Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Oblivion ❯ Aobusato ( Chapter 1 )

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

Revised: Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Disclaimer: I did not create, nor do I own Naruto, Masashi Kisimoto did and does. I cannot claim any characters of my own creation either, because I imagined them from the inspiration of Narutoverse.

Chapter One: Aobusato

The amber stone shimmered in its own haunting hue as she traced the engraved kanji with the tips of her fingers. The memorial held the name of all of those who fell in battle during the Fourth Ninja War, all who lost their life for the village. One name, Uzumaki Naruto, was one of these names on the stone and it stood out among the many other names. His name shouldn’t be there, just as the memorial shouldn’t.
“It’s been a while, huh?” She sadly intoned, letting her hand rest atop the cold stone. “So much has changed, Naruto . . . it doesn’t seem right anymore.”
Holding her breath, she clenched her hand into a fist upon the stone. Her shoulders shook as she held back her emotion, forced back her sorrow, and stopped the tears from falling from her eyes. There was no time for crying. There wasn’t even time for remembering lost friends. It was not the time for guilt of promises they fulfilled, forgot, and even broken.
To dwell in the past was to ignore the future.
Well, everyone said that her future was bright. She was smart and clever, beautiful and strong. Everything that a good kunoichi needed to be, she was. Being a ninja though, being a woman lost in a world that was slowly dying out, Haruno Sakura, felt anything but bright. To be honest, she felt dull and cold ever since Naruto died.
He brought hope to those lost, warmed the coldest of hearts, and everything he interacted with changed for the better. Naruto had that power. No other ninja could even muster such determination or heart like Naruto did.
The will of fire . . . that is what Naruto possessed. The true will of fire that still burns, even though the brightest flame it ever produced was now gone.
“Sensei? Where are you?” the soprano voice of a girl called.
Sakura instantly knew the voice. It belonged to her female student, Tsukino Haruka, a timid twelve-year-old orphaned during the war who possessed unique and destructive chakra that Sakura was still studying.
“She might not even be over here, shikome!” The loud voice of a young male shouted.
The girl growled, as a loud whack followed by a yelp from the boy to echoed after. Sakura held in her laugh when Haruka put the more tactical, ninjutsu using student, Tachibana Hike, into place. Sakura was also sure that her other male student, Miyamoto Shahoumaru, was shaking his head at his teammates’ antics. Shahoumaru was more reserved than the two with a natural knack for healing and was amazing with a bow.
“Call me ugly again, see what else I do to you, Hike-kun!” Haruka snapped. “I don’t make fun of your hair so don‘t call me ugly!”
Sakura let out a sigh and smiled at the memorial. “You wouldn’t believe how much they remind me of us back when we first assembled, Naruto. It’s nostalgic . . . ”
A soft breeze fondled her hip length, cherry blossom-pink hair as she closed her eyes again. A single tear escaped only to be quickly wiped away.
“I’m sorry.” uttered Sakura as she did every time before she left the memorial.
Leaving her guilt, her anger, and her regret behind, she quickly turned and then walked away to meet her genin team. Forcing her mind off the memories of her past, Sakura forced a smile to her face and added a happy skip to her step.
She thought about the mission that her former sensei, Hatake Kakashi, the sixth Hokage given her team. They had a good job this time. A C-ranked duty in another village, in another country, and it was just what her team and she needed. It would be a wonderful escape to get away from Konoha for a day or two. Even if the work lasted for a week that would be even better. To leave Konoha behind forever . . .  
Well, that would mean never looking back.
