A Rose Bloomed: These Memories Beneath My Ribs
Cross-posted to chuunin and shika_ino .
Title: A Rose Bloomed Chapter 6: These Memories Beneath My Ribs
Author: hungrytiger11
Rating: Pg-13 for mild swearing
Character: Inoichi, Ino, Shikamaru, Shikaku, Sasuke
Summary: Later, he would push this whole memory away, along with the mystery of the Uchihas, which would come to remind him uncomfortably of this moment.
Previous Chapter: Blue As
*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The first news came at six, a deliberately loud shuffling of feet that knocked against the door as someone entered. The bell must have bounced against the wooden frame, for the “customer” had it clasped in his hand when Inoichi entered the room. Behind him, the sun was low but the light brilliant, and as the nin stepped further into the shop, making no pretense of glancing at the wares, the light reflected off his forehead protector, momentarily blinding Inoichi.
“The Uchihas are dead.”
It took a moment to force those words through his head.
“How many?”
That’s not the question he really wondered about, but it’s the one you are always trained to ask first.
“Every one of them.”
“What?”
“Well,” the man corrected himself. “Not quite.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
By mid-morning the door was constantly in use as murmurs swept through his store. If any of those voices were actually here to do business, he’d be regretting letting that last store clerk leave after she complained his “amorous advances” made her uncomfortable. The price he paid, Yoshino-san was always scolding, the price he paid, but it was not going to be paid today. Still, Inoichi thought as he turned at the sound of the shop bells banging against the doorframe yet again, he should really remember to put up a hiring notice in the papers again.
“Uchiha Itachi is still ensconced in the Hokage’s Tower. From what we’ve been able to gather, the Hokage and several of his advisors are keeping him there. The whole place is locked down. No one in; no one out.” A voice whispered low as the shinobi slouched down, elbows against the counter. Strands of curly hair fell over her shoulder as she bowed her head lower and pretended to examine a small hand-rake on the counter.
“Hyuuga-san sends his greetings, by the way. Said Ibiki-san wasn’t there to give his greetings too. He wasn’t at the tower.”
No formal interrogation, then? What was the Hokage up to?
Well, whatever it was, he was sure Ibiki would devour any scrap of information he could find. Sometimes you had to protect your leaders even from themselves, as the head of the Investigation and Interrogation unit liked to say.
“Ko-kun see anything else?”
The woman turned to him, eyes flashing an odd shade of red.
“No, but he couldn’t stay long. His clan has been busy today.”
“Ah,” he breathed as the bell beat against the door again. Seeing the counter’s shadow lengthen, Inoichi continued, without looking up, “Are they the ones who will be performing kotsu-age then?”
“Not all,” Shikaku interrupted, striding up to the counter. “That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it, Kurenai-kun?”
The chuunin managed a half-sided grin that didn’t quite crack her face in two. He wondered idly if there were any Uchiha in particular she would be in mourning for.
“Perceptive, as always, Nara-san. Inoichi-san, I don’t think I will buy that rake today, but I might be back in a day or two. I can always hope for a sale, yeah?”
Inoishi waved her out. He didn’t care if Shikaku was there to see any of their “transactions,” but if she did, he wouldn’t get anymore out of her.
“Business looks busy,” Shikaku observed, surveying the shelves’ disarray. He was right and wrong, of course. Informants got paid; they didn’t spend money. But then, he didn’t make his living selling flowers either.
“So, who’s taking part in the kotsu-age?”
The Uchiha Clan, until approximately ten-thirty P.M. yesterday evening, had been one of the largest clans in Konoha, enough to man the entire police force. This morning they were, if rumors were to be believed, one little boy and his sociopath of an older brother. Making sure last rites were performed was going to be problematic, to say the least.
Shikaku flicked off ash from his cigarette and Inoichi suppressed an urge to roll his eyes. His friend hated feeling he was, as he put, “one of your little peeping toms.” Some people had no respect for the less clean side of the business they were in.
“Clan Hyuuga is doing most of it,” Shikaku finally admitted, grudgingly. “They are the closest kin left, and no one can even remember how far back it was to when their clans were one. Still, Hiashi-sama’s requested aid. There are too many, so he asked that any teammates or students of Uchiha shinobi consider performing this duty.”
He took another drag and exhaled smoke before continuing, “S’why I’m here, actually. I need some stuff for a funeral alter.”
Inoichi gave him a quizzical look.
Shikaku scowled in annoyance, scars twisting up his face. “Its Yoshino- her genin cell.”
