Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Artless ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: YoukaiFate 
Anime/Manga: Naruto Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Comedy / Action | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 11.24.2009 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.9K | Visits: 395 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Naruto Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Comedy / Action | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 11.24.2009 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.9K | Visits: 395 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, etc., of Naruto. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and not for profit.
Artless
A/N: I should probably clarify that this story takes place during the timeskip between the first Naruto series and the later Shippuden arc, and warn of spoilers from the manga. (Fate)
Chapter Two
Incredibly, the next time he saw her, she was trying to blow him up.
Well, maybe not him, exactly. Though the thought miffed him, that she might not have noticed him lurking in the upper branches of the tree. He was supposed to meet with one of Kakuzu’s informants, some greedy turncoat from Konohagakure who had information about the nine-tailed kyuubi. Leader had instructed them to collect all the intel they could on the Jinchuuriki. Although that strung-out cheap ass had groused over handing over the cash, Kakuzu had promised the information would be worth the time and aggravation.
It’d certainly be better than anything that old stone-face Itachi brought in, since the swirly-eyed snob seemed strangely reluctant to press anyone for information on his old village. Deidara didn’t mind going off on his own to meet Kakuzu’s man if it meant he could show that haughty bastard up.
Although the damn ANBU agent was certainly taking his sweet time showing up. Their meeting place had been prearranged, and supposedly the fool knew what he was doing. Kakuzu had said the old man he’d made the deal with was rather neurotic about his secrecy, even placing curse-seals on the tongues of his own men to keep them silent under torture. Sick bastard. Supposedly this underling of his would be able to pass on the information they wanted---for the right price, of course.
But it seemed the village elder had a few unsealed tongues wagging, for even as the masked ANBU slithered into view, Deidara heard the hollow thud of a thrown kunai sinking into the tree’s thick trunk below him. A pathetic explosive’s tag was folded around the quivering blade, and he sneered at the paltry trick even as he leapt away, knowing the tree was about to detonate.
It did, not a second later. He scowled, raising one arm to fend off the shattered leaves and twigs that showered all around him even as his other hand dug inside a pouch for the clay to make good his escape. He didn’t know how large a team Konoha might have sent after them, though it would be three or four at a minimum. Leaf-nin were so predictable. Although their standards had sunk pretty low if they were attacking with such a weak genin move like that. It was almost insulting. He was Akatsuki, after all. An S-class criminal, a missing nin and artistic terrorist of inspiring repute.
Not that they would know, of course, who he was. Leader was rather anal about keeping their true operations a secret. He wasn’t ready to reveal their hand yet. In a year or two, perhaps, they would quit skulking in the shadows and actually start to make use of the information they were gathering on the demon-vessels.
But for now, his main objective was to retreat, much as he loathed the thought of not tossing a few bombs back at the stupid ninja who had dared throw an exploding kunai at his feet. Well, not literally at his feet, since the ANBU defector had probably been the leaf-team’s target. Man, that was galling---as if he wasn’t a target worthy enough of them!
Though their stupid genin tricks were really not worthy of him. Not an artist of his talent and skill. But Master Sasori would have his head for one of his damn puppets if he stopped to give back better than what they gave. So he molded a sleek spine-tailed swift to use for his escape, alighting on its expanding back even as it spread its lengthening wings and streaked upwards, using the glittering sunlight to hide his ignoble retreat.
The thought struck him, though, that there would come a day when he might be free to take his revenge on the stupid leaf-nin. Brushing his ruddy-gold hair back with an impatient hand, he fidgeted with the scope covering his left eye. Fiddling with the controls, he focused the telescopic lens so that he could narrow in on the stupid ninjas who were even now emerging from the shadow of the trees to shake their heads and argue with each other over which way the renegade ANBU had gone.
And that was when he saw her. The girl who had escaped him all those weeks ago in the woods. The little tennyo was rather distinctive---white-blonde hair bound up in a long ponytail, her short, purple outfit both stylish and maneuverable. Although shorter than her male companions, her legs went on for miles. Good legs, strong legs, just made for running. Those legs had escaped him once before, and circumstances were letting her escape him now, but not, he trusted, forever.
