Fight
To Be a Kunoichi
Canteens and water filters in tow, Naruto sets off due north. She moves quickly, not using chakra, but still far outstripping a civilian’s pace. Fifteen minutes later, she is at the river bank.
Kneeling in the sand, she carefully fills the first part of the filter, avoiding scooping sediment into the bottle. She runs water through the filter once, twice, three, four times, until all the canteens are full. Filling the filter a fifth time, she flips up her mask and squirts the water directly into her mouth. She’s parched, lips cracked and painful, mouth dry as bone.
Then, she removes her arm guards - still stained reddish-brown with oxidised blood - and sets them aside. She peels off her gloves, dried blood pulling unpleasantly at her skin and leaving behind dark black flakes. Her nail beds are stained.
Next, she slips off her sandals, taking time to unwrap the strips of once-white cloth that hem her trousers. She pops the buckles on her flak jacket and shin guards and removes them, too. Next are her trousers and sleeveless shirt, leaving her in only her bra and underwear.
In the light of day, she takes stock - there is a massive, yellowing bruise covering most of her left thigh, from a particularly punishing fall. It should have been long gone by now, at the rate Naruto usually heals. On her bicep is a healed, fresh scar, and her ribs ache. She carefully runs her hands over her body, feeling for any poorly-healed breaks or fractures - her body repairs itself quickly, which can sometimes be more a curse than a blessing.
Satisfied, she deposits her shirt and trousers in the shallow, sandy part of the bank, stomping back and forth over them until the water stops running brown. She rinses them in a deeper part of the river and wrings them out, hanging them over a nearby bush to dry. In the autumn, the days were hot and the nights cold, so they will dry quickly.
She reaches behind her head, feeling for her sharpened, plain kanzashi, and pulls out one side, then the other. Her hair is tacky and refuses to fall down completely - Naruto leans her head down between her knees and tries to run her fingers through it. They catch on something grisly and still-damp.
She hasn’t cut her hair in a while, and it tumbles past her waist. It can’t remain like this - out here, it will only be a hindrance. Pulling it into a low ponytail with a spare strip of cloth, she selects a kunai from her holster and holds it just above where she has tied it. In one smooth motion, Naruto cuts through her hair. Red flutters down around her, and she lets the river carry it away. It flows south, carrying her hair, and any evidence of her survival, far away from their intended destination.
Then, she slips off the last of her clothing and wades out into the deep part of the river, where the current threatens to take her off her feet. She takes a deep breath and plunges under the water, feeling the water flow through her short hair. She surfaces for a moment, gasping, even though she was not submerged for more than a moment. As she slips under the water a second time, she lifts her legs off the floor, completely suspended in the flowing river. She surfaces again, pushing her short hair out of her face and pressing her palms against her eyes, her vision blurring, heart pounding. She dunks herself a final time.
Under the water, Naruto screams.
West
Shisui is awake when Naruto returns. She almost cries with relief.
There are more practical things to take care of - she distributes water, and food, planning to start Shisui on a standard course of ten doses of antibiotics, a preventative measure. All too soon, the three of them are staring at the ground, unwilling to speak to one another lest the words flow, and don’t stop.
Naruto glances over them, from Kakashi’s cracked mask, to Shisui’s wounded face, to Tenzo’s unconscious body in between them, and her chest feels tight, constricted.
“The Hokage is dead,” she whispers.
“You don’t know that,” Shisui argues back.
Kakashi crosses his arms over his chest. “Naruto’s probably right. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
“We have to assume that we’re under kill-on-sight orders, now,” says Naruto. “We need to take our time with this. Two of us are in no condition to walk, let alone fight, and two of us -” she hates to admit this, “- are exhausted. I can’t - I can’t do anything without rest.”
“No!” Shisui bursts out. “If you’re right, Naruto, then who knows what the situation is back home? We need to get back to Konoha, and fast.”
It’s understandable. Were Naruto less tired - had she slept in the past two days, if every bone in her body didn’t ache with exhaustion, if she didn’t feel the acute sense of shame and failure that washed over her every time she laid eyes on Shisui’s scarred face, perhaps she would have reacted better, remembered that of the four of them, Shisui actually has someone to return home to. But she hasn’t, she doesn’t.
“Don’t be stupid,” she snaps. “We’re deep behind the border of Stone - one wrong move and we’ll bring Iwa down on our heads. We cannot afford to be incautious.”