“Oh, yeah! That shorty who kept threatening to shuiken your ass to a wall if you broke Yoshino-san’s heart. She was a firecracker.” Inoichi let out a dry laugh at the memory, before suddenly recalling that firecracker was most likely found in a bloody heap on the street this morning.
“Just a couple bouquets of white carnations, yeah? Yoshino wanted to mainly use some of our roses.”
“Bit unorthodox,” Inoichi observed.
Shikaku shrugged, pulling out money to pay.
“But appropriate, I suppose,” he finished pushing both the bills and flowers back into his old friend’s arms.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The hand in his squirmed a little, and he gripped on tighter. It’d be a nightmare if he lost Ino in this crowd.
“Daa-ad, why do I have to wear this? It itches,” she complained, jerking at the collar. Her pulling left the black fabric hanging lopsidedly, and even considering the circumstances, Inoichi twitched a slight smile. His little girl was just the cutest thing, no contest.
Reaching down to try and fix her rob one-handedly while still keeping up their pace, he answered, “Because, sweetheart, we’re going to a funeral, and this is what we wear at a funeral.”
He peered over the heads of an increasingly crushing crowd, straining to find Shikaku or Chouza. That might have been them under the far tree; he wouldn’t put it past Shikaku to be lazy even at a funeral. Or possibly they were over by the filling rows of people. Even as tall as both his former teammates were, it was hard to make anything out in this sea of black. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ino sticking out her tongue again. “I don’t wanna go, though. Its gonna be boooring.”
People’s heads started to turn, and Inoichi realized with dim embarrassment, that her voice was carrying even over the noise of the crowd.
“Ino,” he said severely, yanking her along. “This is a funeral. Someone has died. Several someones. You will be respectful.”
Ino’s eyes widened, and glistened with moisture. Inoichi frowned slightly; he must have been a bit too rougher.
“But why do we have to go?” she questioned softer than before.
Inoichi signed and pulled them into a closed store’s doorway. ‘Uchiha Grocers,’ he noted absently. Wouldn’t be open again.
“Ino,” he said gripping her. “Ino, a lot of people… have died. They are no longer with us anymore, like your mama. Papa and Shikaku-ojisan, and Chouza-ojisan knew some of these people. One of them you knew too. Remember,Uchiha Yashiro ? Mama’s old jounin-sensei? He use come over and bounce you his knee. We need to honor Yashiro-san. Do you think you can do that?”
His daughter screwed up her face. After a minute she looked up at him.
“I don’t remember Yoshire-san,” she admitted, obviously a little doubtful of her father’s statements.
“Yashiro-san” he corrected absently. “You were pretty young, just a baby. He came over to help me out sometimes after your mama died. Will you be a good girl for me?”
Short flanks of hair draped across her face, and she bobbed her head down.
“Ok, Dad.” Her voice was soft and she gingerly put her hand in his.
By the time they’d finally arrived, all but the back rows were filled, and Inoichi grit his teeth a bit. He hadn’t lied to Ino about why they were here, exactly. Yashiro-san had been very good to Aiko as a sensei. Had been very good to him too, helping with both Ino and his clan’s affairs after Aiko and most of the rest of the Yamanka clan had been picked out of the debris eight years ago. It was only right they honor him now.
Still, it was hardly the only reason, hardly the main reason.
Curiosity might kill the cat, and it might kill the spy too, but there was just something wrong about this. Well, even more desperately wrong than just the decimation of a clan. After all, thanks to Kyuubi, he’d had some personal experience in that.
News’d come out yesterday. After several long hours in meeting with the elders, Uchiha Itachi had left the village under his own power and supposedly at the Hokage’s will. He was to labeled a missing-nin, and they were to all leave it at that. If he hadn’t known it was Uchiha Shisui and not Uchiha Itachi who had powers all-to-similar to Inoichi’s own, he would have said the Hokage’d had his brain fucked all up and down, to let a killer loose.
Then again, the Hokage, in all his infinity wisdom, had also let his wife’s killer go free to roam the streets in a brat’s body.
Fucking Hokage.
He worked to weave his way through the crowds, spotting Chouza, standing a head and shoulder above the rest. As they got closer, he could make out that the Nara family had already joined the Amikchi clan head, and both his old comrades had brought along their families.
“I told Sawako-chan she was to keep an eye on everyone,” Chouza informed him in lieu of a greeting, as he gestured to his oldest daughter. Inoichi inclined his head.
“Awful good of you, though I’m sure Ino-chan will stay right here, right Ino?”
No answer, but he could make out furious whispers that he assumed were an exchange of greetings between all the kids. A quick jerk of the arm had his daughter quieting down, as he took surveillance of the area before handing her their envelope for the family, so she could give the money when the time was right.
