceasing to refer to me by that dreadful name. Simply Mika will do.”

“You don’t like your name?”

She didn’t meet his eyes, feeling her expression darken. “It was my grandmother who named me. My brother always called me Mika.”

He was silent for some time, as though he hadn’t expected that response, but she wasn’t surprised. “I wasn’t aware you had a brother.”

“He’s dead.” The lie her family had fed everyone. Really, it was more a rumor that had sprung up somewhere and was never refuted by the Hebiza. Banishment was a not the type of thing clans wanted to be accused of nowadays, especially when they didn’t legally have that right to do so.

Neji said nothing to that. They sat in silence, Mika staring ahead into nothingness, aware of those silvery eyes upon her, studying her, searching her expressionless face for something. He let the silence drag on for a while before speaking. Mika only listened as he relayed his past with the Uzumaki. How, before the Chuunin exams, he had seen his cousin, Hinata, unfit to be a ninja due to her compassionate nature and lack of confidence. He had always lived under the belief that one could not defy the destiny fate had handed them; that those who were meant to succeed would, and a failure would always be a failure.

But Uzumaki had fought him, contradicting everything Neji had ever believed in. During their match, Neji had intended to show Uzumaki that fate could not be defied, and that someone who was weak would always remain weak. But Uzumaki was unwilling to accept such ideals, arguing that Neji, for all his belief in fate, had not accepted his own destiny. And the boy had been right. Neji had always despised the limitations placed upon him for simply belonging in the Branch family. His entire life, he had worked, inadvertently, to surpass the Main family.

In the end, it was Uzumaki who won the match by surprising Neji with his Bunshin – a technique Neji had recognized as the blond’s signature move. After the match, however, Uzumaki had explained to him that such a technique had always been his most difficult, and that only through hard work had he managed to come as far as he had.

“The Hyuuga clan has a special jutsu that has been passed down through generations.” Sensing the shift in the conversation, Mika looked at Neji. His eyes were no longer on her, but she could still sense his gaze. “A cursed seal. The curse of the mark represents a bird in a cage. It is the symbol of being trapped to an inescapable destiny.”

Slowly, he reached behind his head and undid the knot of his hitai-ate. He let it fall to his lap and began to work at the wrapping around his forehead. She watched, amazed, as the green markings of a seal she had only seen in her family scrolls was slowly unveiled. That mark …

When he was finished, he met her eyes again, his face perfectly calm while hers had begun to falter in her shock. “One day, when I was four, I had this horrible seal carved into my forehead. That day, a grand ceremony was taking place in Konoha. A Shinobi leader from Kumo, which had been warring with Konoha for many years, had arrived to sign a treaty of alliance.”

“I remember that,” she murmured, studying the seal with concealed revulsion.

“Yes, but because on that day, the Hyuuga heir had turned three, our clan was absent from the ceremony.” He paused again, considering his words. “My father, Hyuuga Hizashi, and my uncle, Hiashi-sama, were twins. But my uncle was born first and thus became a member of the Main family. My father, the second son, became a member of the Branch.” Something flickered in his eyes, but it was gone before she could decipher it. “When the Hyuuga first daughter turned three, I received this mark.”

Mika frowned. “Neji-san … that mark…”

He closed his eyes. “It is the absolute fear of death given to the Branch family by the Main family. With a simple secret hand seal, our mind can be easily destroyed. This seal will only disappear after death, taking with it the ability of the Byuakugen. The Branch family, after all, is intended to protect the Main family.”

“Neji-san.” She started again, clearing her expression. He opened his eyes, frowning slightly, but she suspected it was due to whatever memories were resurfacing behind those pale, silvery eyes than for her interruption. “That mark … Do you know where it came from?”

His frowned deepened, curiously, and he slowly shook his head. “No.”

“My clan specializes in many seal elements, and …” She hesitated and didn’t know why, keeping his gaze resolutely despite the urge to look away. “It was my clan that came up with that seal. I know it well. I wouldn’t doubt that … it was the Hebiza clan who customized that seal for the Hyuuga.”

Neji looked startled, and properly so. She expected some form of accusation, but it never came. Gradually, his surprise eased, and he features appeared calmer than before.

