1.9
My plan failed. Somehow.
It had been about a week since my visit to the Hokage office and delivery of my secret message to Kakashi-sensei. I expected him to show up the same night, maybe the night after. But no dice. That complicated things a lot if I still wanted to intervene with Shisui’s death. One thing for certain, I was running out of time.
I had seen some very hard working people trying to map the time-line of Naruto. No easy feat, when the anime contradicted the manga, which was debunked by the so called Databooks. I had no idea yet which universe I got thrown into. Although at the end of the day, the changes were minimal, and only noticed by those who had a hard on by details. That was never me. I just liked knowing things, didn’t mind the occasional inconsistency.
Some of those time-lines, or even other stories, made it seem like there was almost no time at all between Shisui’s death and Itachi killing his whole clan. A more detailed analysis made by a madman of the fandom listed the events by year, which put Shisui’s death in the first semester of the first year of Emosuke’s academy days. It was the fourth month already. The guy could die at any time, any moment.
Now that my self imposed task was over, I changed my training routine. Wake up, run before breakfast. Prepare food for school day. Go to the academy. In the evenings, I started to practice taijutsu, and chakra control. Sticking multiple objects beneath my clothes while I did other things. Let me tell you, it was hell. But I was getting the hang of it. I also changed my no chakra policy. I was sabotaging myself. Taking inspiration from all those cultivation novels, I decided to try something else. After the hard exercise, in the moments of rest, I circulated chakra in my body. I didn’t know if it would help, I hoped it would strengthen my body, raise the baseline strength.
But back at the pressing matter, I was considering maybe writing a letter, hide it in Sasuke’s belongings. That was a horrible plan, I didn’t even know if Sasuke would give the letter to his parents, and I would be an immediate suspect.
I shook my head. Sweat poured from my forehead, armpits, my back. I always thought those old people practicing Tai Chi with their slow movements had it easy. Now I’m trying to replicate the Hyuga clan katas, moving slow is hard, harder than it had any right to be. I looked around, it was dark already.
The path back to my apartment wasn’t long. I still couldn't lose concentration, I had four coins — ended up going with the coins anyway — stuck beneath my clothes and I didn’t want to lose money. I got home, took a shower. Too tired to eat, I laid on my bed. I pushed my chakra to circulate in my body, strengthen my aching muscles. Reinforce my bones. No idea if it worked, but as they say, it was the intention that counted, And I was very intent focused.
Time passed. I might have fallen asleep. I wasn’t sure. But I was awake now, and something wasn’t right. I didn’t move. Kept my breathing slow. Tried to pretend I was still sleeping. There was a bundle of chakra inside my apartment. It burned cold, indifferent. It wasn’t one I have ever felt before. I would know. They were by my bed.
My heart pounded. It was a miracle the intruder didn’t heard it. A finger touched my forehead. Chakra flooded my brain. The world turned hazy. I was so tired, sleepy. What was I thinking just now? Something inside me stirred. My own chakra surged. It slurped on the intruding energy, like a fat kit slurping spaghetti. Messy, icky, oh so tasty. I gasped. I punched, kicked, flailed wildly.
There was a muffled sound, something hit me in the head, hard, painful. It hurt even more when I hit the ground on a strange angle. My arm bent on a way it wasn’t supposed to. It hurt so much, I wanted to cry.
There were other noises inside my apartment. Another bundle of chakra. I heard painful grunts, steel piercing flesh. Iron smell on the air, water dripping nearby. It hurt too much. Darkness engulfed me again.
I opened my eyes again. I was somewhere else. Not my apartment. I was on a bed, blanket covering me. My arm hurt, but not as much as I expected. I sat down. My whole arm was in some sort of casket. Huh. I looked around. A plain bedroom. Soft beige walls. A shelf. Books. Few other decorations. It didn’t look like a prison.
A door on the other side opened, in walked Kakashi-sensei still wearing his ANBU’s uniform. We stared at each other. He turned around, walked out of the room. Returned a moment later with a chair. Placed it by my bed. Sat with his arms draped on the back of the chair like those cool guys from school. Sooo cool. I forgot the pain for a moment. Had to hold down a mute squeal of joy.
“You wanted to talk.” He stated.
I looked around. Didn’t see my board anywhere, nor anywhere else I could write. I shrugged. Wrote on the air. “What happened?”
Kakashi-sensei stared at me for a long moment. “Someone tried to kidnap you,” he drawled, “again.”
Right, I could have put that one together. That was what I get for asking dumb questions. I shouldn’t waste this opportunity. I wrote in the air again. “Who kidnapped me the first time?”
“We don’t know for certain.”
I nodded. That made sense. Even if I thought I should have asked who they thought kidnapped me. I still had another question, one that would turn my gamble to a certainty. “The lab you found me in, did it belong to Orochimaru?”
Kakashi bolted up. Growled. “How do you know that name?”
I raised my one good hand in surrender. Raised the broken one as well when that didn’t work. I didn’t move. Better not provoke the paranoid ninja any more. Kakashi prowled the room. Even from behind the mask I could sense his glare. A minute later, he sat down again. But his posture was tense.
I seized the initiative. “Is this place safe? Private?”
Kakashi got up again. Walked to the walls. Slapped a sealing paper on them. Activated some sort of barrier. He sat down. His stare was ever harder. “Now it is.”
I nodded. You see, ever since I first saw myself in the mirror, I had the sneaking suspicion the snake, pun intended, was involved with my kidnapping. I mean, come on. Who else in the Naruto world was obsessed with learning all the jutsu, human experimentation, and had a hard on for anything dojutsu out there? Did I even need to mention the freaking snake pupil in one of my eyes?
But now was the hard part: Selling the lie. I wrote in the air. “I’ve been having dreams.” I looked at Kakashi for any response. I took a deep breath, this was stressful. “In my dreams, I’m not myself. But someone called Orochimaru.”