“Stop it, you two,” says Kakashi. “Shisui - Naruto’s right. We have every reason to assume the worst, and we can’t afford any mistakes. We don’t know what’s been ordered, or what’s going on in Konoha. But, Naruto - we’re Konoha shinobi. We can’t abandon our comrades, our village. Getting back west, across the border, needs to be our first priority.”
Naruto grinds her teeth and glares at the ground. “But, are we?” she asks, voice low and rough.
“Are we what?” Kakashi’s voice is hard,
Naruto lifts her chin and meets Kakashi’s eyes.
“Are we still Konoha shinobi?” These are dangerous words, she knows. But they must be said - it was Konoha nin who attacked them, Konoha nin who tried to eliminate Kakashi’s and Shisui’s sharingan. Konoha nin who had tried to drag her from her teammates.
Konoha nin whose blood she had washed her hands of.
In another team, those words might have been a death sentence. But Kakashi only avoids her gaze.
“We made our choices,” he says.
Did we?
Anger
Hound was shouting, on the other side of the door.
Naruto had been sent outside by the Hokage, but not dismissed. She stood frozen, nose an inch from the dark wooden panels of the Hokage’s office door.
“She’s my soldier, now!”
Naruto curled her toes and clenched her fists.
“How am I supposed to protect her, if she doesn’t know the first thing about the kyuubi?”
A picture is starting to come together. A thousand things Naruto had ignored, written off, misunderstood. It’s like looking at one of those blobs of colour people like to paint, fuzzy and abstract. Then you take a step back and the picture snaps into focus.
“Would she have known if something was wrong with the seal? Would she have known if the kyuubi tried to influence her?”
She couldn’t hear the Hokage’s replies, soft and measured. She doesn’t need to.
“Why didn’t you tell her?”
Naruto thought about her downstairs neighbour, whose wife and children had died to the kyuubi’s attack.
Naruto thought about the wild eyes of the man who had grabbed her by the shoulders and shaken her, hard, just over a month ago.
Naruto thought about the Yondaime, still openly mourned nearly ten years later. Konoha’s greatest, beloved Hokage, slayer of demons.
Naruto thought about Bear.
The door swung open, and there was Hound, posture taught as a bow-string, as threatening as it was possible to be - and there was the Sandaime, her jiji, implacable behind his desk.
“Leave us, Hound.”
Hound stalked past, escorted on both sides by the Hokage’s guard.
As Hound’s footsteps receded behind her, Naruto wished that the floor would open up and swallow her whole. She wished she would wake up, and this would be a dream. She wished that she was someone else, anyone else, underneath her mask.
“Fox,” the Sandaime began, and then broke off. “Naruto. Remove your mask and take a seat. There are things we must discuss.”
Naruto felt her body move - her fingers unhooked the wire of her mask, her feet carried her over to the chair in front of the desk - but her whole body felt strange. She felt as if she were underwater, that her jiji’s face was looking down at her from the surface of an ocean, far, far away.
She didn’t speak. She didn’t dare - if she asked one of the hundred questions swirling around her head, it would become so very real. The Hokage spoke anyway.
“The night you were born, the kyuubi no kitsune attacked the village. You were told that the kyuubi was killed, but it is impossible to kill a bijuu. They have no physical bodies, they are constructs, beings of chakra and intent.”
Naruto gripped the sides of the chair so hard she couldn’t feel her fingers.
“So, the Yondaime sealed the kyuubi no kitsune in the body of a newborn baby - that baby became one of this village’s greatest assets. Who would attack a village that wields the might of the kyuubi? Do you understand, Naruto?”
Naruto didn’t understand. Still, she nodded jerkily.
“I’m sorry for how you found out. Hound should not have - he will be dealt with.”
Naruto stood, in a rush. The chair scraping backwards echoed throughout the room. Distantly, Naruto felt something sliding down her face. Was she crying?
“Am I dismissed?” she whispered, fingers curling around her mask.
The Hokage stared at her for a long moment. “Don’t do anything foolish, and don’t tell anyone of this conversation. Do you understand?”
Naruto took a step back, and lifted the mask to her face.
“I understand, Hokage-sama.”
Monstrous
To the end of her days, Naruto couldn’t have said how she got back to her apartment that afternoon. She didn’t remember even a second of the journey. Nothing about her felt real, like she was dreaming. Her body moved without her input.
It was just that one moment she was leaving Hokage tower, and the next, she was standing in her apartment, staring at her hands. They were covered by her black gloves, her grey forearm protectors. Underneath, she knew, was unblemished skin, blood, bone. Were these hands hers, in truth?