For he knew that it was she who had thrown that stupid kunai, for another was clutched in her hand, a characterized tag in the other as she argued vehemently with her bottle-brush-headed teammate. Gods, she had fire in her. Just look how those blue eyes were snapping. Her ire seemed to rise as the brown-haired man gave her a bored look, and she pouted when their jonin teacher said something, waving them back into the woods, their prey having slipped away.
She paused a moment, scowling up at the sky, as if she could somehow sense him hovering up there, although the sunlight hid him well enough to her sun-dazzled eyes. He was caught again by the sweet perfection of her face---she truly was beautiful, even if she was tactically lacking for a shinobi. Throwing that stupid bomb---gods, she was weak if that was her best move. She looked old enough to be chunin, and those earrings she wore proclaimed she was. But that was a beginner’s trick, not a journeyman’s, and if that was all she was capable of, than the Leaf-Village’s standards had sunk to a new low. He could not scan her chakra---she was hiding it---but she was nowhere near his level of training or focus.
And that galled him no end, for how in the hell had she escaped him? The trap had been perfect, so perfect he still regretted the sweet masterpiece that had---literally---escaped him. She had denied him that, denied him his art, and how she had been able to, weak as she was, was something he could not let go of. He had to know, for his curiosity was more than his desire to finish that masterpiece, here and now, catching her unawares as he could so easily do. And that thought was so startling that he retreated, so consumed with the revelation that he all but forgot about his failed mission, or to memorize the faces of her team for future reprisal. And damn if that wasn’t a worse conundrum, because he was never consumed with the thought of anyone else to the point where he forgot about himself.
And that was just another score he would eventually settle with her, once he found out why it was she intrigued him so.
Ino knew she was acting the brat, but she just couldn’t leave the thought alone that she was coming up short---again. She was no match for Sakura’s stunning chakra control, and she knew it. No matter how hard she tried, Sakura was always that much better than her. As time went on, the difference between their innate skills and level became painfully clear. Ino knew she was no match for the pink-haired chunin, but she’d been using Sakura as a yardstick to measure herself against for so long, she couldn’t help it.
It did little to help Ino’s growing discomfort as that difference became more and more obvious. With Sasuke’s defection and Naruto’s departure to train with that old perv Jaraiya, Sakura was at loose ends. The Hokage had no problem with sending her prized pupil out on missions with other teams. She was the best medic-nin after all, although Ino hated admitting that harsh truth.
It just seemed that as time went on, her own abilities were not needed. And while she had the unique telepathy of the Yamanaka clan, she didn’t like to use it for reasons of her own. Ones her father couldn’t understand, even though she had tried to explain her reluctance. Other people’s thoughts could just be so overwhelmingly intimate, and Ino loathed that exposure. It was sometimes hard to separate her self from that other, and her sensitivity had grown over the years, not lessened as her father had assured her it would.
She’d hidden that fact from him, not wanting to disappoint him there as well. Bad enough she’d been born a girl, when his two best friends and former teammates had had strong sons to carry on their names and bloodline traits. Although Inoichi had never said as much to her, she’d overheard his friends and knew his acute disappointment when no other children---namely, younger brothers---had been born. She knew her mother blamed herself, and her depression over that fact had led to a strained relationship between mother and daughter. Ino knew it wasn’t her fault, but she couldn’t help but feel like it was. Adding that to all the other disappointments her poor skills were (at least, when compared to Sakura’s chakra or Shikamaru’s keen intellect or Chouji’s brute strength,) she couldn’t help but feel a creeping self-doubt she tried to ignore with sheer bravado. Ino was a great supporter of the philosophy that if you ignored something, eventually it would go away or work itself out.
Biting her lip, she brushed the tears away with an angry gesture. Damn it. Tears were useless, and she wasn’t so weak as to let others see her cry. Emotions made one vulnerable---just look how easily she could pick them out of other people’s minds! Knowing how easy it was, she would never expose herself like that. And here came Hinata, with those all-seeing eyes of hers. The Hyuuga heiress was so sensitive to others that Ino wondered if she might not have a trace of telepathy herself. Hinata was probably just good at deducing the mood of others around her. With her shy nature, she’d had to learn it as a defense mechanism to survive in her brutally judgmental family. Funny, but Ino had never thought that they might have that in common. Not the harsh family---but developing intuition as a way of dealing with others and keeping them at bay, each too wary of how those others might negatively affect them.