“An incident occurred,” he pressed on, ignoring her admission. “One night, Hinata-sama was taken, but Hiashi-sama quickly took care of it and killed him. It was dark, and the man had been wearing a mask. Who do you suppose it was, but none other than the Kumo leader who had just signed the alliance treaty. It was clear that he had been seeking the Hyuuga secrets, but with one of their leaders dead, Kumo accused Konoha of breaking the alliance. It nearly came to war, but Konoha avoided it by making a secret proposal. Kumogakure wanted the Hyuuga’s advanced blood and the Byuakugen, and so they demanded the corpse of Hiashi-sama. And Konoha agreed.”

Mika imagined she already knew where this story was headed, and spoken without thinking. “So your father took his place, and war was safely avoided, correct?” She understood now, a little, of Neji’s animosity towards his uncle. But things had changed, and he was no longer the same.

Neji nodded. “Correct. But … at the time, Hiashi-sama fully intended to die for the village. However, the Hyuuga elders would not allow it. They chose my father to take Hiashi-sama’s place. The arrangement had been settled without Hiashi-sama’s knowledge, and when he heard of it, he tried to convince the elders otherwise. But the agreement with Kumo had been merely the handing over of Hyuuga Hiashi’s body. Obviously, they kept their true intentions secret. If handed a body identical to Hiashi-sama’s, they would not be able to complain, even if in death, the Byuakugen and all its secrets would be seals away in my father forever.

“Hiashi-sama opposed, but my father had always hated the Main family. He chose to die, not for his duty to the Main family, but as his duty to a brother. He felt that, by choosing this path, he would finally have the freedom that had always been denied to him. Of his own will, he chose death to protect me, Hiashi-sama, his family, and the entire village. He wanted to choose his own destiny, and he did.

“Your Genin instructor was Shiranui Genma, was he not?” he asked abruptly.

She blinked. “Yes. Why?”

Neji smirked. “He was the examiner of my match against Naruto. He told me that …Even a captured bird, if clever enough, can open its cage and break free; never giving up its desire to fly freely in the sky.”

She couldn’t help smiling at that – it sounded just like Genma-sensei.

He stared at her for a moment until she dropped the smile at last and he continued.

“But, I had always been under the belief that it was the Main family who had murdered my father, and so I had grown up hating them just as strongly as perhaps my father had. I thought our destinies were unchangeable, but Naruto proved me wrong. He gave me hope. He gave me this second chance to appreciate life,” Neji said, almost fondly. Mika saw his expression almost soften, remembering the reason behind this story. Uzumaki Naruto. “It’s something about him that can’t be described in simple words. I can’t explain to you why it is that he seems to bring out the best in people. He understands people more than anyone else. I believe because he lived for so long in loneliness, he doesn’t take the bonds he forms with others lightly. He sees everyone equally, and I think that’s what makes all the difference.”

Mika stared down at her palms in her lap for a long time. She didn’t understand the boy any more than she had to start with. But she was starting to think no one could really know what it was about the Uzumaki that made him so special. He had been lonely for so long, hated and despised. Normally, people like that would become bitter and cold, but Uzumaki was anything but. He had taken a higher road, striving to achieve and prove his worth in a village that refused to acknowledge his merit. Mika knew she was one of the many who had placed her judgment on the boy because it was easier. It was easier to judge someone than to take the time to get to know them.

“Admirable qualities,” she spoke softly, frowning. “It seems inhuman, almost.”

She wasn’t referring to the demon within him when she said that, but briefly realized it may have seemed that way. Fortunately, Neji seemed to know what she was talking about without her clarification. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Naruto, is that even when you expect the unexpected with him, he will always manage to find a way to surprise you nonetheless.”

“But I don’t envy him,” she said suddenly, looking up at him, expression hardening. Neji looked confused. “I’m not the type of person who wants to be tied down to personal bonds. I don’t believe I am strong enough to stand to lose my precious people, so I have none.”

“And your Himura friend?” He was quick, she would give him that.

“I grew up alongside her. She is the only one I trust. But I know that, at any moment, a ninja can be killed without warning. I’ve known her long enough that I would feel remorse at her death, but I’d be able to move on with my life.” She determined then that she would not bring up Ayame if she could avoid it. The Hyuuga was far too astute for her to make such allowances.