The market was buzzing with people of every different nation. People from the Village Hidden in the Sand were dressed in their neutral robes and kaffiyeh--a square cloth that was folded into a triangle and fastened over the head with a cord normally called a agal. They kept congregated in a group that moved like a slow drifting cloud to each station, buying only what they needed. They weren't what you would call stingy, but more on the lines of conservative. People from Sand were usually interested in fine cloth, gems and herbs. Their nation lacked spinners and weavers to make cloth, gems were scarce in their region and from the spread of postwar sicknesses herbs were on high demand.  
Those from Earth Country were interested in timber and jewelry. Their country is full of trees along with lumber yards, but every industry is competitive. In the Earth vendor’s eyes, the cheaper the product the better. Foreign jewelry always profited to those who traveled from the furthermost regions down to Earth for trade. They often stalked up on the silver and beaded jewelry that the witch Imuzumi sells next door.
Buyers from Cloud were dressed in their dark garb with hoods, and mustard yellow belts. They too slowly stalked the booths and tables of vendors. They weren’t interested in finery like most buyers. They were interested in larger bulk merchandise and precious metals. Currently though, the two men were interested in what old man Jinriko was selling. Why someone wanted to buy two hundred barrels of pickled radishes, Ichikita Yousuke, hadn’t even a clue.
“Are you just going to sit there, and watch everyone pass by, brother?”
Not even moving from his pose, Yousuke simply said, “Yup.”
A smile creased his lips. He knew his younger sister Hazuki had probably just balled her fist on her hips and was sternly staring at him with her royal-blue eyes. He loved to down right piss his sister off. It helped pass the time, and hey! What were older brothers for?
“There are things to be done ya know.” stated she, “Crates that need moved, stocking, helping!”
Yousuke nodded, keeping his hands behind his head, and feet popped on the counter as he uttered, “Yup.”
Hazuki in a fit of rage smacked the back of her elder brother’s head as she shouted, “Get off your lazy ass and help, Yousuke!”
Setting up in the chair, he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his head, making his sun-yellow hair messier.
“I swear that you do this just to agitate me!” Hazuki grumbled as she picked up a crate.
Standing and stretching, he said, “Yup.”
Hazuki shrieked and shoved the crate into his stomach, only causing him to laugh. She stormed off into the back of the stand and busied herself with the evening orders.
“Go find Momo-chan you moron!” Hazuki ordered.
Watching her, Yousuke wondered if that were how their mother was when she was alive. Not the bossy sister-attitude that Hazuki possessed, but the ability to multitask and keep everything running so smoothly that it seemed extraordinarily simple, when in reality it wasn’t. Mother had to be like that. Yousuke couldn’t quite remember.
Hazuki had taken the full burden of becoming the motherlike figure of the family from an early age. She cooked and cleaned, made sure everything was in working order, and that they had clean laundry. Hell, she even made sure they washed behind their ears and eaten all their dinner.
Dad was always busy with his work and wasn’t around often, and Mom she was . . . well she died.
Yousuke moved the crate of tomatoes to the front of the stand. He scanned the area, only for his deep blue eyes to land on a small petite figure. With her peachy-blond hair pulled up into a bun and wearing a sky blue kimono, Momo’s cheeks were blazing red. She smiled rather shyly at the boy talking to her. It was odd to see someone talking to Momo being that she didn’t talk at all. Not since their mother died. Momo wasn’t exactly talking though. She smiled, nodded, shook her head no, and done her usual methods of communication with sign language. What surprised Yousuke was that the boy clearly understood her. Even her makeshift sign language.
With vibrant orange hair the boy stood out among the crowd. His eyes were a deep green, and matched his dark brown and hunter green sleeveless judogi. He had to be around Momo’s age, she being twelve.
“Momo.” Yousuke called, watching her attention instantly direct to him, along with the boy’s. “Did you find a new friend?”
Vigorously she nodded with a bright smile on her face and peachpit brown eyes glistening happily. She quickly signed, “His name is, Hike. He is from Fire Country!”
“Oh, cool.” Yousuke said as he began to refresh the bins of Roma tomatoes. “We don’t ever get that many people from Fire Country here! I mean we are soo, far away from the border . . .  ”
