Foreboding Omens
Footprints dent the trodden grass below me, someone has killed this patch of greenery and I am the culprit.I pace back and forth, my movements erratic and restless, like a caged animal. Naruto or Sasuke. Those are the thoughts I am subjected to.
Before I made my appearance during the Chunin Exams, my path was clear: Sasuke was to be my muse. He was perfect for shaping. Driven by angst and an insatiable hunger for power, he was the kind of student who would absorb anything that benefited him. I could offer that—my guidance, my knowledge, my strength. It would have been perfect. Yet, just as I thought I had it all figured out, I found myself ensnared by the potential of another young aspiring ninja: Naruto Uzumaki. A child of destruction, as I and many others have labelled him. The son of the Fourth Hokage, a member of the Uzumaki clan, and the vessel of the Nine-Tailed Fox. The boy’s power was a double-edged sword, bringing both fear and contempt to the village. Some wanted him gone; others wished to exploit him as a weapon. I found myself among the latter.
“Lord Orochimaru- some water?” Kabuto offers a glass of water to me, quirking a brow at my new found habit. “Have you come to a decision yet, my Lord? The shinobi are becoming anxious, and the longer we wait the more difficult this process is going to become.” He concurs.
I sip the water, feeling the coolness slide down my throat but painfully reminded of the complications that lie ahead. “Kabuto, I have come to a decision. Let the shinobi wait no longer; it is time to extract that which is mine.”
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I pout, my frustration bubbling over like an erupting volcano.
“ How come Stupid Teme always gets the cool job! It Isn't fair- I could have fought those ninjas just as good as he can and you know it Kakashi-Sensei!” I exclaim. We had just returned to the Village Hidden in The Leaves after a long, action packed week of work. Since the Chunin exams and the loss of the Third Hokage missions had hardly been scarce; there wasn’t a single noble in the Land of Fire who planned to travel without the help of some handy-dandy ninjas. I wasn't complaining, it was the best opportunity I’d been given in a while to show my skills (Which are most certainly better than Stupid Sasuke I'll have you know!), that was, if Kakashi let me do anything. Ever since Sasuke had received that strange tattoo, it was as if Kakashi constantly wanted to monitor Sasuke and have him fight more than me! It was completely absurd.
“Naruto, we’ve been over this.” Kakashi’s voice is painfully monotone, as if he’s reciting a script. “You had an important role too—making sure our guest was protected. Without you and Sakura there, a bandit or another ninja could have attacked him.”
I roll my eyes, this had to place in the top ten lamest excuses he had ever used.
“He's right, Naruto. Besides, Sasuke is far more capable of fighting those ninjas than you are—he has the Sharingan, and you’re just… well, Naruto,” Sakura chirps, stopping midway to ogle Sasuke like he’s some kind of divine being. “Isn't that right, Sasuke?”
“Hn.” Sasuke hums, turning up his nose to Naruto. What a snob. I stick out my tongue at the said dark haired snob before resuming my pouting.
I turn my back to the trio, changing my focus to some of the nearby stores in order to distract myself from their nonsense. I was just as strong as Sasuke, I was sure of it- I was sure everybody thought so by now; apparently not. I huff in exasperation, continuing in silence while the noises of the bustling village filled our conversation instead of myself for a change.
It had been some time since I voiced my opinion about our last escapade. Sakura and Kakashi had taken up a meaningless topic while Sasuke and I trudged along like puppies. Yet, something felt off. The village was louder today, the shops busier, and everyone seemed to be in a rush. I glanced at my teammates, hoping they’d notice the change; if they did, it wasn’t evident. It felt off in the same sickening way you sense a storm brewing in the distance, with the tides pulling back as if nature itself held its breath. Something dreadful was on the horizon, and I was the only witness.
We parted ways once we reached my apartment, Team 7 had continued on to drop off Sakura; who lived just down the street from me. I feel uneasy, it was like my studio apartment was no longer mine. I couldn't describe the feeling if I tried, it was awful. Typically, I would look to my peers for comfort on a day like such, but in the spirit of our last conversation, I didn't dare. I wasn't ready to be put to shame like that again, it was far more awful than whatever queasy atmosphere had settled over the room. It is now that I find the subject of malaise, three loud knocks on my door puncture the silence of the apartment. I trod quickly, “Who is it?” I holler. My hands are quick to reach the doorknob, when I fling the door open and let it swing in its frame I am met by… Iruka?