“Was it that simple to move on after your brother’s death?”

She glared. “I was a child then. It was different.”

He met her glare, nonplussed. “No. I think you’re trying to convince yourself that you don’t need relationships with other people because you’re afraid to be hurt like you were after your brother died. But it’s not that easy. And if the Himura were to die, I don’t believe it would be a simple matter moving on. You will feel pain then too. It’s inevitable.”

Scowling, she refrained from retorting, knowing that anything she would say would be a result of her sore pride. Getting up stiffly, she masked her expression with one she used for her grandfather. Her tone was cold as she bowed, murmuring, “Thank you for your hospitality, Neji-san, but I must go.”

Neji didn’t try to stop her and she left.

The first thing she did upon arriving at her estates later that day was head for Hokori’s personal library. Meiyo was out of the country as a representative of their clan in Iwa. Mika knew her grandfather didn’t care whether she took interest in his personal scrolls; it was only Meiyo who had a problem with Mika snooping through secret documents. But so long as Hokori didn’t catch her, and it wasn’t brought to his attention, he would ask questions. Usually, he let her get away with what he wanted, and in return, it was expected of her to play the appropriate role as his heir.

Placing the Uzumaki matter far from the forefront of her mind along with the Hyuuga, she remembered Itachi’s advice – or request. She was also avoiding Chizuko, who was undoubtedly angry with her. The guards at the front had told her that the Himura had been asking questions and threatening violence in her absence. It was amusing to see her best guards looking so uncertain with themselves because of her abrasive friend, but she was also mildly annoyed with the Himura’s behavior.

She wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Didn’t even know what to expect. She may have felt silly, but she had trusted the Uchiha when he’d told her she had something to learn in her grandfather’s scrolls. So, carefully, hardly pressed for time – the Godaime had placed her back on guard duty after the Suna mission, although Mika couldn’t understand why the woman had been so disturbed by her recounts of what had occurred – she had scanned through every available scroll dating back some twenty years.

Itachi had mentioned Orochimaru and she knew enough of the village’s history – though, the traitorous Sannin wasn’t someone found in the academy’s curriculum – to do the math. It saved her the trouble of searching every scroll – of which Hokori had an abundance. Narrowing her search down, if only slightly, helped ease the knot growing between her shoulders from slumping over scrolls for so many long hours.

She spent several of the following days like this, grabbing scrolls at more or less random and then taking them back to her rooms to pour over them. She had already admitted to herself this pursuit was in part to avoid the Himura – cowardly as that may have been – but she was surprised to realize she was equally hoping to avoid the Hyuuga as well. The latter she felt she could not justify. Neji had done nothing wrong. Whatever she begrudged him was unreasonable, especially when she couldn’t even seem to remember what he’d done or said to earn the cold shoulder.

The day following her talk with him, he had tried to make arrangements to see each other again at the dango shop when he’d conveniently crossed her path during her patrol shift. She hadn’t bothered with a lie – she usually didn’t when it could be avoided – and told him plainly she had no intentions to see him anytime soon. To his credit, he had not seemed terribly offended. He’d left it at that and let her be while she focused on searching for … what? She still didn’t know.

At times it was infuriating. When a week came and went, hours of sleep lost while her days were spent patrolling, it was with nothing to show for her endeavors but exhaustion. Hokori was certainly suspecting her, and she was beginning to think he would soon start asking questions as her searches led her to some darker and restricted material. He was a scientist at heart, and his study reflected that. She’d discovered some personal notes Hokori seemed to have written for himself, so she avoided those.

Overall, her findings merely led her to scrolls of the Hebizas’ many jutsus. Scrolls that described in detail how the Kurutteiru worked. And on the Hebiza themselves. Their lineage and history. She learned a lot more of the Uchihas and Senju – but nothing of Orochimaru. She wasn’t surprised, but anything on the Sannin was conspicuously vague or absent. Hokori had a volume of Konoha’s history, but that really didn’t provide her with anything usefully pertaining Orochimaru. Nothing stood out to her. no remarkable detail hidden beneath several layers of careful wording and dull anecdotes of Konoha’s founding clans - she knew well enough already of how their clan had been mercilessly robbed of their land and forced to serve the very clans who had destroyed their way of life.

