Blazing Empress(Naruto AU)

十二(12)Uncovering The Truth

A soft whistle travelled in the breeze. As he strolled to his path home, hands resting behind his head, Kazuma whistled melodies, enjoying his moment in solitude. He passed through other shops; lights dimmed while the bustling laughter of men and the clinging glasses lifted in the air near a bar. He caught the scent of alcohol on the breeze while their continuous booming voices rang in his ears.

Though a chill was in the atmosphere, a cool temperature that would send shivers down anyone's spine; Kazuma remained unbothered by the air as his mind pictured today's events. As the stars on the horizon gave light to his path, the Uchiha's mind kept trying to picture any possible images that matched the one he witnessed. His thoughts returned to when his teacher disappeared from everyone's sight, revealing a symbol on the nape of her neck where the breeze lifted her hair.

To the human eye, it would be difficult to catch it; however, with his sharingan, he could see the smallest detail. It was a dark wavy pattern, the kind in faded ink. Though he was uncertain, the symbol seemed to be going down the nape of her neck.

Yuya's mysterious tattoo aroused a sense of curiosity within him. Not that he wasn't interested in her in the first place, but now he was even more fascinated by who she was. It had only been a month since team two was formed, and they knew nothing of each other's lives. He knew nothing about his teacher or much about his teammates. Keito seemed as cool as a cucumber, but also had a quiet fuse that could burst. Akane, on the other hand, was a short fuse.

He smirked at the thought of the blue-haired girl on his team. Her reactions to his teasing amused him greatly, frequently to Keito's annoyance though most of the time would get dragged into their small quarrel. All three at each other's throats garnered punishments to Yuya's courtesy which was the most unpleasant experience he had ever faced.

He sighed, running a hand through his black locks of hair. A mischievous type if he has to describe Yuya in short. She took as many opportunities to mess with him and his teammates, a woman who enjoyed watching her pupils struggle like dogs. Sweat tickled his forehead at the memory of her announcing that he passed the test in her more or less disturbing disguise. He knew from her attire alone that no resident of Konoha would normally wear. She was clearly of foreign origins, though having one in their village was strange.

After all, it's only been a decade after the war between many ninja villages.

Though he could be wrong or mistaken, but she was hiding something behind those playful smiles. Too many questions plagued his mind about the woman's identity and why they allowed a foreigner to teach in another village besides hers. Ever since the time team two formed, he wondered about Yuya's true power and her capabilities.

Kazuma's features creased into a frown, his nose crunching from the faint aroma of the tree bark, feet crushing the small fallen branches. He questioned her motives as to why she was allowed to roam around the village so freely, knowing that her attire screamed foreigner. Konoha had its hotter days, yet the woman's attire covered her from head to toe. A fur-collared and sleeves kimono wasn't ideal for weather like Konoha. The whole ordeal seemed very odd to him. Whether he knew or not, he would find out who she was, with the symbol being his only hunch.

The leaves rustled as the breeze strolled, his black flowing in the wind. Oddly, a nearby bush continued to move despite the wind no longer blowing in the air. Though noticed by the Uchiha, Kazuma continued to his destination as if nothing had happened though his gaze pierced the moving bush while his hand slowly slid to his weapon pouch in his pants. His pace slowed down, his feet shuffling the dirt beneath them. Moments later, a kunai flew in his way, ready to hit his back. Quickly pulling out a weapon, Kazuma leaped and deflected the incoming kunai. He landed on his feet, squinting his eyes, searching for the attacker. He sighed when his gaze landed on a recognizable face.