“Naruto, hi! I was just coming to say hi- I know we haven't talked in ages, since you were in the academy really.. And I missed you, you were always such a good student. It's just good to visit, y’know?” Iruka spits out the sentence quickly, and I'm not fully convinced his pauses were met with breaths.
I nod enthusiastically, Iruka was always great at dispelling tension, had I any luck maybe the feeling of anxiousness would dissipate. “Yeah- how about Ramen! I can always talk over ramen!” I encourage. “Just wait here- I think I left my wallet by my bed.” I huff, swinging the door on its hinges once more. It was weird, Iruka wasn't a spontaneous guy, and he most certainly wasn't a spontaneous guy without a scar running down his nose. I frown, Granny Tsunade hadn't said anything about bringing her medical skills into aesthetics- maybe Iruka had begun testing out makeup products? It sounds equally unlike him, but who am I to judge?
I leave the apartment complex, trailing just a few paces behind spontaneous-makeup Iruka. I can’t shake the feeling that we’re standing on the brink of something significant. As we make our way towards the best ramen shop the village has to offer, I steal glances at the villagers around us. There’s an energy in the air, a tension that feels palpable.
Maybe today would be a day of surprises after all.
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“Didn't think you’d be back here so soon.” Kakashi's words break the silence between Jiraiya and himself, each syllable weighted with unspoken concern.
“When I heard the news, I couldn't just keep dilly-dallying.” Jiraiya responds, pinching the bridge of his nose with his big tanned fingers in concern. The lines on his forehead deepen, revealing the burden of worry he carries. “So what? Do we think Naruto is playing some type of sick joke? He certainly would if he knew I’d come all the way out here to look for him.” Jiraiya adds, the frustration in his voice palpable, mixed with a hint of disbelief. He was fully aware of some of Naruto’s attention-seeking habits; it wasn’t his fault. He had no parents to pay him any mind; he had to be seen by others to feel comforted. Unfortunately, this running-away stunt wasn't new; he had pulled it on both parties numerous times. But this time was different. Both ninja were sure of it.
“We think it’s a little bit more complicated than that.” Kakashi’s tone is somber, and he pauses, letting the weight of the situation hang in the air. Kakashi’s eye meets Jiraiya's, and they both understand the depths of the situation and the seriousness this challenge presents. “Come on, I’ll explain on the way.” He gestures for the fellow white-haired shinobi to follow him with a flick of his hand.
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“The hell do you mean Naruto is gone!” Sasuke shouts, his voice ringing out across the playground, a stark contrast to the playful laughter that usually fills the air. The swings creak eerily in the breeze, and the bright colors of the slide seem to mock the tension brewing among them. Sasuke never shouts.
Kakashi watches the raven-haired boy emphasize his distress. His usual calm demeanor shattered as he yanks at his hair. Sakura is entirely still, as if the world stopped spinning to match her horror. Initially, he wasn't sure how his students would react to the news; the trio had always had a unique chemistry. Sasuke and Naruto could only be described as the most persistent rivals Kakashi had ever seen. Meanwhile, Sakura had often maintained a safe distance, caring less about where Naruto ended up—as long as it was far outside her six-foot radius of personal space. But now, in the face of potential loss, the cracks in their relationships are painfully evident.
Kakashi steps forward, raising a hand to interject, but the weight of his own uncertainty stifles his words. “Sasuke, I know this is hard—”
“Hard?” Sasuke’s voice rises, slicing through the air like a kunai. “You think this is just hard? We dropped him off here yesterday. Yesterday, he was fine—he was here.” He spins away, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turn white.
Kakashi sighs deeply, his visible eye drifting toward the remaining pink-haired kunoichi. Her eyes are trained on Sasuke as he storms off; she is crying. She is completely still, her breath hitching as quiet sobs escape her lips, muffled by her hands, which cover her mouth like a desperate seal.
He’d been afraid of this; in fact, he wasn't entirely sure that telling them was the right idea. He could have lied—he could have told them Naruto was reassigned to a different team; they might have been relieved. But this was too painful for either of the young ninjas to process. Kakashi was sure he’d be reprimanded for the emotional distress rising from both of his students.
“Sakura. Are you going to be alright?” His words are the anchor she seems to depend on. She turns her head to look at him, his voice bringing her out of whatever trance she had been lost in. She nods, ready to speak, Kakashi is sure of it. Her voice must have caught on her tongue; she remains silent and slumps into her stance. “We're going to find him. I'm sure of it; we already have some very special ninja on his trail,” Kakashi mentions, trying to inject a note of hope into his voice. He moves closer to her, offering a side hug that feels clumsy yet necessary. She sobs, hard. Whatever she had been holding back in the presence of her crush has long disappeared. She is ill with sadness—snot and tears cascade down her face like a waterfall.