Soon, Meiyo would return and then she would have to find more creative ways to continue her search.

If only Itachi had been more specific.

When she wasn’t caught up reading, her mind was occupied with just as tedious subjects. Mostly Itachi, the cause of all the madding research, and sometimes Chizuko. On occasion, Neji would infiltrate her thoughts, but by then it usually meant she’d been awake for too long and her mind needed rest. Thinking about the Hyuuga was confusing. Before, when he had only been Hyuuga Neji, her betrothed, someone she knew only as the Hyuuga Branch’s prodigy – before he had taken interest in knowing her as anything more than his intended – she had never spared him a second thought. He had been nothing more than a passing thought – if that. Now, much like with the Uzumaki, he was a mystery to her. A curiosity. Something to understand.

But unlike with Uzumaki, she had no way of satiating this curiosity.

With the all-nighters she’d been pulling, she was very nearly considering questioning her grandfather himself. She quickly realized that the deprivation of sleep must have been getting to her and waited well into her second week of mindless research before taking a much deserved break.

“Chizuko thinks you’re avoiding her,” Kazihiro said, smiling. He clearly believed this was one of those times when Chizuko was overreacting.

Mika continued to look through the selection of sushi without response, letting Kazihiro read her silence however he wanted. He was on his lunch leave – he worked part-time at the Academy when he wasn’t working with his father or with Ibiki. She’d been taking a walk around the village when she’d run into him and he’d invited her to keep him company. She wasn’t surprised to find Chizuko was the first topic to leave his lips.

“You are avoiding her. Weird.” She made her choice – spicy tempura – and he laughed as the man at the bar began preparing the order. “I mean, it’s unlike you. Did you guys fight?”

“No.” She murmured, shaking her head.

“Huh? Then … what’s wrong?” With anyone else – including Chizuko – she would have found his inquisitions annoying and prying. But it was Kazihiro, and thus, it didn’t even occur to her to change the subject or lie.

“She’s going to kill me.” It was petty, but the truth.

Kazihiro laughed. “What?”

She nodded, watching the cook roll the rice together into one long cylinder through the glass off the bar. “I went on a mission without her. Didn’t tell her. She’s going to be pissed.”

He laughed again, a loud, sharp bark of laughter. “That’s why?”

“She is, though.” She insisted.

He sobered, nodding solemnly. “Yeah. You’re right.” He was mocking her. “You could probably leave the village until she gets over this. Give her some time.”

Mika played along, snorting. “Only, that’ll make things worse.”

“True.”

“It’ll make her angrier. She’d come looking for me.”

“Hunt you down,” Kazihiro agreed. She smiled, taking the small tray of sushi from the cook and grabbing a pair of chopsticks. “It’s a little unfair, though. I don’t get to see you often enough as it is. You don’t need to punish me because of my crazy sister. And I never got to hear about your mission.”

Her face cleared as she separated each individual roll. “And you’re not going to.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Ah. Gotcha.”

“So, you never told me about your new position. I heard you gave it up.” She peered at him out of the corner of her eye, taking a bite into the first roll.

He sighed, leaning back a little in the stool. “Ah. That. Yeah. Well, that’s pretty much how it is. That position – I’m just really not cut out for it, you know.”

She waited to swallow before speaking. “You’re good.”

He smiled sadly. “But I don’t agree with what that job entails.” Mika understood. Kazihiro was a compassionate man. Torture and interrogation would be the last thing he’d want to spend the rest of his life overseeing. “They’ll find someone else. I’m sure of it.”

“You’re the best.” She knew she wasn’t going to change his mind, but decided to say it anyway.

He shook his head, and she knew the subject was dropped. “So, what’s been keeping you occupied? Two weeks is a long time and the village isn’t that big. I’m surprised you could avoid ‘Zuko for so long.”

It was her turn to sigh. She dropped her elbows on the counter in front of her, on either side of her food, and frowned. “Research.”

“Oh? What kind?” He sounded surprised.

“About …” she hesitated. “The Legendary Sannin.”