But Hinata was yet another classmate whose innate abilities---the Byakugan---left Ino feeling terribly inadequate, and she wasn’t about to let Hinata see how that affected her. Pasting on a bright smile---a mask that was so easy to slip into that it had become second nature---she waved airily and quickly steered the conversation into something she could control and was good at: Gossip.
“Hi, Hinata! I was just seeing Shika and Chouji and Asuma-sensei off. They’re going with Sakura to see if they can trace any sign of that rebel ANBU nin we were chasing last week. There’s rumors he’s fled to---” She paused, suddenly realizing that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to share such privileged information. She really did have to work on her tongue, damn it. But she couldn’t think of anything else right now that would distract the pretty, silver-eyed girl. Although, Ino wished she would cut her dark hair short again. The style had been adorably cute. Ah! Pay dirt!
“Hinata-chan, have you thought of cutting your hair? It’s getting so long---”
“Um…” Hinata blushed, though Ino didn’t know if it was because of her babbling or the fact that Hinata had to interrupt it. “I’m sorry, Ino-chan, but I was sent by…I mean, Shizune-san asked me to find you. Tsunade---the Hokage, would like to see you. Your father, too.”
“My father?” Ino blinked. Her look must have been too revealing, for Hinata actually reached out and awkwardly patted her shoulder.
“Yes, Ino-chan. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off---I‘m sure it will be all right---I mean…”
Quickly regaining her composure, Ino shrugged indifferently even as her mind spun a mile a minute, wondering what she had done wrong to warrant both her father and her teacher wanting to see her. “I’m not worried, Hinata! I’m sure it’s nothing! Well, I better get going. It’s not good to keep the Fifth waiting!”
She even managed a blinding smile as she skipped off. She wondered if it worked and actually fooled the girl, for Hinata looked distinctly troubled as she watched her leave.
Tsunade’s hazel eyes were grave as she paused. Ino could feel her weighing her next words, and wondered what that might mean. Her eyes flicked to her father, but he was impassive, his manner all business. This was a jonin to chunin, not father to daughter, just as it had to be in the Hokage’s office.
“Even more unique are your own abilities, the telepathic genjutsu you have inherited from your clan. The Yamanaka bloodline has served Konoha for generations, often in ways others will never know.” Tsunade paused again, sharing a look with her father, who nodded slightly. He was about to speak, but Ino cut him off, her shoulders tensing. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew damn well where this was going. She fought the sudden sick sensation in her stomach, quelling the icy trickle of fear behind an emotionless mask worthy of any ANBU operative.
Her blue eyes hardened as she interrupted abruptly, “You mean, as a spy.”
“I told you she’s not as immature as you think her,” Inoichi said, with a proud wink that did nothing to make Ino feel better. The Hokage thought her immature?
“Well, you have to admit that this is a delicate situation---” Tsunade began, surprisingly tactful for one so blunt.
Inoichi snorted. “It’s a simple mission---well, comparatively.” He fixed his daughter with a hard look. “You’ll eventually be asked to do more dangerous things than simply going off alone to spy on the suspicious activities of a small, isolated village on the edge of Fire Country. It’s still on home soil, after all. Well, at least, in territory loyal to us. And there will be missions---in the future---that will take you to places, alone, that I would not be willing to send my only child if I didn’t have faith in her abilities---no matter how much she tries to avoid using them.”
Ino flinched.
Tsunade sighed. “I know you’ve tried hard to hone your other skills, Ino, both in taijutsu and ninjutsu, but what Konoha needs is what only you, as a Yamanaka, can provide. I know you have worked hard with Shikamaru and Chouji to perfect your team’s cooperative specialties, and there is a good reason we always send the Nara and Akimichi clans with a Yamanaka if one’s available. But you need to learn to work on your own, for there will be many times we will have to ask you to do so---”
Inoichi interrupted brusquely, “And now’s a perfect time for you to go on your first solo mission. An easy test of your abilities, Ino, and an easy introduction into what will be a lot harder as time goes on and you develop your bloodline chakra. I’m hoping this mission will impress on you just how important your personal studies are. You’re not as diligent in studying our family’s chakra seals as you could be.”
