The Shadow's Game

Within the meeting room, the air was stagnant and the tension nearly tangible. None of them dared to move, and none of them dared

to breathe loudly for fear of breaking the last thread of patience their commander had. It was well-known that Hazuki Mitoku possessed a violent temper, it was just rare that any of them dared to fan those flames.

But of course, Gai's shouts about youth were bound to make someone snap eventually. It was just unfortunate that it was Hazuki who had snapped first.

"If you spout anymore nonsense about youth Gai, I swear to Kami I'll rip out your intestines and shove them up your ass so far, they'll come out the other end! Understand?"

Gai was visibly shaking, much to the secret amusement of the many spectators. It wasn't every day they got to see one of Konoha's most famed ninja shaking in their boots.

And all because of a woman who barely reached his shoulders in height and probably wouldn't last two minutes against him.

But then again, she had a tendency to carry out her threats one way or another.

"Y-yes Hazuki-san! I shall use diligence and refrain from using my most you—"

Thankfully, Genma managed to elbow him hard enough to stop that word from coming out. That prevented more than one catastrophe from taking place.

"Now, where were we Hokage-sama?"

The Sandaime Hokage himself often feared Hazuki's temper but found himself highly amused when someone was foolish enough to incite it. The results usually had one or more of his shinobi in the hospital, but the damage wasn't ever permanent.

And he wasn't going up against her to stop it either. Not even he was willing to face the woman's wrath.

"We were discussing recent rumors that revolve around a certain underground figure making a name as the Yamikage," he said. "I have received reports that this person is becoming more active and backing up many of the rebellions in other countries. Rumors claim that they are a Konoha shinobi."

The silence in the room was alert, every person sitting straighter. A traitor was no joke in Konoha, especially if they were gaining a name as an underground Kage.

"Has anyone confirmed these rumors Hokage-sama?" Genma asked, chewing a senborn in his teeth.

"As of now, no. No one has been able to give definite proof that the Yamikage is real. However, the other Kages are getting suspicious. If this person is not discovered and taken care of, we could face possible war."

Danzo, one of the village elders on the council, leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "Surely we would know if a figure such as this had risen in Konoha?"

The Hokage shook his head, eyes somber. "We have nothing except rumors and speculation to go on. There is no solid proof."

"Then on what grounds do the other Kages lay blame with Konoha?"

The Hokage laid a piece of paper upon the table. Drawn there was the symbol of Konoha, with a line slashed through it.

"Three officials within Hidden Sand murdered in their sleep," he said. "This symbol was found on a piece of paper attached to their chests. Whoever we are dealing with, whether they are true Konoha shinobi or not, they shall be found and dealt with soon, by any means necessary."

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Sitting in her kitchen with a bottle of saké, Shikara Nara listened to the old woman's lecture with half an ear. She hadn't cared about what others thought in years and that had hardly changed. In fact, it'd probably grown worse.

"—got all the necessities to please a man and—"

Shikara took a long swig of the drink, hardly hearing the woman. She didn't drink often and never would. It impaired her judgment and let her emotions reign free. To her, emotions were useless. They had been for a long time. But if it tuned out the badgering of old women, sake was a welcome drink.

The old woman stopped in her ranting, frowning at the girl before her. Long brown hair in a braid, crisp clothes in blacks and dark greens, and those eyes. The old woman could see the emptiness in those eyes, a look only the dead should carry.

But then, Shikara had died six years ago hadn't she? Her heart still beat but the girl herself was only driven by a promise.

It saddened to old woman to see the girl so broken.

"You should really try to live dear," she said softly, walking through the door. "You only get one life you know."

Shikara stared into the drink blankly. She'd been hearing the same thing for years now. She should try to live, not give up, blah blah. She didn't a rat's ass anymore. Wasn't that obvious?

Suddenly disgusted with the drink, she dumped it down the sink before heading out to the training grounds. Pounding training dummies to the ground was usually a good way to relieve emotions that she didn't need. Just repeat an attack until your mind becomes numb and you're not really thinking. That was how Shikara coped.

"S-stop! P-please! I d-didn't—"

SLAP!

"Shut up you damn monster! No one asked you!"

Shikara stopped, crouching down on the roof directly above the scene. Five men surrounded a small boy with blonde hair. Three of them carried bottles of saké. The other two held the boys arms, keeping him from running. One of the mean slapped the boy again.

Shikara knew that the boy was the Kyuubi container. A child who'd had no choice in the matter. She'd never thought much about the brat, preferring to stay away from him. He brought to mind painful memories of the night her mother died.

"You should've died, demon!" the man slurred. "Yer nuttin' but a monster!"

As the man pulled back his fist, Shikara leaped. Landing in front of Naruto she quickly cast the shadow possession jutsu, trapping all five of the men.

"I will give you two seconds to run when I let this jutsu go," she said tonelessly. "Stay and die. Run and live."

The men feared her eyes. Dead eyes. Those were the eyes of a woman who didn't care two wits whether she lived or died. That look, empty and lifeless, was what they were running from when she released them. They ran for all they were worth.

Shikara watched them go, the faintest flickers of disgust curling her lip before it faded. She turned to face the boy, seeing the bruises and cuts that were slowly healing. He had his back pressed against the wall and his head on his knees. His body shook with terrified sobs.

"They're gone kid," she said. "You had best get home before they come back."

He didn't seem to hear her. Sighing, she knelt before him and shook his shoulder. "Come on brat before they decide to come back."

He caught her off guard when they he unfurled and threw himself at her, sobbing and shaking. Her wrapped his arms around her neck and sobbed his heart out. Shikara stiffened immediately, wanting to throw him off. She hated physical contact and couldn't stand it when people touched her.

It especially irked her that it was the Kyuubi container touching her. She didn't need a reminder of their deaths. She didn't need those memories, those emotions, clouding her judgment.

But for some reason, she picked the boy up and carried him back to his apartment.

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This was where her story truly started. Perhaps you can understand, if just a bit, that this girl was dead. Not in the sense that her heart no longer beat, but that she had no reason to live and her soul had long ago lost its light. We tried, oh how many of us tried, to help her.

It would be the boy who brought the life back to her eyes.