“The Sannin? Why them? There’s plenty about them in the public library. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

She frowned. “What I’m looking for … is supposed to be in my clan’s records.” According to Itachi. She was having her doubts now. But it wasn’t like she could track him down and ask for clarification. For one, if he was so easy to find, he wouldn’t be the S-Class missing-nin that he was. And, secondly … he was an S-class missing-nin, and as such, one did not go gallivanting after him without the intentions of capturing him. “So far, I’ve got nothing.”

Kazihiro hummed thoughtfully. “What exactly are you looking for?”

Mika shook her head, straightening her back. “… I don’t really know.”

That was the end of their conversation for the most part as Kazihiro seemed to sense that he was treading on personal ground. His lunch break ended, and they went their separate ways. Mika entertained the brief thought of returning to the manor, but she wasn’t entirely ready to return to the crowded desk and its many borrowed volumes just yet. Instead, she decided to continue her walk around town for a little longer. It was just her luck that, upon leaving the sushi bar, she should run into the very person she’d spent weeks avoiding.

Mika bit back a groan. “Chizuko.”

The little one-by-one inch picture Tsunade had shown him was hardly enough to prepare him. In fact, the little image, thumb-sized at best, hadn’t been able to give him quite the near heart attack seeing her in person had. Years of intelligence work – “research”, as he liked to call it – allowed him to quickly collect himself and foolishly follow her and her companion into Mimi’s Sushi Bar. Amidst a crowd of a hundred faces, hers had stood out instantly. For a moment, he had frozen, his heart constricting painfully in his chest, for it had been someone else he had thought he’d glimpsed – before he found his senses and recognized her for none other than Hebiza Mikazuki.

“You are avoiding her. Weird.” Mikazuki's companion was saying. The bar was L shaped, and while the Hebiza and the man sat at one end, he sat at the other; an inconspicuous corner where he could feign being a drunkard while carefully studying his … goddaughter. “I mean, it’s unlike you. Did you guys fight?”

Jiraiya didn’t hear her quietly spoken response, but she shook her head. Her face was perfectly blank, emotionless, but there was an ease to her eyes that seemed to warm the amber-gold irises in a way Jiraiya had never seen on similar eyes.

“Huh? Then … what’s wrong?”

“She’s going to kill me.”

The man laughed. “What?”

Mikazuki nodded. “I went on a mission without her. Didn’t tell her. She’s going to be pissed.”

He laughed again, a loud, sharp bark of laughter. “That’s why?”

“She is, though.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” The man harbored a mocking tone. “You could probably leave the village until she gets over this. Give her some time.”

The girl snorted softly, and Jiraiya glimpsed a ghost of a smile on the line of her lips. “Only, that’ll make things worse.”

“True.”

“It’ll make her angrier. She’d come looking for me.”

“Hunt you down,” The man agreed and this time Jiraiya was sure it was a smile that stole her expressionless features. “It’s a little unfair, though. I don’t get to see you often enough as it is. You don’t need to punish me because of my crazy sister. And I never got to hear about your mission.”

Her smile abruptly dropped, a small pinch forming between her brows. “And you’re not going to.”

“Ah. Gotcha.”

“So, you never told me about your new position. I heard you gave it up.” She was changing the subject.

“Ah. That. Yeah. Well, that’s pretty much how it is. That position – I’m just really not cut out for it, you know.”

“You’re good.”

“But I don’t agree with what that job entails.” The man smiled at her. “They’ll find someone else. I’m sure of it.”

“You’re the best.”

The man shook his head. “So, what’s been keeping you occupied? Two weeks is a long time and the village isn’t that big. I’m surprised you could avoid ‘Zuko for so long.”

Mikazuki sighed, dropping her elbows on the counter in front of her with a frown. “Research.”

“Oh? What kind?”

“About …” she hesitated. “The Legendary Sannin.”

Jiraiya froze. Suddenly, he didn’t think his being there, where the girl could look up at any moment and notice him, was such a safe idea. Drunkard or no. Would she recognize him? Jiraiya certainly hoped not.

The two continued their conversation and Jiraiya fell back into his thoughts fretfully. As far as he was concerned, there was only one thing his goddaughter would be interested to learn about the Sannin – and it had nothing to do with Tsunade, and very little to do with him. This thought worried him. If he were to be honest, it also scared him. As it was, from what he’d seen and from what Tsunade had told him, she was much too like Orochimaru for comfort. They shared near identical personalities, although the girl was, admittedly, much more open than Orochimaru had ever been. But that was because she’d had a brother – actual family. For at least eight solid years of her life, she’d had a loving presence to thaw the inevitable ice Hebiza are born with.