Flatly, Momo signed, “Don’t be sarcastic, brother.”
Within merely a second, a fast blur of green and white appeared. Yousuke dropped his crate as he watched the flash move toward Momo. Only ninjas moved like that. He stumbled toward his youngest sibling, fear raced through his veins, icing his blood. If only he was fast as them and not so damn slow!
“NO! MOMO!”
Momo’s eyes widened when the blur reached her. Wind rushed into her face, and the blur was suddenly at her. Hike suddenly slammed hard into the ground. The Ichikita siblings were expecting to see a shadowy ninja. Neither Momo or Yousuke was prepared to see a girl with bright acid green hair wearing a white haori to be the ninja. The girl’s haori reached her upper thighs, had long widening sleeves tapered with pink, along with the matching neon pink leggings, obi, head band and gloves. The girl stood over the fallen orange-haired boy glaring at him.
“Idiot!” the girl screamed, with her hot pink gloved left hand clenched at him. “Sensei said not to wander off! We’ve been looking for you for an hour now! She‘s waiting back at the inn!”
Hike wiped the dribble of blood from the corner of his lip and proclaimed, “But there is so much stuff here! Don’t you know that this place is legendary?! No one comes to Aobusato and doesn’t buy something! This is one of the largest trading posts near Fire Country!”
“That may be, but we’re not here for trade, Hike. We’re on a mission.” A boy said, calmly walking up to the two.
He kept his dark hair pulled up to a rat’s tail at the nape of his neck and his violet eyes were indifferent.  He wore all white: hakama and haori-a traditional shrine keepers’ garb. Upon his back draped a blood-red bow that was missing its drawstring.
“Ah, come on, Shahoumaru.” Hike groaned. “You know you want to explore this place too!”
“Perhaps after our duty is complete, sensei will let us have a day and wander the village, but for now we have bigger things to attend to. We are supposed to be meeting up with the county’s headman. We can’t do that if you are out running around, Hike.” Shahoumaru calmly said. Turning to Yousuke and Momo, who now hid behind her elder brother. Shahoumaru bowed and said, “I apologize for my teammate’s antics. They can become rowdy.”
Yousuke muttered, “Whatever. Just get lost from here.”
“Hey, what’s your problem anyway?” Hike grumbled, crossing his arms.
“You’re ninja.” Yousuke plainly said. “We won’t deny any customer, but I won’t tolerate shinobi loitering before my stand. I don’t care if my father is a diplomat. If you’re not buying something, then get lost. Now.”
Hike was about to retort only for Haruka to slap her hand over his mouth. She said, “We understand, sir. Sorry to be of inconvenience.”  
Haruka and Shahoumaru dragged the angry boy away, while Momo‘s shoulders stooped sadly. Momo liked him. He was kind and didn’t think she was weird. He even understood her.
“Oi, get that puppy look off your face, Momo-chan.” Yousuke mumbled, ruffling her hair, accomplishing fully to demolish the bun. “Ninja boys are no good. They’re bad.”
“He wasn’t bad.” Momo stubbornly signed. “You’re the one who keeps telling me that not all shinobi are bad.”
“True.” Yousuke said, “but you know how Hazuki is. She hasn’t had a good dealing with them, and unlike us, ninja frighten her. I can’t protect Hazuki from her fears if you bring stray shinobi home, Momo-chan. Even if they are children, they are still, ninja. They are still dangerous.”
Momo sighed and nodded in submission. She untied her hair and let it fall past her shoulders as she wandered into the shadows of the stand. Yousuke went to refilling the barrels of fresh Roma tomatoes as another group of traders approached.
“We have egg plant, for only one ryou! Get some fresh peas, only two ryous a bushel!”
Yousuke spun around. He watched as the traders continued to shuffle through his produce and paid no heed to his competition, Tsubana Goro. Goro was an annoying little(or more less big) bastard. From a quick analysis of the ambitious twenty-five-year-old, Yousuke could see spite and simply jealousy in Goro’s almost squinted shut, dark brown eyes.
Goro considered them rivals, while Yousuke considered them . . . well nothing.
