Towards the Sun

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

When you leave a potted plant unwatered and confined for five days straight in a curtained, unventilated room, you kind of expect to find a dried-up seedling at most upon your return. But when you're Uchiha Sasuke who had done just that and come back after qualifying for the final stage of the Chuunin Selection Exams, all thoughts of some baby rose plant waiting for his care back at his apartment pushed to some bleak corner of his mind, you might just be in for some surprise.

Some BIG surprise.

"What the..."

The colourful vocabulary of profanities that was threatening to spill past his beautiful lips still stood inferior to the absurdity of the scene provoking its forthcoming. In his stupor he even discarded the strange warmth growing in his head.

The potted plant had grown. A lot. And it didn't look close to death and decay in the least. On the contrary, it seemed as though Sasuke had never gone away and instead had fed it fertiliser and photosynthetic elements day in and day out for the past week. And even that amount of time wouldn't suffice for a mere rosehip to sprout and grow a one-foot-long stalk.

Right?

Sasuke wasn't sure about that, anyway. Botany had never been his forte, which at that moment he thought should be remedied to. He almost considered an immediate trip to the Konoha library to search for a book on fast-growing rose plants growing weirdly shaped buds which looked like – like paper?

He cautiously raised his left hand and poked the crisp bud with his forefinger – yes, the bud did have a papery feeling to it. Although it was smooth, its surface lacked the velvety softness of normal rose petals. Still, Sharingan activated, he was ready to strike with Chidori at any moment, while his right hand was poised in front of his mouth, the words "Fire Style: Fireball jutsu!" hanging on the tip of his tongue. Well, maybe he was overdoing it a little bit...

Poke.

Poke. Poke.

POKE!

No reaction.

Sighing, relaxing, he let his Sharingan recede and the natural blackness of his eyes soon took over. Why had he agreed to all of this in the first place anyway? Oh, right. He was compelled to "accept any assigned mission" until he turned twenty-one or so – the Konoha Council had successfully spoilt his seventeenth birthday by announcing their decision back then. On the less unpleasant side, he wouldn't be given more than one mission at a time.

Nonetheless, he had come to realise, this was without a doubt a B-rank mission. And technically he was still a mere Genin. Granted, he had known from the start that his defection some years ago would eventually entail such consequences. Now, it was impossible to go back and...

A wave of heat to his head halted his train of thought and he brought a hand up to his warm forehead, evaluating the difference in temperature. He had probably walked in the midday sun for too long. The storm was finally gone, so he had seized the opportunity to get some sunlight.

... Hn?

He finally noticed the small stack of embellished envelopes atop the dining table. Had they really been there all along? The shock of finding the still living plant had probably slightly dulled his usually sharp senses. The thought that someone had been inside his apartment in his absence perturbed his mind, made him grit his teeth in irritation. Indeed, he had been pleasantly surprised to find no letter lying on his doormat upon his arrival. His eyes swept the room for signs of a potential break-in... in vain. His Sharingan told him that the intruder – or maybe, the intruders – had left no chakra trace at all. However, he was presently more aware than ever of the quietness and emptiness of his apartment.