Chapter Three

Promises Kept

The Jyuuken as a fighting style is regarded as one of the most artful forms of combat in Konoha’s arsenal. This taijutsu focuses on disabling tenketsu points using blows and techniques that, to the uninitiated observer, only serves to annoy an opponent by using seemingly effeminate, ergo weak, strikes. But this in itself only adds to the artfulness of the style.

A light tap on the stomach can create mush out of internal organs, disabling the inner coils of even the most hardened shinobi. A straightened finger to the neck can cut of the cartroid artery, disabling the flow of blood to the brain and killing the adversary within thirty seconds. The amount of ways that a Hyuuga can kill with their signature style is almost as limitless as the possible applications to their bloodline, from combat to medicine.

Still, the artfulness of the Hyuuga’s Jyuuken lies in the dance of combat. The physical structure of a Hyuuga clansman is lithe, sleek and lean, thus adding to the aesthetic qualities of the Jyuuken as a fighting style. It is said that two Hyuuga fighting each other can be likened to a pair of trained dancers, evading and dodging with almost unnatural grace that the lethality of the style the use is often ignored for the sheer awe that is inspired by the beauty of the gentle fist.

It was poetry in motion, in short.

And so too was Hyuuga Hanabi captivated by her sister and cousin’s sparring. It was said among the clan elders that Neji is considered a prodigy even among people of the Main House. His skills and the development of his bloodline is rivaled only by Hiashi himself, and even then just barely. His skill with the Gentle Fist was finely perfected by hours upon hours of training, and even with most of the truly powerful techniques were not taught to him because of clan law, he was still a formidable warrior in his own right.

Hinata was far behind him in terms of skill, but as of her technique...Hanabi winced as her sister delivered a particularly crushing blow to a barely held block by her cousin. There was no Hyuuga more innovative in the creation of techniques than Hyuuga Hinata. Whereas the clan elders looked upon her mixing of different combat tactics to the so-called purity of the Jyuuken as blasphemous at best, Hinata made sure that none of her moves were as predictable as clan techniques often made them to be. The heiress had, supposedly, mastered three other forms of taijutsu other than the Jyuuken, and with her access to secret clan techniques, she was able to create a fluid meshing of all four styles she is proficient in and thus create a deadly fighting style all her own.

It was this style she planned to pass down to her heirs, she said. Too much stasis in a single fighting style will create laxity and an inability to grow. Of all people, Hyuuga Hinata understood that the self-imposed exile from the rest of society will start to destroy their clan faster than the oppression of the village.

This of all things she could not abide.

And so the dance continued, Hanabi taking note of all the techniques and tactics used and all of the applications the combined styles would have in real combat. The younger heiress’ biggest asset was her mind, and combined with a natural love for learning, made her almost impossible to defeat by anyone from her age group. If it wasn’t for the Hyuuga’s insistence at not involving themselves in the war, she would have been chuunin and leading her own unit in the front lines.

But the safety of the bloodline was all that mattered to the clan. Hanabi clenched her fist, the thoughts of her father’s words resounding in her mind. This village has turned its back on us, Hiashi said from his bed. So too will the Hyuuga turn its back on it. It wasn’t right. They as a clan had sworn fealty to the village, an oath that should not be taken lightly even if the years had taken its toll on the clan. There was no reason to break a promise, she reasoned, no reason at all to uphold something held dear long ago even if times had changed.

Hanabi didn’t break her word. That was her Ninja Way.

“Hanabi-chan? Do you have any questions so far?”

The younger heiress blinked, surprised at being addressed. “I apologize, onee-sama,” she said. “It appears that I had not realized my mind had been wandering…”

“What’s bothering you, iimoto?” Hinata’s voice was once again motherly and filled with concern. “You know we are always here for you Hanabi-sama,” Neji then said his usual formal monotone laced with affection, detectable only to those who knew what to look for.