The ceremony itself moved along quite quickly, considering the number of people, and felt more like a memorial for a battle than just a regular funeral. Ino fidgeted beside him, twisting to get a better look at something, trying to peer out from between a sea of taller bodies.
“Who’s that?” she asked in a rather loud whisper. Inoichi looked down to warn her again to quite down, only to find she wasn’t talking to him.
“Who’s that?” she repeated tugging on the boy next to her’s shirt. The Nara boy, Inoichi identified quickly by the shock of dark hair sprouting from the top his head. Looked just like his father had at that age, poor kid. He was in for a long awkward phase.
And just like Shikaku would have, this little boy shrugged and grunted noncommittally.
Curious, Inoichi followed Ino’s gaze to a rather pretty but dead-eyed child.
Oh.
So that was the Last Uchiha, huh? He attempted to drudge up anything he’d ever heard about the clan’s spare to the heir, this second son.
Nothing.
All talk had always been about the genius son, nothing about this little boy sitting so still before strangers, with no more family of his own. Well, the lack of talk would change soon enough he supposed. Was changing, he silently corrected himself as he leaned down to answer his daughter, since no one else was inclined to.
“That’s Uchiha Sasuke. His parents and all of his clan died. We’re here at their funeral.”
“So, he’s all alone?” she whispered, only half-questioning.
“Yes,” he answered, giving her hand a squeeze before pushing off his knees to stand.
It might have been all in his mind, but he was a Yamanaka, and he knew about minds, so he wasn’t imaging what came murmuring up to him next.
“I know how that feels.”
It startled something deep underneath his ribs, a place he wasn’t accustomed to. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her what she meant, but, twisting around, something stopped him.
His daughter, with eyes that were sometimes so like her mother’s and sometimes were so very not, was staring intensely at the Last Uchiha. And staring, no less intensely, at his daughter was Nara Shikamaru.
He watched as the boy made to grasp her hand, and he watched as she wrapped fingers around his. He watched as she dropped her other hand from his own.
But she never saw him watching, for she never turned her eyes from that broken little boy in the front row. He spent the rest of the funeral wondering what she saw where she looked, and hoping, hoping, he could forget this moment. Chafing his sweaty fingers against themselves, he wondered if he ever could.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Next Chapter: The Same Kind of Different As Me
Title: A Rose Bloomed Chapter 6: These Memories Beneath My Ribs
Author: hungrytiger11
Rating: Pg-13 for mild swearing
Character: Inoichi, Ino, Shikamaru, Shikaku, Sasuke
Summary: Later, he would push this whole memory away, along with the mystery of the Uchihas, which would come to remind him uncomfortably of this moment.
Previous Chapter: Blue As
*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The first news came at six, a deliberately loud shuffling of feet that knocked against the door as someone entered. The bell must have bounced against the wooden frame, for the “customer” had it clasped in his hand when Inoichi entered the room. Behind him, the sun was low but the light brilliant, and as the nin stepped further into the shop, making no pretense of glancing at the wares, the light reflected off his forehead protector, momentarily blinding Inoichi.
“The Uchihas are dead.”
It took a moment to force those words through his head.
“How many?”
That’s not the question he really wondered about, but it’s the one you are always trained to ask first.
“Every one of them.”
“What?”
“Well,” the man corrected himself. “Not quite.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
By mid-morning the door was constantly in use as murmurs swept through his store. If any of those voices were actually here to do business, he’d be regretting letting that last store clerk leave after she complained his “amorous advances” made her uncomfortable. The price he paid, Yoshino-san was always scolding, the price he paid, but it was not going to be paid today. Still, Inoichi thought as he turned at the sound of the shop bells banging against the doorframe yet again, he should really remember to put up a hiring notice in the papers again.
“Uchiha Itachi is still ensconced in the Hokage’s Tower. From what we’ve been able to gather, the Hokage and several of his advisors are keeping him there. The whole place is locked down. No one in; no one out.” A voice whispered low as the shinobi slouched down, elbows against the counter. Strands of curly hair fell over her shoulder as she bowed her head lower and pretended to examine a small hand-rake on the counter.
“Hyuuga-san sends his greetings, by the way. Said Ibiki-san wasn’t there to give his greetings too. He wasn’t at the tower.”
No formal interrogation, then? What was the Hokage up to?
Well, whatever it was, he was sure Ibiki would devour any scrap of information he could find. Sometimes you had to protect your leaders even from themselves, as the head of the Investigation and Interrogation unit liked to say.
“Ko-kun see anything else?”