In school, Goro held the highest seat until the end of the semester when Yousuke took his seat for the rest of their school days. Yousuke became a better student, better at languages, simply better at everything while Goro slowly further declined and bottomed out. Things became worst after they imprisoned Goro’s father’s. Tsubana Morano once was Sawa no Satos’ diplomat and part of the High Council of noble families, only for that title to be stripped away around six years ago. Yousuke’s father now became Swamp Country’s diplomat, already being one of the High Council and of noble blood. Ever since then, Goro has done all he could to bring Yousuke down, yet seemingly always failed.
“Evening, Goro-san.” Yousuke called, waving as he smiled. “Cutting your prices again today?”
Goro cursed, holding an eggplant at his rival as he said, “It’s only ‘cause of your old man that you get such good business, Ichikita-sama. Mark my words! One day I’ll reclaim my family’s status--”
“Drop that sama crap, Goro. It’s really agitating.” Yousuke plainly said, scratching his cheek thoughtfully. “I deal with only the best of imported plants and produce, and it is the best--it has nothing to do with my father. My fruits and vegetables are home grown--organic. I can‘t help that people like my green thumb and rather buy locally than your imported produce rejects that are over a week old. Look at that eggplant you’re holding. It’s rotting.”
Goro’s face reddened as the eggplant he held threatened to burst. He suddenly threw it. Yousuke ducked. A gasp sounded and something fell to the ground. Cautiously he turned, only to see Hazuki slowly rise from the ground, eggplant creamed on her face and in her hair. Her aura heavily flooded the area.
“I swear to Kami that it wasn’t me!” Yousuke quickly said, holding his hands out before him in defense as he backed away. “Tsubana-san threw it, and I ducked out of the way--”
“Move.”
Instantly Yousuke obliged. “Please don’t use the exports, Hazuki! Think of how much they cost! And to waste them on Tsubana-san? D-Don’t . . . don’t be rash about this! Put that down! Be gentle! You . . . You‘re a girl! Girls aren’t supposed to--”
Enraged, Hazuki threw what she picked up with amazing speed and accuracy. Before Goro saw it coming, the coconut implanted into his face. He oofed before a pineapple crammed into his chest, followed by a slew of over ripe tomatoes.
“Bastard!” Hazuki growled, her shoulders tight and her eyes scowled dangerously. “It’s going to take at least three days to wash this smell out of my hair!”
“It took two years to grow that!” Yousuke cried, looking at the pineapple that currently sat splattered on the ground. Looking at his sister he whined, “You have no heart!”
“Quit playing around and start packing things. We’re going home. We’re done for the day!” Hazuki grumbled, flicking eggplant from her hair.
She stalked to the back of the stand, forcefully closing the curtains behind her. Momo’s small form quivered as she had a large smile on her face from silent laughter. The peach-haired child bagged some pears and namesake for a customer who wearily watched the scene. Most of their customers were used to some type of exchange between the Ichikitas and Tsubanas. It was simply normal.
Yousuke sighed. “Gees, she’s such a b--”
“I dare you to say it, Yousuke. I dare you.” Hazuki’s voice drifted from the back room.
“What?! I said, she needs a dog, that's all!” Yousuke quickly countered, his smiling face causing Momo to laugh. “Come on, Momo-chan. Let’s get this done before she blows another socket and pulls out the bull whip. All we need is to end up like my poor fruit. They didn’t deserve such a fate.”
“You’re so funny, brother.” Momo signed, her form jerking from what should have been laughter, only no sound vibrated from her at all.


Japanese Words
Kunoichi: flower girl (or something in that sense), female ninja
Shikome: ugly female
Judogi: judo uniform consisting of a loose jacket secured by belt and loose pants
Haori: loose fitting shirt
Hakama: loose pants
Obi: belt

Japanese Name Meanings
Tachibana Hike (wild orange, fiery hair)
Tsukino Haruka (moon field, far away)
Miyamoto Shahoumaru (base of the shrine, archery)

Ichikita Yousuke (market place by the tree field, sun harbinger)
Ichikita Hazuki (market place by the tree field, leaf and moon)
Ichikita Momo (market place by the tree field, peach)

Aobusato (green leaf village)

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