Ino took her father’s pointed reproof with no expression. Tsunade cleared her throat. “Well, then, since Team 10 is off on their own mission and will be gone for several weeks, I think now’s the perfect time to explain just what it is we expect from you, and what information we are hoping you can pick up. If you leave tonight, you can be in Kotonashi in a few days…”
Deidara curled his lip in disdain. The village wasn’t even worth destroying, as the unimaginative people who lived here would just slap the same plain, utilitarian buildings back up. How could any artist, even one of such obscure repute as Kobayashi Iwao, live here? There was nothing to inspire one. Maybe that was why Iwao-san was such a hermit.
Maybe the rumors were wrong, and the great painter didn’t live in Kotonashi. Deidara was really only trying to kill time while Master Sasori went off to contact some of his jutsu-controlled spies in Sunagakure. He wished to see if Kobayashi Iwao was as great in person as some of his renowned interpretations, and since Deidara was in the general neighborhood, he had let his idle curiosity lead him to this ugly, uninspiring dump.
Kotonashi could have stood for a postcard description of middle-class Fire Country living. It was too neat and tidy. The wooden buildings lining the main street were as alike to one another as to have been cloned. Only their signs differed, or the people hanging out of them. Even the rice fields adjoining the village were laid out in precise formation, as if an engineer had designed the village, and not the haphazard growth surrounding a minor trading post.
Kotonashi had only gained importance once an uneasy peace had been struck between the five Great Villages. The obscure trading post had grown as caravans started using the old northeastern road again, instead of going the long way around by sea. It was actually a good place for a missing nin, as there were so many strangers passing through and the locals knew how to keep their mouths shut. Not that any of these pathetic peasants would know an Akatsuki, even without the cloak and conical hat Leader insisted they all wear to hide their identities. This place wasn’t big enough to boast a ninja garrison, let alone anyone who might recognize him from the Bingo Book.
Deidara sighed. It was probably true that Kotonashi didn’t boast Iwao-san either. Why would an artist of his talent bother? He certainly wouldn’t, and he couldn’t understand why another artist would, even one as secretive and eccentric as Iwao-san.
Well, he might as well get something to eat. No matter how plain the buildings, the smells wafting from the yatai beside him were tantalizing. His stomach growled, reminding him it had been a long time since breakfast. Master Sasori often complained about how often he needed to eat, but Deidara’s formidable chakra required quite a bit of sustenance. He wasn’t made of wood, like the grumpy puppet-master. Slipping into line, he paid for a bowl of yakisoba, and took his meal over to a bench outside the shop nearest the food cart to eat. The slight overhang of the shop’s upper story kept him in shadow, and thus he was in the perfect position to see her but not have her see him.
Her---the girl. The leaf-nin from Konoha. He couldn’t believe it. He even had to look around, to see if he was just seeing things, for there she suddenly was, ducking out of a building across the street. Glancing up at the sign, which divulged it was an inn, he thought it might actually be possible.
That long ponytail of cornsilk hair was certainly unmistakable, as were the wide blue eyes and uncertain pause, as if she were trying to decide where to go. Making up her mind, he watched as she disappeared among the dark-haired throng in the street. She really was short, but quick. He admired how she easily wormed her way through the crowd, finally going into some shop further up on his side of the street.
Abandoning his uneaten dinner, Deidara silently followed, his curiosity piqued. He wondered what she was doing here, in the middle of nowhere, and so far from her hidden village. He wondered if she were alone---and paused in the middle of the sidewalk to take a quick scan of the chakra in the village. He ignored the curses of the people who had to go around him---really, it was just the buzzing of annoying gnats. Satisfied that there was no one else here but him and her, he smiled.
It seemed as if this place wouldn’t be so boring after all…
Artless
A/N: I should probably clarify that this story takes place during the timeskip between the first Naruto series and the later Shippuden arc, and warn of spoilers from the manga. (Fate)
Chapter Two
Incredibly, the next time he saw her, she was trying to blow him up.