The woman turned to him, eyes flashing an odd shade of red.
“No, but he couldn’t stay long. His clan has been busy today.”
“Ah,” he breathed as the bell beat against the door again. Seeing the counter’s shadow lengthen, Inoichi continued, without looking up, “Are they the ones who will be performing kotsu-age then?”
“Not all,” Shikaku interrupted, striding up to the counter. “That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it, Kurenai-kun?”
The chuunin managed a half-sided grin that didn’t quite crack her face in two. He wondered idly if there were any Uchiha in particular she would be in mourning for.
“Perceptive, as always, Nara-san. Inoichi-san, I don’t think I will buy that rake today, but I might be back in a day or two. I can always hope for a sale, yeah?”
Inoishi waved her out. He didn’t care if Shikaku was there to see any of their “transactions,” but if she did, he wouldn’t get anymore out of her.
“Business looks busy,” Shikaku observed, surveying the shelves’ disarray. He was right and wrong, of course. Informants got paid; they didn’t spend money. But then, he didn’t make his living selling flowers either.
“So, who’s taking part in the kotsu-age?”
The Uchiha Clan, until approximately ten-thirty P.M. yesterday evening, had been one of the largest clans in Konoha, enough to man the entire police force. This morning they were, if rumors were to be believed, one little boy and his sociopath of an older brother. Making sure last rites were performed was going to be problematic, to say the least.
Shikaku flicked off ash from his cigarette and Inoichi suppressed an urge to roll his eyes. His friend hated feeling he was, as he put, “one of your little peeping toms.” Some people had no respect for the less clean side of the business they were in.
“Clan Hyuuga is doing most of it,” Shikaku finally admitted, grudgingly. “They are the closest kin left, and no one can even remember how far back it was to when their clans were one. Still, Hiashi-sama’s requested aid. There are too many, so he asked that any teammates or students of Uchiha shinobi consider performing this duty.”
He took another drag and exhaled smoke before continuing, “S’why I’m here, actually. I need some stuff for a funeral alter.”
Inoichi gave him a quizzical look.
Shikaku scowled in annoyance, scars twisting up his face. “Its Yoshino- her genin cell.”
“Oh, yeah! That shorty who kept threatening to shuiken your ass to a wall if you broke Yoshino-san’s heart. She was a firecracker.” Inoichi let out a dry laugh at the memory, before suddenly recalling that firecracker was most likely found in a bloody heap on the street this morning.
“Just a couple bouquets of white carnations, yeah? Yoshino wanted to mainly use some of our roses.”
“Bit unorthodox,” Inoichi observed.
Shikaku shrugged, pulling out money to pay.
“But appropriate, I suppose,” he finished pushing both the bills and flowers back into his old friend’s arms.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The hand in his squirmed a little, and he gripped on tighter. It’d be a nightmare if he lost Ino in this crowd.
“Daa-ad, why do I have to wear this? It itches,” she complained, jerking at the collar. Her pulling left the black fabric hanging lopsidedly, and even considering the circumstances, Inoichi twitched a slight smile. His little girl was just the cutest thing, no contest.
Reaching down to try and fix her rob one-handedly while still keeping up their pace, he answered, “Because, sweetheart, we’re going to a funeral, and this is what we wear at a funeral.”
He peered over the heads of an increasingly crushing crowd, straining to find Shikaku or Chouza. That might have been them under the far tree; he wouldn’t put it past Shikaku to be lazy even at a funeral. Or possibly they were over by the filling rows of people. Even as tall as both his former teammates were, it was hard to make anything out in this sea of black. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ino sticking out her tongue again. “I don’t wanna go, though. Its gonna be boooring.”
People’s heads started to turn, and Inoichi realized with dim embarrassment, that her voice was carrying even over the noise of the crowd.
“Ino,” he said severely, yanking her along. “This is a funeral. Someone has died. Several someones. You will be respectful.”
Ino’s eyes widened, and glistened with moisture. Inoichi frowned slightly; he must have been a bit too rougher.
“But why do we have to go?” she questioned softer than before.
Inoichi signed and pulled them into a closed store’s doorway. ‘Uchiha Grocers,’ he noted absently. Wouldn’t be open again.
“Ino,” he said gripping her. “Ino, a lot of people… have died. They are no longer with us anymore, like your mama. Papa and Shikaku-ojisan, and Chouza-ojisan knew some of these people. One of them you knew too. Remember,Uchiha Yashiro ? Mama’s old jounin-sensei? He use come over and bounce you his knee. We need to honor Yashiro-san. Do you think you can do that?”
