3 Chapter 3

I desperately wished it would be the first time that ever happened, while I held my breath and dived beneath the water surface. The cool water stung in my face and nearly ripped the breath in my lungs away, but with all the hard-earned control I could muster, I managed to keep everything inside my lungs, before emerging again from the water, gasping for fresh air and feeling the warm spring breeze softly caressed my wet skin.

My gut feeling proved to be awfully right, once more. Only one day laid between the two meetings; one whole, calm, blessed day of recovering from the sudden intrusion of my privacy and another dreaded social contact. This time, it was midday and I was busy preparing a rabbit I had caught this morning for a soup I could hopefully serve alongside some bread.

To train myself, I only watched the knife how it carefully cut apart the legs from the body, opened the stomach, only for the organs to fly out on their own when I peeled them out of the dead rabbit. My bare arms were folded beneath my chest, shoulders tense from the concentration and my feet, covered by my slippers, tapped subconsciously onto the ground in a steady rhythm. Coincidentally, it matched the rhythm of the knife slicing through the rabbit.

That's when another knock at my front door caught my attention.  With a low grunt, I lowered the knife to the wooden cutting board and threw a glare at the front door. First the shinobi only two days ago, and now again a disturbance? It better be something important.

When I looked later on back onto the happenings of that time, I could only shake my head at the incident. I should've checked the surroundings, should've made sure not the same group of shinobi were standing on your doorstep. After all, the chance of them returning was quite high still. But I didn't check and like this, I opened the door a tiny bit, only to be faced with the same masked face of the stupidly grinning man.

He raised his hands for a tiny wave. "Hey," he said, "Nice to meet you again. Is it possible to talk to you a little bit?"

The audacity! I gritted my teeth, the jaw aching from the force I put into it. "No. fuck off I'm not present."

"You look pretty present to me."

"Your eyes fool you. Now, excuse me, I think I made myself pretty clear the last time you tried to lie to me. Fuck off and take your little group of scoundrels with you." With a sharp nod, I pointed at the three teens in his back, maybe only 13 years of age. I noted that the blond boy who was stupid or brave enough to just reach into a bundle of fire vine, still had his hands in white bandages, obviously still burning and sulking.

His lower lip jutted out and big, blue puppy-dog eyes hit me when the boy noticed I was looking at him. Quickly, I concentrated again on the man right in front of me, who went over to rub the back of his neck with a gloved hand. "What are you waiting for? Go away. You're blocking the doorway."

I wanted to close the door, to shut these people out of my life and entire existence, but there was suddenly a relentless grip on the door itself and I couldn't move it for my dear life without using my gift. Desperately, I tried to pull at the barricade, all the while the stranger held without breaking into a sweat onto the wood, not taking his far too intense eyes off me. "I'm not exactly seeing a little queue forming here to enthusiastically greet you. Measured at your behavior last time, it is more of a common sight than not. And we have a reason."

"Yeah!" The blond boy spoke up, fiddling at the same time with the bandages. "We want to know how to treat my hands!"

"They are treated!" I snapped at him. "I'm pretty sure you were in the village a few miles away! I recognize the bandages; the village doctor uses this knot all the time!"

The pink-haired girl — Sakura, I remembered — shook her head, her arms crossed in front of her chest and the utter annoyance on her face telling even more about her and her personality than her words. "He's bad at his job. I swear, he does dental inspections with a pair of dirty tongs and an ice pickle."

Close, but not quite. I squinted my eyes at her when unwilling respect for her medical knowledge welled up inside of me.

"Nevertheless, you're not welcome here. And I would appreciate it if you would get lost, like, right now. You're making me speak far too much."

The children looked at me like I was some kind of strange entity they found while exploring a dark, deep cave. The adult in their middle though seemed to be just as chipper and friendly as ever, but I couldn't miss the small hint of steel in his voice when he raised his words again.

"Unluckily, the doctor said he didn't have the necessary herbs for this kind of treatment. And, interestingly enough, he was the one to tell us to go and find you again, all of it with a fearful voice. Is there something shinobi of the fire country should know about?"

"As far as I know," I hissed back and heard the fire crackling louder as a reaction to my inner tension, "shinobi of Konohagakure have no concerns with the way how the poorer villages deal with their sick and injured ones. It's the fault of the government anyway that every dumb idiot can call themselves doctor as soon as they acquired some clean scalpels and hand sterilization. They should put up some controls, but no!" Frustrated, I threw one hand into the air. "It's more important to discuss about the trade agreements with the other countries and their little mind games they play all day!"

"Interesting view," the man interjected, still not releasing the door and still smiling underneath his mask (I could only estimate, measured at the wrinkles around his eyes, one of them horribly injured once, measured at the vertical scar crossing eyelid and skin), "But we're not only here to properly treat Naruto's little injury. We have a mission and personally, I think you can help find our objective."

In the background you were aware of the disbelieving "We're not?" and the hissed "Not now!", but foremost, your entire concentration was now on the shinobi. A mission? And he thought I could help?