When Mikazuki and her friend finished, they parted ways. Jiraiya let her leave first before following. Exiting the bar, he scanned the afternoon crowd and for a moment feared he’d lost her – until he caught her some ways down the street, pulled aside and arguing with a rather lurid redhead. He caught up, pausing by a magazine stand near them to keep himself from drawing their attention, and listened.

“You little …!” The redhead was fuming from what Jiraiya could see of her expression; his goddaughter had her back to him, but her posture was one of utter nonchalance. “You’ve been avoiding me!” The Hebiza continued walking, and Jiraiya followed as the taller girl similarly tried to keep up with the other. She was loud, and her vibrant red hair was reminiscent of a certain other loudmouth; he wondered if Mikazuki’s friend was a native to the Whirlpool Country. “Don’t ignore me! Where were you! I thought you were hurt or something – Jeez!”

Mikazuki’s voice was barely audible, but the people around them had quieted in response to the redhead’s outburst. “… Don’t make a scene.”

“Don’t make a scene? A scene?!” It was a little too late for that anyway.

Jiraiya kept up a steady pace with the two, until the crowd thinned and he was forced to find other methods of stalking – because that was essentially what he was doing – lest the two girls notice him. A little belatedly, it occurred to him that Tsunade had mentioned something about a friend – a certain … Himura Chizuko? Yes. That was it. The single individual Tsunade believed was solely responsible for keeping Mikazuki from subsuming to the Hebizas’ ideals.



“Oh, come on. Be a man!”

The smaller boy sneered, although it was to a lesser degree, Jiraiya was proud to note. “I refuse to join you in your perverted pastimes.”

“You’re just afraid of Tsunade-chan!” he accused, leering into his friend’s glaring face. “Boy, she’s got ya whipped.”

Orochimaru merely glared, walking past him with an affronted huff. Jiraiya would him teased him further about his reaction being entirely too woman-like, but he had already given the boy a hard enough time about his femininity, as far as appearances went, that is. It was what had led him to challenge the boy to join him in his “pastime”, to prove that the other boy was as much of a man as he claimed to be – not that Orochimaru was really claiming much; for the most part, he was just ignoring Jiraiya altogether.

Fearing the boy would rat him out to Tsunade, Jiraiya threw his hands up in the air in frustration, following after him. “Aw man! C’mon! It was a joke! Get it? Ha-ha? Funny? I was kidding!” When it came to ignoring him, Orochimaru was pro. He followed the younger boy out of the training grounds, calling after him the entire way into the village whilst the dark-haired teen continued to steadfastly ignore him.

Finally, as they came to Jiraiya’s favorite restaurant, Orochimaru turned on him and scowled – it amused Jiraiya that he was one of the few who could bring about such expressions on the other boy when he only had indifference to offer to anyone else. “Don’t make a scene.”

Jiraiya returned the look. “I’m not making a scene.”

Orochimaru only glared; Jiraiya grinned.

And then Orochimaru just sighed, shaking his head, and Jiraiya knew he had won as he directed his friend to the local bathhouses.



“Okay! Okay! Fine! Don’t tell me! I don’t care! Just … stop ignoring me!”

His attention cut back to the two girls he had followed into the training grounds just outside of the Nara’s forest – near the Hebiza estates, and Jiraiya resisted a shudder at the thought of that clan. To be perfectly honest, knowing what he did now about the clan, he wasn’t all too surprised with what they had produced. Both the Uchiha and Hebiza had a record for producing murderous prodigies – perhaps a price to pay for their advanced blood. Orochimaru had been his dearest friend, even if neither of them had admitted it out loud, but at his age, Jiraiya had known nothing about the family that had taken in Orochimaru. Even now, the clan kept its secrets guarded as closely as Akatsuki.