The both of them had been sensei to the young genin, more so than her assigned jounin-sensei who, more often than not, left the Hyuuga to her own devices most of the time. At least this was not because of Nara Shikaku’s predispositions to the clan. On the contrary in fact. The elderly jounin was simply lazy, a trait which he supposedly passed onto his brilliant progeny, Nara Shikamaru. Hanabi would have snorted had she dwelled on the thought any longer. Nara Shikamaru, the genius tactician and aide to the Hokage himself, a lazy bum? That was almost as funny as saying that the Akamichi boy loved eating a balanced diet and exercise.

“Can you tell me exactly what happened yesterday?” Hanabi inquired. “You know, when Naruto-san brought me home?” Neji’s eyes narrowed, a frown forming on his aristocratic features. Hanabi’s sister looked at him worryingly before she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I just can’t bring myself to trust him, Hinata-sama,” the prodigy confessed. “He has grown up with the love of the village, and as such has been spoiled by the fact that majority of the people in Konoha worship the very ground he walks on. I don’t know what his motives are in rescuing Hanabi-sama, but you can rest assured that they cannot be trusted.”

“Neji!”

“I am only saying what I feel is the truth…”

“Still, there is no reason to judge the man because of some bias you have in your heart,” Hinata countered. “We have no reason to return the animosity given us, niisan.” Neji conceded the heiress’ point and remained silent as Hinata retold the story, Hanabi stopping to interject at crucial points.

“I see…” Hanabi said. No, I don’t see. What reason does the hero of the village have to show kindness to a clan of outcasts? What would the great and glorious Uzumaki Naruto know about being glared at most of the hours of the day? What would the Kiroii Senko know about being beaten within an inch of your life on an almost weekly basis? How would you understand what kind of pain a Hyuuga must experience every day of her life?

“Thank you, onee-sama. That was very…informative.”

Hanabi got up, wincing as she did so. The injuries from yesterday were healing quite nicely thanks to her sister’s medicinal balms, but even then she would need a bit more time to recover. The two jounin watched the girl retreat and can’t help but feel that Hanabi wasn’t telling them everything they needed to hear.

“Leave her alone,” Neji said, just as Hinata was just about to chase after her sister. The girl inclined her head as if to ask why. “She deals with her pain her own way,” the older man reasoned. “It would not do to invade her privacy even on things that should concern us.”

“But I can’t help it.”

“Neither can I, Hinata-sama. But she will learn to trust us with this in time.”

The heiress was reassured by her cousin’s words, if only temporarily. Still, it would be next to impossible to ignore this issue for very long, whatever it turned out to be.

Meanwhile, in the borders of the Hyuuga compound, a pair of guards activated their bloodline and spotted a very distinct set of blond spikes tied messily underneath a Konoha forehead protector. The man made no attempt to approach in stealth, and even as the guards stared, they saw that he was…whistling to himself?

“Halt!” the lead said, drawing a pole arm he laid in the side of a tree. “Who goes there?” The blond waited until he was six feet from the pair, and by then several other Hyuuga was at the scene, all with drawn weapons. The stranger, who clearly wasn’t such a stranger, raised an eyebrow.

“Uzumaki Naruto,” the blond declared. “And don’t you think I deserve not to have weapons leveled at me each time I visit?”

xxxxx

Flashback…

Konoha Park, an hour before

“Inuzuka Rin, as in the Rin from Team Yondaime?” Sasuke whistled, his sightless eyes staring straight ahead. The pair was lounging in the park, under their favorite tree. There weren’t that many people out; even with the ceasefire not that many shinobi (or civilians for that matter) felt it safe enough to do something as arbitrarily as relax in the sunshine in Konoha park.

The mission Kakashi gave Naruto was simple. He was to seek out either one of two individuals, both legendary medical ninja in their own rights, and convince them to come back to Konoha to bolster the waning ranks of medics in the village roster. Tsunade was a given, even if it was damn near impossible to locate the Sannin, the Godaime felt that she should still be left as one of the options, however unlikely it was that he’d even get to her. The second being Inuzuka Rin, who disappeared sometime in the past right after a failed mission in Earth Country together with the first Kiroii Senko and the Godaime himself.

Naruto nodded, forgetting himself. A blade of grass was stuck between his lips, which he intermittently took out and stared at. “The only other option leaves the Hyuuga,” the blond said, referring to the third member of the former Team Kurenai. “And you know how xenophobic those guys have been ever since the war broke out.”