Well, maybe not him, exactly. Though the thought miffed him, that she might not have noticed him lurking in the upper branches of the tree. He was supposed to meet with one of Kakuzu’s informants, some greedy turncoat from Konohagakure who had information about the nine-tailed kyuubi. Leader had instructed them to collect all the intel they could on the Jinchuuriki. Although that strung-out cheap ass had groused over handing over the cash, Kakuzu had promised the information would be worth the time and aggravation.
It’d certainly be better than anything that old stone-face Itachi brought in, since the swirly-eyed snob seemed strangely reluctant to press anyone for information on his old village. Deidara didn’t mind going off on his own to meet Kakuzu’s man if it meant he could show that haughty bastard up.
Although the damn ANBU agent was certainly taking his sweet time showing up. Their meeting place had been prearranged, and supposedly the fool knew what he was doing. Kakuzu had said the old man he’d made the deal with was rather neurotic about his secrecy, even placing curse-seals on the tongues of his own men to keep them silent under torture. Sick bastard. Supposedly this underling of his would be able to pass on the information they wanted---for the right price, of course.
But it seemed the village elder had a few unsealed tongues wagging, for even as the masked ANBU slithered into view, Deidara heard the hollow thud of a thrown kunai sinking into the tree’s thick trunk below him. A pathetic explosive’s tag was folded around the quivering blade, and he sneered at the paltry trick even as he leapt away, knowing the tree was about to detonate.
It did, not a second later. He scowled, raising one arm to fend off the shattered leaves and twigs that showered all around him even as his other hand dug inside a pouch for the clay to make good his escape. He didn’t know how large a team Konoha might have sent after them, though it would be three or four at a minimum. Leaf-nin were so predictable. Although their standards had sunk pretty low if they were attacking with such a weak genin move like that. It was almost insulting. He was Akatsuki, after all. An S-class criminal, a missing nin and artistic terrorist of inspiring repute.
Not that they would know, of course, who he was. Leader was rather anal about keeping their true operations a secret. He wasn’t ready to reveal their hand yet. In a year or two, perhaps, they would quit skulking in the shadows and actually start to make use of the information they were gathering on the demon-vessels.
But for now, his main objective was to retreat, much as he loathed the thought of not tossing a few bombs back at the stupid ninja who had dared throw an exploding kunai at his feet. Well, not literally at his feet, since the ANBU defector had probably been the leaf-team’s target. Man, that was galling---as if he wasn’t a target worthy enough of them!
Though their stupid genin tricks were really not worthy of him. Not an artist of his talent and skill. But Master Sasori would have his head for one of his damn puppets if he stopped to give back better than what they gave. So he molded a sleek spine-tailed swift to use for his escape, alighting on its expanding back even as it spread its lengthening wings and streaked upwards, using the glittering sunlight to hide his ignoble retreat.
The thought struck him, though, that there would come a day when he might be free to take his revenge on the stupid leaf-nin. Brushing his ruddy-gold hair back with an impatient hand, he fidgeted with the scope covering his left eye. Fiddling with the controls, he focused the telescopic lens so that he could narrow in on the stupid ninjas who were even now emerging from the shadow of the trees to shake their heads and argue with each other over which way the renegade ANBU had gone.
And that was when he saw her. The girl who had escaped him all those weeks ago in the woods. The little tennyo was rather distinctive---white-blonde hair bound up in a long ponytail, her short, purple outfit both stylish and maneuverable. Although shorter than her male companions, her legs went on for miles. Good legs, strong legs, just made for running. Those legs had escaped him once before, and circumstances were letting her escape him now, but not, he trusted, forever.
For he knew that it was she who had thrown that stupid kunai, for another was clutched in her hand, a characterized tag in the other as she argued vehemently with her bottle-brush-headed teammate. Gods, she had fire in her. Just look how those blue eyes were snapping. Her ire seemed to rise as the brown-haired man gave her a bored look, and she pouted when their jonin teacher said something, waving them back into the woods, their prey having slipped away.