She wondered if the kyuubi saw what she saw. She wondered if these hands belonged to it as much as her.
She wondered if these hands belonged to her at all.
She felt like the walls of her one-room apartment were closing in on her. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted out, out of this apartment, out of her skin, out of this village. Out of this - this thing she has been made into. This thing that she is.
Her uniform was suffocating her. Naruto’s fingers shook as she unbuckled her armour, flinging her mask across her bed in a sudden fit of anger. Her few sets of civilian clothing were less restricting but no less intolerable.
It was intolerable, to look down at her body and see Naruto. But it was equally intolerable to be Fox. She bolted out the door as soon as she had finished changing. She wanted to get away, get out, run as far and fast as she could.
Out on the street, Naruto raised her head up high and met people’s eyes as they went past.
Before, the sight of fear and disgust, of people parting around her like a school of fish made her look down, away, ashamed. A man looked away as she made eye contact, nervously veering away from her. He was afraid. Was he right to be? Did he fear a demon was looking back at him? Was a demon looking back at him?
She used to resent it, the distance between her and others. Teachers never touched her, never corrected her stances or ruffled her hair. Her classmates had only touched her when they had to - there was no hand-holding, or hugs, or games of tag for her. She wondered now if they were right to keep away. If the demon inhabiting her could hurt others, if they got too close.
Abruptly, Naruto realised that she was standing in front of a particular grocers’ near her home. When she had first moved into her apartment, years ago, she had tried to frequent it - but the owner, a middle-aged woman, had banned her from the store, at one point employing her adult son to chase Naruto away.
She had lost a daughter and a husband to the kyuubi, Naruto remembered. She had heard someone on her floor say so, in the days leading up to the anniversary of the attack - in the days leading up to Naruto’s birthday.
A kind of cold, unearthly calm washed over her, then, and for the first time in two years, Naruto crossed the entrance into the store.
For a few moments, she stood, looking over bins of onions and carrots and squash, and nothing bad happened. A demon did not spring from her body and set the building ablaze. She did not scorch the earth where she walked, and she thought of nothing except the fact that she was nearly out of her favourite mint tea.
Then the owner spied her, and went rigid.
She’s afraid of me, Naruto thought distantly.
“You!” hissed the woman. Matsunaga-san, she remembered suddenly. “How dare you come back here.”
Naruto didn’t move. Her daughter and her husband, she thought. Matsunaga-san is looking at the thing that killed her daughter and her husband.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. How could she not be? She didn’t want this. How could she ever want this?
Matsunaga jerked back like Naruto had struck her, eyes glittering, cheeks bearing two bright red spots.
“What did you say to me, girl?” she snarled. It should have sounded angry to Naruto, but it didn’t. Matsunaga was - afraid, and grieving, and didn’t Naruto show her teeth when she was scared?
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, louder.
“You’re sorry? You’re SORRY?” Matsunaga was screaming, and, spurred into action, she surged forward and grabbed Naruto by the collar. “Get out! How dare you come back here?!”
Naruto let herself be pulled out of the store, stumbling. Matsunaga pushed Naruto forwards, and, carried by her own momentum, she sprawled across the road. The hard pavement tore at her palms as she landed. It hurt - the pain made Naruto feel real again, solid, as the world spun around her.
“How dare you say you’re sorry,” Matsunaga’s voice broke off at the last word, choking. By that point, a small crowd had gathered to watch the commotion.
Kitsune, she heard someone whisper. Demon.
Naruto wondered if the kyuubi heard Matsunaga cry. Did it remember her husband, her daughter? Did it feel guilt?
Her palms began to burn, scrapes healing over before blood can even begin to run down her hands.
Why do you heal me? Do you hurt when I hurt? Naruto thought. And to her horror, something deep, deep inside of her uncoiled in answer.
Stupid girl.
Naruto scrambled back, away - from what, she wasn’t sure. Matsunaga was still advancing, something vicious and terrible in her expression.
“How dare you,” she said, voice quiet, “I’ll show you sorry.”
Naruto raised her arm above her head instinctively, bracing herself for a blow that never came.
“I’ll handle it from here,” said a familiar voice.
And there was Cat, standing in front of her, blocking her view of Matsunaga.
“No need to be upset,” he continued, “I’ll take care of her.”
Matsunaga gave her assent, sounding so tired and defeated that Naruto’s heart clenched. Cat pulled her to her feet, turning her hands over wordlessly. Dirt and blood smeared her palms, still tacky, bright red - but there were no wounds.
“Come on,” Cat murmured. “Let’s get you home.”