“Just so. You can’t blame them for their…security measures.”

“Still,” Naruto conceded. “This isn’t cool. The damn pervert specifically made it so I would have to be the one to convince those guys to let me take one of them along on this mission. He doesn’t know how damn suicidal the entire idea is.”

“Come on, Naruto,” Sasuke teased. “Don’t tell me that the Great and Glorious Kiroii Senko is having second thoughts? I thought you loved a challenge.” The blond gave him a withering glare. “Sometimes I feel as if you enjoy messing with my head.”

“I’m hurt, Naruto-kun,” the Uchiha said, feigning disappointment. “You’ve known me for years and it took you this long to figure that out?” Naruto stuck his tongue out at the raven-haired former shinobi, who only snickered.

The sun was high above them when they decided to move from their spot and head for the memorial. Sasuke was guided by the arm of his best friend, and together they made their way to the shinobi memorial in the middle of the park. A few dozen of those names were just that to the pair, names. But there was one in particular that blazed the fires of friendship between the unlikely duo. One name both of them would remember for the rest of their lives. The Uchiha knelt down on both knees, his calloused fingers tracing the kanji that made up her name.

Haruno Sakura.

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto said, his mark of mirth dropping off. He could never lie to her, not after all this time. “I’m going out for a mission in a couple of days. I won’t have the bastard with me this time, but I’m hoping that I can get somebody almost as good. There’s been a cease-fire, and nobody else has to die for at least a couple weeks more.”

The Uchiha didn’t speak, his fingers continuing to trace the kanji that formed his teammate’s name. “I’m leaving Sasuke with Iruka-sensei for a couple of days,” the blond continued. “He’ll be happy for the company, and the bastard won’t have to suffer through the pathetic excuse for sustenance the hospital calls food at the very least.” Despite the somberness of the situation, the Uchiha choked back a laugh. The blond had the audacity to joke here of all places. “I try but I can’t seem to be home enough to keep any of my promises, Sakura-chan.”

“She doesn’t blame you Naruto,” Sasuke said. “The village needs you more than we do. We have no right to impose on--”

“It was because I broke a promise that Sakura’s name is here in the first place.” The blond opened and closed his fist, nails scoring along the inside of his palm hard enough to draw blood. “I’m not breaking another one, Sasuke. Not while there is breath left in my body.”

“Naruto…”

“Forget it, forget I said anything.”

The blind Uchiha reached out for the shoulder of his only remaining friend. Naruto clasped his hand when the raven-haired boy made contact. The two remained in that position for a few more minutes, lost in the haze of memories that came with the fury of the war. “Naruto,” Sasuke said finally. “We should go.”

The blond wiped away a few stray tears. He led his friend away, surrendering him to the awaiting nurse and wheelchair. Sasuke would have to be signed for in the morning so he can be discharged in Iruka’s guidance. Naruto waved goodbye to his friend, watching him get wheeled away in the distance.

I’ll never break another promise again, Naruto thought to himself. Not again.

Speaking of which.

The blond turned and strolled away in the direction of the Hyuuga compound. He meant what he said. He wasn’t going to break another promise. Not as long as he drew breath in his body…

…end flashback

xxxxx

Hyuuga Hizashi pinched the bridge of his nose, his face the very picture of annoyance. “Uzumaki-san,” the head of the Branch House said “I would like to apologize for the treatment you have received from our guard. They only wish to keep the grounds safe against any who would dare break the sanctity of the compound.”

The blond shrugged his shoulders and made no attempt to struggle against his bonds. “Eh,” he said. “It happens. Besides, it’s not like you guys intend to torture me or anything.”

“They did actually.” At that the blond’s eyebrows rose up the middle of his forehead. “Uh,” Naruto said, biting his lip. “Who’d have thunk it.”