She paused a moment, scowling up at the sky, as if she could somehow sense him hovering up there, although the sunlight hid him well enough to her sun-dazzled eyes. He was caught again by the sweet perfection of her face---she truly was beautiful, even if she was tactically lacking for a shinobi. Throwing that stupid bomb---gods, she was weak if that was her best move. She looked old enough to be chunin, and those earrings she wore proclaimed she was. But that was a beginner’s trick, not a journeyman’s, and if that was all she was capable of, than the Leaf-Village’s standards had sunk to a new low. He could not scan her chakra---she was hiding it---but she was nowhere near his level of training or focus.
And that galled him no end, for how in the hell had she escaped him? The trap had been perfect, so perfect he still regretted the sweet masterpiece that had---literally---escaped him. She had denied him that, denied him his art, and how she had been able to, weak as she was, was something he could not let go of. He had to know, for his curiosity was more than his desire to finish that masterpiece, here and now, catching her unawares as he could so easily do. And that thought was so startling that he retreated, so consumed with the revelation that he all but forgot about his failed mission, or to memorize the faces of her team for future reprisal. And damn if that wasn’t a worse conundrum, because he was never consumed with the thought of anyone else to the point where he forgot about himself.
And that was just another score he would eventually settle with her, once he found out why it was she intrigued him so.
*~*~*~*~*
Tossing her head, Ino strode disdainfully away. Let the others in Team 10 go on their stupid mission without her. It wasn’t as if she cared that they were going on an A-class mission with Billboard-Brow while she stayed behind learning medical jutsu. Of course, Tsunade-sama didn’t have to point out that Sakura had already learned those same jutsu and that Ino still had quite a bit of catching up to do. Miss Big Boobs Hokage didn’t have to rub it in so damn much that she wasn’t half the medic-nin her sometime best friend and oft-time rival was.Ino knew she was acting the brat, but she just couldn’t leave the thought alone that she was coming up short---again. She was no match for Sakura’s stunning chakra control, and she knew it. No matter how hard she tried, Sakura was always that much better than her. As time went on, the difference between their innate skills and level became painfully clear. Ino knew she was no match for the pink-haired chunin, but she’d been using Sakura as a yardstick to measure herself against for so long, she couldn’t help it.
It did little to help Ino’s growing discomfort as that difference became more and more obvious. With Sasuke’s defection and Naruto’s departure to train with that old perv Jaraiya, Sakura was at loose ends. The Hokage had no problem with sending her prized pupil out on missions with other teams. She was the best medic-nin after all, although Ino hated admitting that harsh truth.
It just seemed that as time went on, her own abilities were not needed. And while she had the unique telepathy of the Yamanaka clan, she didn’t like to use it for reasons of her own. Ones her father couldn’t understand, even though she had tried to explain her reluctance. Other people’s thoughts could just be so overwhelmingly intimate, and Ino loathed that exposure. It was sometimes hard to separate her self from that other, and her sensitivity had grown over the years, not lessened as her father had assured her it would.
She’d hidden that fact from him, not wanting to disappoint him there as well. Bad enough she’d been born a girl, when his two best friends and former teammates had had strong sons to carry on their names and bloodline traits. Although Inoichi had never said as much to her, she’d overheard his friends and knew his acute disappointment when no other children---namely, younger brothers---had been born. She knew her mother blamed herself, and her depression over that fact had led to a strained relationship between mother and daughter. Ino knew it wasn’t her fault, but she couldn’t help but feel like it was. Adding that to all the other disappointments her poor skills were (at least, when compared to Sakura’s chakra or Shikamaru’s keen intellect or Chouji’s brute strength,) she couldn’t help but feel a creeping self-doubt she tried to ignore with sheer bravado. Ino was a great supporter of the philosophy that if you ignored something, eventually it would go away or work itself out.
Biting her lip, she brushed the tears away with an angry gesture. Damn it. Tears were useless, and she wasn’t so weak as to let others see her cry. Emotions made one vulnerable---just look how easily she could pick them out of other people’s minds! Knowing how easy it was, she would never expose herself like that. And here came Hinata, with those all-seeing eyes of hers. The Hyuuga heiress was so sensitive to others that Ino wondered if she might not have a trace of telepathy herself. Hinata was probably just good at deducing the mood of others around her. With her shy nature, she’d had to learn it as a defense mechanism to survive in her brutally judgmental family. Funny, but Ino had never thought that they might have that in common. Not the harsh family---but developing intuition as a way of dealing with others and keeping them at bay, each too wary of how those others might negatively affect them.