His daughter screwed up her face. After a minute she looked up at him.
“I don’t remember Yoshire-san,” she admitted, obviously a little doubtful of her father’s statements.
“Yashiro-san” he corrected absently. “You were pretty young, just a baby. He came over to help me out sometimes after your mama died. Will you be a good girl for me?”
Short flanks of hair draped across her face, and she bobbed her head down.
“Ok, Dad.” Her voice was soft and she gingerly put her hand in his.
By the time they’d finally arrived, all but the back rows were filled, and Inoichi grit his teeth a bit. He hadn’t lied to Ino about why they were here, exactly. Yashiro-san had been very good to Aiko as a sensei. Had been very good to him too, helping with both Ino and his clan’s affairs after Aiko and most of the rest of the Yamanka clan had been picked out of the debris eight years ago. It was only right they honor him now.
Still, it was hardly the only reason, hardly the main reason.
Curiosity might kill the cat, and it might kill the spy too, but there was just something wrong about this. Well, even more desperately wrong than just the decimation of a clan. After all, thanks to Kyuubi, he’d had some personal experience in that.
News’d come out yesterday. After several long hours in meeting with the elders, Uchiha Itachi had left the village under his own power and supposedly at the Hokage’s will. He was to labeled a missing-nin, and they were to all leave it at that. If he hadn’t known it was Uchiha Shisui and not Uchiha Itachi who had powers all-to-similar to Inoichi’s own, he would have said the Hokage’d had his brain fucked all up and down, to let a killer loose.
Then again, the Hokage, in all his infinity wisdom, had also let his wife’s killer go free to roam the streets in a brat’s body.
Fucking Hokage.
He worked to weave his way through the crowds, spotting Chouza, standing a head and shoulder above the rest. As they got closer, he could make out that the Nara family had already joined the Amikchi clan head, and both his old comrades had brought along their families.
“I told Sawako-chan she was to keep an eye on everyone,” Chouza informed him in lieu of a greeting, as he gestured to his oldest daughter. Inoichi inclined his head.
“Awful good of you, though I’m sure Ino-chan will stay right here, right Ino?”
No answer, but he could make out furious whispers that he assumed were an exchange of greetings between all the kids. A quick jerk of the arm had his daughter quieting down, as he took surveillance of the area before handing her their envelope for the family, so she could give the money when the time was right.
The ceremony itself moved along quite quickly, considering the number of people, and felt more like a memorial for a battle than just a regular funeral. Ino fidgeted beside him, twisting to get a better look at something, trying to peer out from between a sea of taller bodies.
“Who’s that?” she asked in a rather loud whisper. Inoichi looked down to warn her again to quite down, only to find she wasn’t talking to him.
“Who’s that?” she repeated tugging on the boy next to her’s shirt. The Nara boy, Inoichi identified quickly by the shock of dark hair sprouting from the top his head. Looked just like his father had at that age, poor kid. He was in for a long awkward phase.
And just like Shikaku would have, this little boy shrugged and grunted noncommittally.
Curious, Inoichi followed Ino’s gaze to a rather pretty but dead-eyed child.
Oh.
So that was the Last Uchiha, huh? He attempted to drudge up anything he’d ever heard about the clan’s spare to the heir, this second son.
Nothing.
All talk had always been about the genius son, nothing about this little boy sitting so still before strangers, with no more family of his own. Well, the lack of talk would change soon enough he supposed. Was changing, he silently corrected himself as he leaned down to answer his daughter, since no one else was inclined to.
“That’s Uchiha Sasuke. His parents and all of his clan died. We’re here at their funeral.”
“So, he’s all alone?” she whispered, only half-questioning.
“Yes,” he answered, giving her hand a squeeze before pushing off his knees to stand.
It might have been all in his mind, but he was a Yamanaka, and he knew about minds, so he wasn’t imaging what came murmuring up to him next.
“I know how that feels.”
It startled something deep underneath his ribs, a place he wasn’t accustomed to. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her what she meant, but, twisting around, something stopped him.
His daughter, with eyes that were sometimes so like her mother’s and sometimes were so very not, was staring intensely at the Last Uchiha. And staring, no less intensely, at his daughter was Nara Shikamaru.
He watched as the boy made to grasp her hand, and he watched as she wrapped fingers around his. He watched as she dropped her other hand from his own.
But she never saw him watching, for she never turned her eyes from that broken little boy in the front row. He spent the rest of the funeral wondering what she saw where she looked, and hoping, hoping, he could forget this moment. Chafing his sweaty fingers against themselves, he wondered if he ever could.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Next Chapter: The Same Kind of Different As Me