It barely took a minute to undo the knots in Naruto’s ropes (no small thanks to the fact that the blond undid most of them in the thirty seconds the two had talked), and fifteen minutes later, Uzumaki Naruto had tea in front of him and a plate full of traditional sweets that went along with it. The latter one the blond didn’t touch, he never did get a liking for sweets. Much more preferred was the bitingly bitter taste of the green tea, which the Kiroii Senko gulped down as slowly as protocol would allow. It allowed him to taste the especially high quality tea better too.

Hizashi wasn’t much of a talker, Naruto surmised. By the time the blond had finished explaining why he was here, the older man had merely nodded. He was being tested, the blond realized. The Hyuuga were known for their intense and rather rigorous methods of psychoanalysis, and if memory served him right, their bloodline was an excellent tool to this end.

It would be pointless of course. Naruto knew all these things in advance, and even then he made sure that he’d be an open book to any and all prodding made by the clansman. He had nothing to hide, and little reason to use deception in any case. Besides, what harm would it be to visit a new acquaintance anyway?

“I’ll be frank with you Uzumaki-san,” Hizashi finally said. “Hanabi-sama is perhaps the second most important person in the clan right now to our head. With Hinata-sama becoming more and more involved with clan matters, the only one of his progeny Hiashi-sama is able to spend more time with is his second daughter. As a result we must be totally clear of your intentions, of whether there is malice in them or not.”

Naruto remained silent, suppressing the urge to call Hizashi a paranoid bastard right then and there. “I understand,” was all he said in reply. The Hyuuga nodded, satisfied. “Very well. Hanabi-sama will be sent for. But be wary. Her injuries have not recovered yet and she will need to rest.” Whether your business here is finished or not, he didn’t say.

The older man left the room, sliding open the shoji doors to reveal a younger version of himself. Neji, Naruto recalled his name was, remembering that this was the old man’s son. The other boy’s aristocratic features were the very picture of disdain, marring his otherwise artfully designed appearance only slightly. The blond repressed the urge to glare, remembering wisely that he was the guest here. He satisfied himself by visualizing the things he’d be able to do to the prick once outside the compound.

“I do not trust you, Uzumaki Naruto.”

The blond merely shrugged. “Join the club,” he said. “Your clan seems to think the exact same way.” Neji glared, his frustration at not getting a rise out of the blond becoming palpable. “I would strike you down for those words,” the boy seethed “if only you were not a guest here.’

A pair of blue eyes regarded him with a slightly annoyed expression. “I’ll try and pencil you in for Saturday then,” Naruto said, fumbling in his pocket for, of all things, a pocket scheduler. “Is eleven o’clock all right with you?”

“You would mock my words?”

“No,” the blond said, rolling his eyes. “I would respect my other appointments. So, is eleven o’clock okay? See, I have a lot of people looking to kill me and a lot of those guys have been waiting months for the chance. You think you could hold on for a couple of more days?”

Neji strode forwards, stopping suddenly when he felt the wash of killing intent in the room. “Ah, ah, ah,” Naruto said, wagging his index finger. “Didn’t your father tell you it’s rude to try and kill your guests?” The Hyuuga was stopped cold, the amount and concentration of the killing intent making him hesitate. Was this the power of the Yellow Flash? Would Naruto truly rise up and kill him where he stood?

For the first time in his life, the Hyuuga felt true fear. The sensation was so foreign Neji literally fell on his ass, landing hard on the tatami floor. Naruto’s red eyes (weren’t his eyes blue?) filled with an odd mix of challenge, contempt and amusement.

Just as suddenly, the killing intent was gone. The blond seated across him did not seem all that dangerous, if his idiotic grin was any indication. “See, Neji?” he cajoled. “I’m not such a bad guy. Besides, would you really like to test your luck by having me as an opponent?” The Hyuuga was silent. He furrowed his brow and muttered a short apology before returning to his post just outside the shoji doors. He’ll make his move in a more opportune moment, Neji decided.

“Good lad.”

Hanabi entered the room a short while later, escorted by her older sister Hinata, the younger girl’s limp doing nothing to dampen her presence. Of all the people here, Naruto noticed that these were the only two that did not have some sort of forehead wrapping, their forehead protectors both looped around their necks. The pair was dressed in silk kimonos, the dominant wheel and spoke patterns of lower nobility patterned around the high quality fabrics.

