Saline

Chapter Four: Kids with Guns

Chapter Four: Kids with Guns

Hitomi sits idly on the edge of the training grounds, taking momentary comfort from the shade of the tree she sits under offers; picking her nails and watching Naruto spar with one of his clones. It’s tedious, watching Naruto train because that’s all she ever does. Watch Naruto train. Under numerous encounters has he advised her to do the same. But his requests fall on deaf ears. She no longer holds the interest. Naruto’s attempts are futile. 

She has never meant to become friends with the hyper-active ninja. Not really. He had been the only one from their class who did not graduate that year and Hitomi had felt bad, nothing more. But ever since her team had died in a gruesome incident (Hitomi’s nightmares becoming more abundant than ever), Naruto has seemed to attach himself to her. And for all she’s worth, Hitomi has no desire to rid of him. He reminds her of warmth, the sun; Hitomi is tired of the cold she is so prone to cling to as of late. At least with Naruto around, she doesn’t have to think of dead teammates or of how empty she is. 

“You can’t keep doing this, y’know.” Naruto insists on what she can and cannot do. Hitomi insists that he takes more baths. “I thought you wanted to be amongst the greatest kunoichi in the village?” 

“Childish dreams for children.” She’s grown tired of this conversation. 

“I don’t think it’s childish,” he pouts. Hitomi’s fond of the way his bottom lip juts out just slightly in hopes that he’ll get his way, with his eyebrows furrowed. However, it does nothing to persuade her. If anything, she’s grown rather resilient to the world around her—immune to the treachery of human nature, to those trying to bend her will to theirs. 

She did miss the feeling of a katana in her hand, however. The feeling of chakra flowing through her veins, manipulating it to do as she wished. Hitomi hadn’t trained in weeks. 

It felt like a lifetime. 

“You could be great.”

“I could have been,” she corrects, tiredly. 

“What changed?” She tries to hide the way she cringes. Tries to hide the shaking in her hands. Everything, she wishes to tell him. What hadn’t changed? She felt sick every time she even thought about touching a kunai. Every time she even looked at one. “You’re too young to give up so readily! Too young to throw your life away!” 

“I’m not giving up,” she sighs. “I’m moving on.” Hitomi’s tired of having the same conversation. 

Naruto argues more, does his damnedest to persuade her. But it’s been weeks. And if she hasn’t given up now, she never will. 

“I can’t do it, Naruto.” Her voice is softer. Not as emotionally detached and cold as it’s been for a while, now. Naruto grows still with anticipation. “I can’t watch my comrades die. I barely knew them, but there was the notion that I someday might. I would have been their friend. That if hurts more than you will ever know.” 

He’s quiet for a while and Hitomi thinks that, maybe, they’re done. That she won’t have to keep having this conversation over and over again. The thought leaves a longing behind that she doesn’t quite understand. 

“You’re a ninja. Kunoichi of the Leaf Village, whether you like it or not. You knew what you were signing up for.” Naruto’s voice holds more contempt than she’s ever heard. “People die. And I’m sorry that it was Team Thirteen that died. But you can’t let their death stop you from living—you can’t let it kill you too!”

“I do—“

“I see the way you watch me when I train, Hitomi. You miss it.” 

She did miss it. She missed it so much that there was a longing in the tips of her fingers, a wholeness to her body that she did not like. Almost as if she missed the soreness her muscles would take on after a day of training or the bruises that decorated her body, discoloring her skin. A feeling she certainly never thought she’d miss. 

“How long has it been, Hitomi?” Too long. 

Quickly, she snapped out of the nostalgic reverie she had been wading in, jumping up from her spot on the ground. “I have to go.” Hitomi offered no explanation as she ran away, not stopping until she reached the Hokage Tower. 

“I’m ready to talk about it.” Her hands grasped nervously around her shirt, entangling her fingers deep within the material. Nervous habit she had not been able to break from. 

The Hokage sat behind his desk, almost completely hidden by the stack of paperwork that sat in front of him. His hand hovered above a document, completely taken surprised by Hitomi’s entry, as she gave no warning before walking in. “You’re lucky the others aren’t here, for they would have given you hell for coming in without knocking—close the door behind you, if you will.” Hitomi did as she was asked, shuffling deeper into the room and sitting across from the man. 

Hiruzen Sarutobi was a kind old man, a fine leader. Generous, if you will. Compassionate. He was like the grandfather she never had. A peaceful protector of the village. She liked his eyes. 

He patiently waited for her to speak, shuffling away important documents that were not fit for her eyes. Hitomi thought, for a moment, she saw the flash of the Uchiha symbol stamped to one of the papers. But she wasn’t sure. Nor did she much care. Her nerves were on end. 

“I’m sorry—“

“Take your time, child,” he smiled. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

It took Hitomi no longer than thirty minutes to tell her story. 

*

wow junior year is kicking my ASS i am so sorry wowwowowo.