But Hinata was yet another classmate whose innate abilities---the Byakugan---left Ino feeling terribly inadequate, and she wasn’t about to let Hinata see how that affected her. Pasting on a bright smile---a mask that was so easy to slip into that it had become second nature---she waved airily and quickly steered the conversation into something she could control and was good at: Gossip.
“Hi, Hinata! I was just seeing Shika and Chouji and Asuma-sensei off. They’re going with Sakura to see if they can trace any sign of that rebel ANBU nin we were chasing last week. There’s rumors he’s fled to---” She paused, suddenly realizing that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to share such privileged information. She really did have to work on her tongue, damn it. But she couldn’t think of anything else right now that would distract the pretty, silver-eyed girl. Although, Ino wished she would cut her dark hair short again. The style had been adorably cute. Ah! Pay dirt!
“Hinata-chan, have you thought of cutting your hair? It’s getting so long---”
“Um…” Hinata blushed, though Ino didn’t know if it was because of her babbling or the fact that Hinata had to interrupt it. “I’m sorry, Ino-chan, but I was sent by…I mean, Shizune-san asked me to find you. Tsunade---the Hokage, would like to see you. Your father, too.”
“My father?” Ino blinked. Her look must have been too revealing, for Hinata actually reached out and awkwardly patted her shoulder.
“Yes, Ino-chan. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off---I‘m sure it will be all right---I mean…”
Quickly regaining her composure, Ino shrugged indifferently even as her mind spun a mile a minute, wondering what she had done wrong to warrant both her father and her teacher wanting to see her. “I’m not worried, Hinata! I’m sure it’s nothing! Well, I better get going. It’s not good to keep the Fifth waiting!”
She even managed a blinding smile as she skipped off. She wondered if it worked and actually fooled the girl, for Hinata looked distinctly troubled as she watched her leave.
*~*~*~*~*
“Ino, there’s a reason we did not send you out with your team today, and it’s not just that Sakura could use more field experience working with other teams. A medic-nin has to be adaptable and learn to work with many different kinds of people, because they are so rare when compared to offensive ninja.”Tsunade’s hazel eyes were grave as she paused. Ino could feel her weighing her next words, and wondered what that might mean. Her eyes flicked to her father, but he was impassive, his manner all business. This was a jonin to chunin, not father to daughter, just as it had to be in the Hokage’s office.
“Even more unique are your own abilities, the telepathic genjutsu you have inherited from your clan. The Yamanaka bloodline has served Konoha for generations, often in ways others will never know.” Tsunade paused again, sharing a look with her father, who nodded slightly. He was about to speak, but Ino cut him off, her shoulders tensing. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew damn well where this was going. She fought the sudden sick sensation in her stomach, quelling the icy trickle of fear behind an emotionless mask worthy of any ANBU operative.
Her blue eyes hardened as she interrupted abruptly, “You mean, as a spy.”
“I told you she’s not as immature as you think her,” Inoichi said, with a proud wink that did nothing to make Ino feel better. The Hokage thought her immature?
“Well, you have to admit that this is a delicate situation---” Tsunade began, surprisingly tactful for one so blunt.
Inoichi snorted. “It’s a simple mission---well, comparatively.” He fixed his daughter with a hard look. “You’ll eventually be asked to do more dangerous things than simply going off alone to spy on the suspicious activities of a small, isolated village on the edge of Fire Country. It’s still on home soil, after all. Well, at least, in territory loyal to us. And there will be missions---in the future---that will take you to places, alone, that I would not be willing to send my only child if I didn’t have faith in her abilities---no matter how much she tries to avoid using them.”
Ino flinched.