And now Mikazuki was being trusted in the care of the same two people who had robbed Orochimaru of his sanity. Jiraiya’s eyes knew what to look for as he studied her interaction with her friend now. He recognized now what he hadn’t before in his teammate the coldness behind a façade of camaraderie. Perhaps it wasn’t a conscious effort that she distanced herself from even her closest friend. Maybe she wasn’t aware of the Hebizas’ influence on her. But it was like looking into an image of the past – she was just so much like her father, a near perfect replica both physically and in personality. It was eerie and disturbing and painful.

Hebiza Hasana had not been an exceptional beauty. She had been married previously and had born a son she named Toshimasa, after his father – but her husband had been killed during the war ensuing that same year of Toshimasa’s birth. When she became pregnant with Orochimaru’s daughter, Toshimasa had been seven. It had come as a complete shock to Jiraiya, who had never heard of Hasana before Mikazuki’s birth. He had been hurt and betrayed – although there was really no reason to feel the latter, because he had never once believed his feelings for the younger man were reciprocated. Orochimaru had named him godfather, although the Hebiza did not believe in such practices.



It was so … small.

Jiraiya blinked down at the bundle presented to him, then at younger man. He frowned, and was too shocked to form a coherent sentence. “Is … that a …?”

“An infant, Jiraiya. Yes.” Orochimaru continued to hold the tiny bundle out as if for him to take it. Hesitantly, Jiraiya did so, shooting the other harried glances as he maneuvered his arms around the silent child and brought it into an awkward embrace. Bewildered, he looked between Orochimaru and Tsunade, the latter of whom appeared merely amused. Orochimaru had only eyes for him, and said rather patiently, as if speaking to a child, “Jiraiya. That is my daughter.”

They were standing in a hospital room. Tsunade had called him due to some emergency, but upon arriving, he had only found his two former teammates and … this thing. This child. Girl. He stared down at it, vaguely disgusted by the slimy residue that remained in her thin black crop of hair, but more amazed by how tiny she fit into his arms. She felt like she could disappear into his bulk at any moment. It took forever for Orochimaru’s words to sink in. When they did, it was followed by a sharp pain that cut through his chest.

“I assisted with the birth,” Tsunade was saying, smiling. “I’ve never delivered a baby before. It was incredible.”

Orochimaru only stared at him, and Jiraiya returned the gaze, feeling as though something inside of him had shattered. Orochimaru had a daughter. Which meant … He already had someone in his life. A lover. A wife. Jiraiya didn’t know. He’d never even known his friend had been expecting a child.

Tsunade was laughing, loudly. She had probably noticed the sudden tension between the two men. “Hey, Jiraiya! Stop gaping like a fish. Say something to the new father! It’s his special day.”

Say something? What was he expected to say when his heart was tearing itself into a million pieces and his lungs didn’t seem to want to work.

Blinking away the burn in his eyes, he glanced down at the child and forced a smile. “Wow … Sorry. I’m just … I didn’t even … know. Wow.”

Tsunade laughed again. “Yeah, I was a little surprised to when Orochimaru came to me asking I deliver his child.” She smiled at the younger adult, but Orochimaru was still watching Jiraiya. “You have a beautiful daughter, Orochimaru.”

“Thank you,” he murmured; Jiraiya could feel that gaze still burning on him and wanted nothing more than to disappear. Somewhere far away from both his emotions and Orochimaru. Why couldn’t he just be happy for his friend? Why did it have to feel as though all his energy had left him, abandoning him with this hallow ache.

“Yeah …” Jiraiya tried, his voice cracking. Clearing his throat, he blinked again – and was startled when wide, golden eyes blinked open up at him from the little face visible amidst the multiple blankets. “She must take after her mother.” Whoever that is. “What’s her name? The, uh, kid, I mean.”

“Hasana’s mother decided on Mikazuki.”

Hasana. Jiraiya would have smirked, amused that his friend could still read him so well enough as to hear his unspoken question, but it only seemed to make the knife twisting in his gut dig deeper. “Mikazuki, huh? Pretty.”

“Hey, guys,” Tsunade said suddenly, placing a hand on their shoulder. “I gotta go. I need to check on Hasana-san,” she explained, directing the last part towards Orochimaru. He nodded, and Jiraiya resisted the urge to call her back. Dammit.

And now he was alone with Orochimaru and his daughter. Suddenly, his knack to escape unfortunate situations seemed to elude him. He cursed again.