“What are we supposed to do, Kakashi-sensei? We can't just wait here; my parents—they're going to be so angry…” She sobs even harder (if that were even possible), her words choked and sliding through her mouth like rocks. “And... and Sasuke can't protect Naruto if he's gone!” she exclaims, resuming her crying. Kakashi draws circles on her back, hoping to soothe the kunoichi’s whines. He pretends to ignore the comment about her parents; he knows of her background. The situation with her parents is less than desirable. Of course, it isn't nearly as unfortunate as Naruto's and Sasuke's, but the girl certainly isn't living a fairy tale.
“It's going to be okay, Sakura,” he sighs, releasing her from his hold. “I think there is someone you should talk to about this.”
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“Well, Sakura, I have to say Naruto’s girlfriend is the last person I would have expected to come and see me.” Jiraiya laughs, his attempt to lighten the mood cruelly dispelled. His attempt at humor hangs in the air, a fragile bubble that bursts with the harsh reality surrounding them. It had been about a week since Naruto had gone missing, and there hadn't been a word of good news since then.
“I'm not his girlfriend.” Her brows furrow over reddened turquoise eyes; whatever shy girlishness Kakashi had described as her personality is long gone. Jiraiya frowns at her cold disposition; he isn't necessarily close with Kakashi’s other students, but even he can tell she is different than normal. “I want you to help me find him,” she states, her hands rattling at the side of his bureau. He winces as small dents become apparent in the hardwood (he was sure Tsunade would kill him; breaking one of the many desks in her office was only speeding up the process).
“Sakura,” he says softly, “I know you want to find your teammate—hell, I think everybody does. But this, this is a mission for Jonin, and they are doing their best to find him; we can't just send out everybody who wants him back.” He attempts to explain, feeling as if he might be talking to a wall—a very strong and cold wall.
The words hang between them, heavy with unfulfilled hope. Sakura’s eyes narrow, frustration boiling beneath the surface. “You think I don’t understand that? But I can’t just stand by and wait! What if he’s out there alone? What if he needs us?” Her voice trembles, the fierce façade cracking just slightly, revealing the fear that gnaws at her insides. Jiraiya watches her, sensing the tumult of emotions swirling within her. He remembers Naruto’s unyielding spirit, the way he would charge into danger without a second thought, and he realizes just how deeply they are intertwined.
“Okay.” He looks around the room, ensuring nobody can hear the words he is about to say. “I will help you, if—and only if—you promise not to do anything irrational.” He promises, his conscience begging him to take back his words as he recites them; he is certain he will regret whatever decision he makes today.
The pink-haired kunoichi stumbles back into her chair, breathing a sigh of relief. That was quite possibly the only answer she had planned to accept today. “Good,” her breath is steady. She had not been entirely convinced that her coercion plan would work; fortunately, Jiraiya was not the stone everybody had thought him to be. “When do we start?” she adds, staring at him earnestly.
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Sasuke yelled. He screamed. And he punched.
Each blow against the training dummy felt like an attempt to strike out the frustration that boiled within him, a tempest of rage and confusion. His vexation grew with every passing moment as he waited—waiting for what? He wasn’t entirely sure. It was unfair, really. Unfair that Naruto, the loud, reckless idiot who had somehow become his closest rival, was gone. Naruto had been on the team to help Sasuke reach his full potential, or at least that’s what he had always told himself. What other reason could there be for the useless moron’s presence, if not to aid Sasuke’s success? And now, with Naruto missing, he felt the weight of solitude crushing him.
It didn't help that he was on the training grounds alone. The training grounds that the four of them had claimed only about a year prior to Naruto's absence—just a week ago, he and Naruto exchanged ‘friendly’ banter here. Now, it was just Sasuke, just Sasuke exchanging blows with a wooden dummy with pathetic whiskers painted on its pathetic cheeks.
He huffed in exasperation, his hands bloodied and bruised, remnants of the fight that had become both his refuge and his torment. His vocal cords strained, raw from yelling and from expressing anger that felt all-consuming. It felt like hours had passed, yet the sun hung stubbornly in the sky, indifferent to his pain. The world around him felt frozen, as if time had conspired to mock his suffering.
As he lay there, breathing heavily, the sun began its slow descent, changing pace from its timeless movement before, casting long shadows over the training ground.