Tsunade sighed. “I know you’ve tried hard to hone your other skills, Ino, both in taijutsu and ninjutsu, but what Konoha needs is what only you, as a Yamanaka, can provide. I know you have worked hard with Shikamaru and Chouji to perfect your team’s cooperative specialties, and there is a good reason we always send the Nara and Akimichi clans with a Yamanaka if one’s available. But you need to learn to work on your own, for there will be many times we will have to ask you to do so---”
Inoichi interrupted brusquely, “And now’s a perfect time for you to go on your first solo mission. An easy test of your abilities, Ino, and an easy introduction into what will be a lot harder as time goes on and you develop your bloodline chakra. I’m hoping this mission will impress on you just how important your personal studies are. You’re not as diligent in studying our family’s chakra seals as you could be.”
Ino took her father’s pointed reproof with no expression. Tsunade cleared her throat. “Well, then, since Team 10 is off on their own mission and will be gone for several weeks, I think now’s the perfect time to explain just what it is we expect from you, and what information we are hoping you can pick up. If you leave tonight, you can be in Kotonashi in a few days…”
*~*~*~*~*
This place was boring.Deidara curled his lip in disdain. The village wasn’t even worth destroying, as the unimaginative people who lived here would just slap the same plain, utilitarian buildings back up. How could any artist, even one of such obscure repute as Kobayashi Iwao, live here? There was nothing to inspire one. Maybe that was why Iwao-san was such a hermit.
Maybe the rumors were wrong, and the great painter didn’t live in Kotonashi. Deidara was really only trying to kill time while Master Sasori went off to contact some of his jutsu-controlled spies in Sunagakure. He wished to see if Kobayashi Iwao was as great in person as some of his renowned interpretations, and since Deidara was in the general neighborhood, he had let his idle curiosity lead him to this ugly, uninspiring dump.
Kotonashi could have stood for a postcard description of middle-class Fire Country living. It was too neat and tidy. The wooden buildings lining the main street were as alike to one another as to have been cloned. Only their signs differed, or the people hanging out of them. Even the rice fields adjoining the village were laid out in precise formation, as if an engineer had designed the village, and not the haphazard growth surrounding a minor trading post.
Kotonashi had only gained importance once an uneasy peace had been struck between the five Great Villages. The obscure trading post had grown as caravans started using the old northeastern road again, instead of going the long way around by sea. It was actually a good place for a missing nin, as there were so many strangers passing through and the locals knew how to keep their mouths shut. Not that any of these pathetic peasants would know an Akatsuki, even without the cloak and conical hat Leader insisted they all wear to hide their identities. This place wasn’t big enough to boast a ninja garrison, let alone anyone who might recognize him from the Bingo Book.
Deidara sighed. It was probably true that Kotonashi didn’t boast Iwao-san either. Why would an artist of his talent bother? He certainly wouldn’t, and he couldn’t understand why another artist would, even one as secretive and eccentric as Iwao-san.
Well, he might as well get something to eat. No matter how plain the buildings, the smells wafting from the yatai beside him were tantalizing. His stomach growled, reminding him it had been a long time since breakfast. Master Sasori often complained about how often he needed to eat, but Deidara’s formidable chakra required quite a bit of sustenance. He wasn’t made of wood, like the grumpy puppet-master. Slipping into line, he paid for a bowl of yakisoba, and took his meal over to a bench outside the shop nearest the food cart to eat. The slight overhang of the shop’s upper story kept him in shadow, and thus he was in the perfect position to see her but not have her see him.
Her---the girl. The leaf-nin from Konoha. He couldn’t believe it. He even had to look around, to see if he was just seeing things, for there she suddenly was, ducking out of a building across the street. Glancing up at the sign, which divulged it was an inn, he thought it might actually be possible.
That long ponytail of cornsilk hair was certainly unmistakable, as were the wide blue eyes and uncertain pause, as if she were trying to decide where to go. Making up her mind, he watched as she disappeared among the dark-haired throng in the street. She really was short, but quick. He admired how she easily wormed her way through the crowd, finally going into some shop further up on his side of the street.
Abandoning his uneaten dinner, Deidara silently followed, his curiosity piqued. He wondered what she was doing here, in the middle of nowhere, and so far from her hidden village. He wondered if she were alone---and paused in the middle of the sidewalk to take a quick scan of the chakra in the village. He ignored the curses of the people who had to go around him---really, it was just the buzzing of annoying gnats. Satisfied that there was no one else here but him and her, he smiled.
It seemed as if this place wouldn’t be so boring after all…