A Boy for a Flower [Naruto Fanfiction]

Part 1 - II

When I came to, I immediately sensed that something was wrong. There was something cold and hard pressed against my neck and I couldn’t move one of my arms. Jolting awake immediately, I saw that one arm was pressed tightly against my back and a kunai was the cold metal object at my neck. One chuunin had me in a tight grip while the other was basically in my face, a palm out to tap me awake. They both didn’t look delighted at my consciousness.

“You’re finally awake.” the one in front of me said. I struggled against the other chuunin, trying to free myself, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

“Wh-what’s going on?” I asked, obviously frightened.

“Just look for yourself.” he said, waving his arm toward where the Waterfall Maidens were. To my horror, all of them were gone. Tears swam in my eyes and fell just as easily as they came. He took them; he took all we ever had. Not only that, it was my fault. That was why the chuunin were being so hostile toward me. I was the one who brought Kabuto to the Waterfall Maidens, expecting him to be lucky to have just one. Now all of them were gone.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” the chuunin behind me said.

Bile seemed to rise in my throat. I knew exactly what that meant, “Bu-but... I didn’t know! I had no idea that he would steal them all!” The chuunin in front of me crossed his arms with disapproval as my heart pounded like a fist upon a door in my chest. I was basically a betrayer to the entire village, and that could mean two things; depending on what Lord Shibuki sentenced me with: either death or banishment. Both things were devastating enough to me.

“Never trust an outsider; even if they seem to be the most trustworthy.” the chuunin in front of me said simply, “Come on, we’re going to pay Lord Shibuki a visit.” The chuunin holding me in place jerked me forward and without another word, I was taken to the village to receive my sentence.

Walking through town, it seemed that word already got around. Considering it was a small village, it was no surprise, but even still, it hadn’t even been a day yet. People exchanged glances when I came toward them. Whispering, muttering... no matter what came out of their mouths, I knew it was all spoken against me. I had done something terrible; I had placed the Hidden Village of Waterfall’s sacred treasure right into unknown hands.

My mother poked her head out of the door with my father in tow. She looked as though she had been crying—seeing as she had a kleenex in her hand and her eyes were red. She shook her head slowly in terror when she saw me in custody by the two chuunins. My father put a hand on her shoulder as she planted her face into the kleenex and she cried so hard her shoulders shook. My father didn’t cry as obviously as my mother, but I knew he was. That scowl on his face told me he was trying his hardest not to cry—he respected Lord Shibuki to the end and probably trusted him not to do anything drastic like have me killed. Though, it must have been hard on him just as it was for my mother.

Finally, I came face to face with Lord Shibuki. There was a disappointed scowl drawn on his face and I knew that he was finding it hard to accept that all the Waterfall Maidens had been taken. He was a kind-hearted man with short grey hair and amiable brown eyes. He always wore a navy blue long coat symbolizing his authority but I always thought it was the tackiest thing ever. Though, looking at it now, it was something to be feared. My life was basically in his hands at the moment and just his word would decide everything.

“Lord Shibuki...,” one chuunin began, but Lord Shibuki raised a hand for him to stop. The chuunin bowed and backed away from me along with the other one. I silently gulped. What would be his answer?

Finally, he sighed and began with, “I remember that one day when you were young. You had your nose in another botany book when you ran into some of the local bullies.” I frowned with my eyebrows furrowed. Why was he bringing up the past? “They picked on you for being a bookworm and you took it all seriously. I had found you crying by yourself in the park—the book on your lap. I had asked you what the matter was and you replied that you got picked on. Then I asked why they did that. You said that it was because the book was just so interesting, that you couldn’t put it down to look out for the morons.” He paused, chuckling at the memory, “Then there were a couple of other cases: tripping over a chair almost everyday, nearly falling off ladders... you were always like that...