Hinata bowed formally and Naruto followed suit, inwardly annoyed at what he thought of as useless protocol. “Welcome back to the compound, Uzumaki-san,” the girl said. “I believe you both have not yet been formally introduced?”

“Well yeah,” the blond said, scratching his head and grinning. “I guess we haven’t.”

Hinata smiled serenely and gestured to her sister, who bowed formally as well. “Iimoto,” she said “this is Uzumaki Naruto. He was the one who brought you back to us yesterday afternoon.”

“Doozo yoroshiku, Naruto-sama.”

“Aw, you don’t need to call me that, Hanabi-chan!” Naruto gushed, surprising the both of them by taking the younger girl’s hand and squeezing it. Hanabi looked in surprise both at Naruto for using such an informal suffix and for reaching across the floor and shaking her hand. “You all can just call me Naruto, if that’s okay with you guys.”

“Indeed. We shall do that…Naruto.”

The younger heiress watched her onee-sama converse with their guest, who punctuated most of his sentences with wild arm waving and exaggerated words. For the first time Hanabi was surprised to realize that Uzumaki Naruto wasn’t the uptight, spoiled bastard she thought him to be. The blond was loud, rambunctious, and a bit annoying yes. But underneath that crude exterior was something that proved to be so much more….fascinating.

How enigmatic, she said to herself.

Naruto caught the kid staring and gave her one of his devil-may-care grins. She blushed, coloring her pale cheeks prettily. The blond knew he looked good for a teen his age, and there were times he made use of that to his advantage. The girl was a bit too young for him, sure, but there wasn’t any harm what he was doing.

“How are you feeling then, Chi-hime?”

“Better,” the younger girl said, and meant it too. “I was told you were coming to visit me soon and I had no idea it would be today.” Naruto smiled. “Well, no time like the present, right?” the blond said. “Besides, with us not even sure of how long the cease-fire is going to last, it’s better if I get the important things done first, right?”

Hanabi cocked her head to the side. “And how is visiting me important?” Naruto answered that immediately.

“Keeping a promise is always important!”

The girl smiled in spite of herself. “Yes,” Hanabi conceded. “I myself have never once broken my word. It’s part of my ninja way.” There was a flicker where Naruto’s expression turned suddenly dark. In the same instant it was gone, the mask of mirth back in place. “Something wrong, Naruto-san?” Hinata inquired, to which the blond shook his head. The moment of silence lasted a few minutes more before Naruto spoke again.

“That’s great,” the blond said finally. “A ninja should always keep his promise. Just be sure you never go against your Nindo.”

There was an awkward moment of silence before Hinata had the sense to call for some more tea. The trio talked some more, until the sun started to wane in the horizon. All the while, Hanabi couldn’t get that one incident out of her head. The moment Naruto’s mask cracked. There was something there, she reasoned. Something he was hiding from the rest of the world. Hanabi was one who liked to solve puzzles, never once stopping once she encountered one. Uzumaki Naruto was one, she knew now. She would see past his grinning façade and straight into whatever lay within.

Naruto promised to visit again the next day, to Hinata’s delight and Neji’s chagrin. Once he had left, Hanabi was mulling over her plans when the voice of her uncle startled her from her reverie.

“Hanabi-sama, your father wishes to see you.”

The heiress made no vocal reply as she made her way to the stairway and up the second floor. She gave a slight bowing of the head at her uncle’s bow, and made her way to the master bedroom where her father lay bedridden. He shouldn’t be straining himself like this, Hanabi said to herself. But what would he want that he’d risk that?

What indeed. What indeed.

xxxxx

A/N: Not really sure as to the direction this fic will take so I’m going to try and build on the relationships in this story. The Hyuuga are natural psychoanalysts, which in retrospect makes me wonder if anybody in their clan ever ended up working as a psychiatrist. Most of that would probably spur an interest to understand the inner workings of a person’s mind. I think I’m going to start to build on that with Hanabi’s fixation with Naruto, though I may switch directions somewhere in the middle of the story and do something else. Anyway, I hope you guys like the direction this fic is taking. Please review and keep reading.