Teeth
Cat followed her back to her apartment, silent all the way. When she arrived, the door was ajar - she hadn’t closed it or locked it behind her as she left. She hoped that nothing had been taken while she was gone, as people normally avoided her corner of the building like the plague.
Cat followed her inside, taking off his shoes at the door. Naruto felt a hysterical laugh bubble up inside her at the sight - the polite shinobi, masked, in uniform, tanto strapped to his back, barefoot in her kitchen.
Apart from her jiji, he’s the first visitor Naruto ever had.
“Do you - do you want tea?” she asked, remembering her manners.
Cat inclined his head, and Naruto busied herself. She only had one mug, she realised belatedly, and her small teapot would only hold enough water for one person. She decided that she would just have to drink out of her bowl.
Several minutes later, they were both seated around her tiny kitchen table, Naruto clutching her bowl of mint tea tightly between her hands. Cat pushed his mask aside to take a sip. He was, under the mask, an ordinary man. Young - as young as Shisui, with dark circles under his eyes and a determined set to his jaw.
“We were worried you might try to do something stupid,” he said, peering over the rim of his mug. “But I’m not sure what, exactly, you were doing.”
Naruto shrugged. She wasn’t sure either.
“Fox -” he broke off, “- Naruto, were you going to let that woman hurt you?”
Naruto ducked her head, ears burning. “No - I mean, I don’t know - ”
“You don’t know,” Cat repeated, disbelieving. “You’re a shinobi, Naruto. You can’t go looking for trouble - you can’t refuse to defend yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, clenching her fists underneath the table. She had the sinking feeling that she had done something very, very wrong. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Cat’s tone was gentler, now, “even if you don’t want to admit it. Don’t think we - don’t think I haven’t noticed, how you act around other people. You avoid eye contact, you stare at your feet. You let your peers insult you, let them walk all over you. You don’t even try to fight back. Your first day on our team, you were so vicious that you bit Hound-senpai. Where did that girl go?”
“No,” said Naruto, a lump rising in her throat. “You’re wrong.”
She thought about Bear, about Matsunaga, about hiding behind her teammates in the tunnels, about running, about hiding.
“You’re Konoha’s jinchuuriki, Naruto. You can’t let people take advantage of you. They’ll never respect you, if you don’t fight back. I know you can, for god’s sake, you used to outwit shinobi ten years’ your senior, for what? Giving you a bad grade on a test? Picking on you during spars?”
That’s not true, Naruto wanted to reply. She thought that if she started talking now, she’d cry. She couldn’t bear it if she cried in front of Cat, who was ever impassive, ever professional. It was against ANBU code of conduct.
Cat sighed, then looked away. Naruto was grateful to not feel the weight of his accusatory stare. Then, he leaned forward, slowly, like he was trying to approach an alley cat and didn’t want to get scratched.
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he said softly. “Just - tell me if this sounds about right.”
Naruto stared at the floorboards and counted the knots in the wood.
“Once, there was a little girl who was very, very lonely. She lived by herself, and took care of herself. People on the street wouldn’t meet her eyes, or say hello as she went past. She couldn’t make friends at school because parents told their children to stay away. Sometimes, people would be more than rude - they would be cruel. She didn’t know why, and it made her angry. So she would lash out, and hurt the people who hurt her.
“She had a grandfather, or something like a grandfather. He noticed that she was acting out, and worried that she would begin to hurt others. So he found a place where her talents would be useful, where the things that got her in trouble could become her greatest strengths. She didn’t want to mess things up, so she kept her head down. She didn’t react when she was insulted, anymore, or try to defend herself.
“Then, she found out that there was a reason people treated her that way. Perhaps not a good reason, but a reason. She felt betrayed, she felt guilty. She wondered if she ought to let people treat her that way, if she deserved it.”
Naruto’s eyes blurred, and she hiccupped, choking down a sob.
“You’re off-duty, Naruto,” said Cat, softly. “It’s okay to cry.”
And Naruto did. She put her face in her hands and she wailed. It was the horrible, ugly kind of crying where she couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t speak. The kind of crying that takes over the whole body, painful and raw.
“I - don’t - understand!” she sobbed. “I don’t understand why - this - is - happening!”
Cat sighed. “I can’t tell you why this happened, Naruto. I can only tell you what to do about it.”
After a few minutes, Naruto ran out of energy. Her voice was scraped raw, her eyes burned, and she felt like she had run miles. She looked up and met Cat’s eyes.
“What should I do about it?”