5 Chapter 5

I liked the quiet, the tranquility and peace. Weeks could go by and the only companions would be the trees and my herbs. Not even my own voice disturbed the peace of this part of the forest, except for the occasional humming to the sound of the rustling leaves.

It was the solitude, the honest nature of the fauna around me. Nothing here was physically able to speak, thus, nothing should be able to bother me. Such a simple quotation and so goddamn sweet.

The sensei still continued to talk, even though I ignored his words as much as I could. "She was completely in awe at the herbs you have here. Couldn't stop rambling about them yesterday evening. By the way, what did you cook? It smelled delicious. Definitely better than the dry ration-packs we had."

Desperately, I closed my eyes. No, this voice wouldn't get to me. Not today, not anytime.

"And Naruto, I swear. Like I mentioned, he complained the whole evening about his hands being itchy. Sakura didn't stop yelling at him for scratching them whenever he had the chance. Even went as far to take the bark of some trees around and scratch his hands that way."

Out of instinct, I winced. A bad idea on the boy's part. Even though it would achieve some temporary relief from the fire burning right beneath the skin, it would only force the tiny thorns deeper into his flesh, making taking them out even harder. It was potentially even dangerous if they stayed in too long, nerves could be damaged and-!

Again, I shook my head. No, this was not my concern. My concern was my loneliness, not the boy's hands or that I liked how the smooth voice was silent and strong at the same time, something my mind appreciated deeply after all the loud voices I already bore in my life. They weren't my problem, just like the itching hands wasn't my problem and the annoyance at the probably loud discussions going on inside the small camp a few meters away from my hut wasn't roblem, even though the shinobi was adamant on making them my problem.

Just when I thought that, a warm chuckle broke my chain of thoughts. "I have to say, usually I'm the silent one, so it's quite a change to be the active part in a conversation for once. A pleasant one, to be completely honest."

To me, he seemed rather chatty. Talking about this and that like there was no tomorrow. And this Kakashi-guy was supposed to be a non-talkative person? Really? In disbelief, I snorted out loud before I could control my urges.

A grave mistake.

"Aah." The man chuckled again, low and pleasant. "So, you're listening. Good. I was doubting if you didn't already put in some earplugs or something. And, I couldn't help but to notice that I don't know your name yet."

My name. This time, my rebellious mouth released a click of your tongue, more annoyed by his question than flattered, like he probably intended. My name was insignificant. No one used it anyway, so why bother with it? Instead of making the effort of recalling it, I turned around to the door and the vague spot where I estimated the shinobi to lean against the wood, probably arms crossed over his chest and one leg bend to press the sole against the only wall available. Instead of forming my name, I asked the question which had burned on my tongue since the moment I spotted the strange group of ninjas trying to enter my garden. "What is your business here?"

"Nice to meet you, "What is your business here". A strange name, but I once met a man who…"

"Don't play dumb!" I barked. "I want to know what you're doing here, on my clearing, whatever requires a not-terminated stay!"

"Maa, so feisty." Kakashi said. "Well, we're obviously camping here, until our mission is fulfilled. Unfortunately, I can't talk with you about the mission itself, due to the delicate matter of it, but I can say that we have to stay longer than originally planned. There are some… disturbances, which cause me to believe that we need more time."

"How long?"

"Don't know yet."

"How. Long?"

For the first time, Kakashi seemed to forget to put on his cheerful-careless mask. His voice showed a hint of strained nerves, just a small tint of annoyance and stress to fool me, despite his very advanced skills in masking his feelings. "I don't know yet," he repeated, "I only know that we need more time. More time than you want to give us here."

More time than I'm willing to bear your presence, yes.

Okay. Okay, okay, okay… Quickly, I rubbed with my palms over my face. Maybe… Maybe I could give them some time. Just a little bit of time, a week maybe? A week seemed like a good time span to fulfill whatever mission they had. And I felt like I could handle a week of intrusion and constant loud noises and voices. Anything above that, though… I couldn't make any promises nor was I willing to.

Alright. I will ignore them as much as I can. Go on with my day, do what I would usually do. If they come too close though… The joints in my fingers cracked audibly when I stretched them out and the pots in the shelves started to jitter and tremble when your temperament flared up. I have nothing against defending myself. They seem to be the kind of pretentious brats who think they are invincible.

Gently, I pressed the palms of my hands against the wood of the door. Beyond that barrier, I could feel the flickering and burning of the different sources of chakra, the different personalities, the different people wandering over the usually deserted clearing. At the crowded feeling, my nails seemed to curl upwards in disgust.

A week, I told myself. A goddamn, long, short week, all at the same time.

It was hard to make the offer, the hesitation to accept these shinobi in your home making my tongue curve and tie into a tight knot. "Seven days."

"What?" Kakashi's voice seemed the slightest bit hopeful. A fact which made you grit your teeth together. "What did you say?"

"Seven days. If I see even one hair of one of your sorry asses afterwards on my clearing, then I will see it as a violation of my privacy and will defend myself."

"I'm not quite sure if a week is-!"

"One goddamn week!" I shouted. "Nothing more, nothing less. It's already too much from my point of view, but hey! I'm generous. Tell your little subordinates your success. Bask in it, shinobi. And after that week I don't want to see you anymore, not you, not one of your little students, not a single fucking strand of your hair!"

Silence. Even the wind ruffling through the trees seemed to cease to exist. Only my sharp breaths ragged through the room, harsh and clipped, while my hands trembled against the hardwood.

Then…

"Alright. A week it is, then."

I waited for more, waited and anticipated a backlash or more arguing, but nothing came. Only silence and the wind seemed to brush again through the leaves of the trees surrounding the attic. Maybe, he was already gone? I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind to search for the chakra signature (I almost felt sorry for him and his obviously tortured life he led so far. Almost.)

Nothing.

Confused, I opened my eyes and stared at the opposite wall. He left. He just left. Not too far away, I could still feel the aura, mingling with the others outside, but… He just left me alone. Gave me space. That was… strange. A strange experience.

I blinked several times, still trying to wrap my head around it, only to come to no visible explanation. Was he done manipulating you? Did he reach his goal? Did he not? I had no idea and I still thought about it when I cleaned the dishes from breakfast, staring mindlessly out of the window, which showed the garden in its full beauty.

It was impossible to not notice the blond boy walking up to the fence, cautiously keeping a distance of a meter to the overgrown barrier, all the while his blue eyes were intently fixated on the dangerous green. Carefully, I dropped the single plate onto the counter right beside the sink, all the while watching the boy just as intently as he watched the fence. Like it would jump at him any second.

Suddenly, he stopped.

He was maybe three meters away from the window, standing there with his arms hanging down, the once lilywhite linen around his hands a bit dirtied by ash and earth. The bright orange of his clothing almost seemed to reflect some of the sunlight. At least, my eyes hurt a bit while you looked at him, hands busy drying off the plate.

What the…? He doesn't plan on trying again, is he?