“Jiraiya,” Orochimaru said after a while, when Tsunade had been gone for a good five minutes. Jiraiya was hard-pressed to look away from those mesmerizing eyes peering up at him in complete innocence that could only be comparable to an infant such as the one he held. When he managed to tear his eyes away, it was to an identical shade of amber-gold orbs.

“Yeah?”

“I’m aware I failed to inform you about … this,” Orochimaru gestured to the little girl in the taller man’s arms. For the first time, he seemed unsure of what to say. His expression belayed some uncertainty, and this allowed Jiraiya to relax, if slightly. For a moment, his broken heart was forgotten as he was reminded why he loved the man before him as wholeheartedly as he did. “And I apologize. I should have…”

The smile was a little easier to force this time, and he shook his head at the dark-haired man. “What are ya talkin’ about, man? It’s fine. I was just a little surprised. I mean, you’re the last person I expect to start a family. You’re still pretty young, ya know?”

“No, Jiraiya,” Orochimaru frowned, eyes intent. “I wanted to ask you … Would you be my daughter’s godfather?”



By the time the Himura had left the training grounds – informing her reticent friend that, while she had guard duty now, that in no way meant the other could go off and disappear for another two weeks – Jiraiya had already put himself in a foul mood. Mikazuki stayed behind, and he had trouble looking at her and not seeing his former best friend. His brother. His rival. He watched her while she stood overlooking the stone memorial at the center of the park. Seeing her standing so comfortably in her own solitude, he wondered if there had ever been a time when she had questioned her parentage. Had she ever thought about what kind of person her father must have been?

It was precisely the kind of thing that worried Tsunade.

Against his better judgment, he made his presence known to the girl, stepping into the clearing. She felt him immediately, tensing at first, and then turning slowly to regard him with expressionless features. He didn’t know if she would recognize him. She would know his name, but his face had not been seen around the village frequently for many years now and he couldn’t expect her to recognize it. When he paid visits to his old home village, it was always for fleeting periods.

“Can I help you, Jiraiya-sama?”

He was surprised – and pleased – but he couldn’t seem to be able to conjure a smile for her, and instead his expression remained grave. “Hebiza Mikazuki, right?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously in a familiar way. He wasn’t sure where he intended to go with this confrontation, but the urge to feel those eyes upon him again was overpowering. From the moment he had laid eyes on her, as nothing more but a miniature child in his arms, even despite his own broken heart, he had fallen in love with the girl. Unconditional love for the girl who shared that man’s blood.

“You know me?”

He grinned wryly. “We’ve met. You probably don’t remember me though. You were just a tiny little thing. I knew your father.”

Suddenly, he froze. What am I saying? Was he a complete idiot? Of all the people in the world, she was the last person he should have confessed that to. No one in the village knew of Mikazuki’s true parentage but the Hebiza themselves, and, of course, Tsunade. Not even the elders had an idea, too preoccupied anyway with Naruto. By the slight widening of her eyes, he realized giving her even a breadcrumb of a clue would be more than enough to provide her with the answers she sought. Mentally, he snorted. Of course. Didn’t Tsunade say she was just like him? Fuck.

Her eyes leveled on him in a not-quite glare, somehow maintaining a degree of respect. “That’s interesting.” She deadpanned. Then, her expression darkened, and she crossed her arms. “But I’ve no interest in my father. He was a traitor.”

Jiraiya swore his heart skipped a beat. She can’t know … “Oh?”

She sneered. “He left the village before I was even born. Or didn’t you get the memo?” She said nastily; Jiraiya was nearly startled. She’s just like him. Abruptly, her demeanor cooled and her scowl faded. “I apologize. That was rude of me.”

“Don’t worry about it, kid.” He paused, considering what to do about his blunder. “Sorry about your dad though. He was a good man. From what I knew of him.”

She frowned again. “I’ve heard differently.”

“I’m surprised,” he said candidly, watching her carefully. “I thought he got along well with the Hebizas.”

“He did,” she glowered. “They’ve only kind things to say of him.”

He quirked a brow questioningly. “Then I don’t get it. What’s the problem?”

She smirked, but there was no humor in it. “You obviously don’t know my clan.”