Of course. Of course, he did. Probably, the doctor also ran his mouth about my gift and told about the wonders I could do and conveniently forgot to mention the many, many times I had fallen ill after an extensive task.

Probably, he only wanted to get these annoying people off his back and figured I was the right person to be bothered by them.

Out of anger, I squinted my eyes. Raw acid boiled up in your stomach, rose into your throat and made you nearly gag, but you controlled the urge to spit out, directly in front of the feet of the imperious shinobi. Even though he deserved it.

But he apparently noticed your rage. Concern seemed to flash over his masked face, before the man put up some more walls, preparing himself for the impact of my words. "I'm done helping people. I'm done jumping whenever someone wants me to. I'm not interested in helping anyone, I just want my peace and solitude. If you have any kind of respect and sense how to treat other people — and I heavily doubt that — then leave me alone, once and for all. Next time, I will defend myself from any unwanted advances. So, for the last forsaken time. Leave. Me. Alone!"

Subconsciously, I reached for my gift. The eyes of the man widened when he felt the first swirls of raw energy. But before he could react, he flew backwards, pushed and shoved away by the force of my wind. The teens screamed out in surprise when they saw their leader flying through the air, spinning around until he was able to land on his feet.

Not that I was watching. Quicker than they could even blink, I slammed the door shut with a very satisfying loud, resonating thud, vibrating through the whole house. The glass of my windows sung in a high, unnerving tone and the pots neatly arranged on a horizontal shelf above the kitchen counter started to rattle, shaken by my emotions. Only barely, I managed to regain my usually so tightly sealed control.

One breath in, two breaths out. One breath in, three short breaths out. The monotone yet changing rhythm, the fresh air and the conscious rise and fall of my chest did the trick. Slowly, oh so slowly, the fire in my belly died down and with it, the rattling of the pots and the crackles of the fire.

These people will be the death of me.

Useful for their mission? What does that mean?

Why didn't Doc come to me and tell me that he's short of herbs? We have an agreement.

Same reason as always. Too damn proud.

That means he will send me a message in a week or so. Have to be prepared. Collect herbs, make gels, brew potions. It's spring, so I have to make more of the wound balm and prepare for wound infections. Have to make a list of what I need desperately. Spring means more field work. Spring means fresh produce. I really have to go to the village soon.

An unwilling shudder crawled over my back. Going into the village… Meant so much more than just a walk and hauling the goods back into my solitary home. I didn't even want to think about it, nevertheless, my eyes glanced at the ominous darkness beneath my bed, where a small box waited, maybe the size of a compact melon. Every time I had to go that place, every damn time, I had to open this box. Subconsciously, I grimaced, before shaking my head at my own foolishness.

Tiredly, I dragged my hands over your face. This week was utter shit. Too many people, too many words had left your mouth. I just wanted to enjoy the solitude in the depths of the woods, why couldn't people just respect that?

Speaking of people. This time, I actually checked the meadow in front of my hut and the bad energy from one of them hurt to the roots of your teeth. A deep, hollow ache, making me grimace and massage my jaw, all the while you softly pressed my ear to the wood, trying to listen to their heated debate going on.

Thankfully, these shinobi didn't seem to understand the very description of their job. Be secretive and silent.

"What are we doing now, Kakashi-sensei?" The blond boy spoke, the same loud, booming voice echoing over the clearing and scaring the birds off the trees. "Are you alright?"

"Maa," the smooth voice hummed, "I'm fine. Nothing to worry about."

"What was that? Did he actually attack you?"

"No, not at all. It wasn't a jutsu either. More like…" The man fell silent, apparently deeply in thought. Then, he seemed to regain his composure. "Doesn't matter. For starters, we can set up a camp right over there. It's getting late and it's not likely he will open the door for us today."

"He's pretty rude, isn't he?" The girl, Sakura, said. "But…"

"We still need him." A new voice. Probably the silent, pale boy who could use some hours in the sunlight. "There's no way around it."

"Exactly." This Kakashi spoke again. "Now, let's go, before even more curious listeners turn up."

I needed a few seconds to realize what he meant with that. Then, the coin dropped. He knew I was eavesdropping on their conversation and just called me out on it! Instantly, i jerked away from the door and stared at the wood with all the detest I could muster, and that was by no means a small amount.

I disliked the man even more when I heard the weak and still pleasant chuckle from the other side. These damn shinobi! Camping on my meadow and making fun of you at the same time?

A grim smile flashed over my face, before I turned to the small kitchen to prepare the rabbit further. But this time, I dug my own fingers into the dead meat and worked the sharp knife into the body, cutting through flesh and bones and tendons. The edge hit every time with a very satisfying 'clank' the wood of the cutting board and soon, my wrist started to go numb from the force and aggressiveness I put into my movements.

I didn't care. My mind was elsewhere, planning and forming and plotting little inconveniences for the unwelcomed guests which would make their time in my proximity the most unpleasant stay they ever had.