Legacy [ Naruto Reader-Insert ]

Realization

You didn't want to think what Shikaku-jiisan meant during that time in the Nara Main-house but it pushes, breaks through the invisible barriers of your mind. What did he mean by 'anchor'? You remember Shikamaru's hand around yours and you flex your fingers, staring at the ground, unfocused. Your blade hums a melody from beside you.

You clench your fists tightly.

Were you just a pawn in some political play that the Council has orchestrated? Danzo and the Three? You didn't want to think about it too much. The feelings that you're having doesn't do much for your friendship with the people you could honestly consider your best friends. Your heart trembles. Everything so far has just managed to shake the very foundations of your soul, of what made you, you.

Mind, Body and Soul. Mind, Body and Soul. You start chanting in your head to keep your emotions whole. You need someone you could trust. Someone unrelated to the Game that the council are playing. The sterile air of the hospital permeates you eliciting bad memories and the soft thrumming of your mother's shosen drives a dam into your flow of thought.

"Little mouse, are you alright?" She asks, running her fingers through your fringe before putting both of her hands over somewhere else of your body. A concerned look on her face. How rare. The soft green glow coming from her palms makes her look sickly and aged. You have not seen your mother's face in a long time. Too long perhaps.

You hold no feelings of warmth towards the woman who bore you.

"I'd be better if you came home more," You avert your gaze from her face, your voice strained thin and you look elsewhere instead. Like her hands. The skin on her palms are dry and slightly cracked and there's some splotchy bits of discoloration near her knuckles. You don't remember your mother's hands being like this.

She just gives you a shaky smile, "You don't have any broken bones, just a lot of internal bruising." The soft green glow subsides. "The status of the tenketsu points in your left eye is a little unusual, blocked maybe but I don't think it's detrimental to your sight at all, so that's good." She continues, giving you her prognosis on your body.

You remain silent, refusing to answer her. Eyes still looking at her hands.

She slips her hand over yours and you feel all the callouses and bumps and ridges of her palm. Heat burns from the back of your eyes but you blink them back. "Have you unsheathed her yet? The sword. Have you?" She asks, sounding like it might rain in her heart.

It's raining in yours, you swallow, keeping your voice even, "No. No I haven't."

She lets out a breathy sigh and sniffles, drawing her hands back onto her medic apron, "Good." You slide out of the bed, tuck in your sword, slip on your haori- which was hanging by the door and leave the room.

You don't say goodbye as you step through the door.

____

You walk down the hallways at a leisurely pace, swinging your arms in confidence. There was a person that you had in mind. A person who took care of your brother, close to eight years without fail and brought him back without any major injuries. A person who visited Brother almost everyday when he could to keep him company. Sure that person also has questionable taste in books but it was his other qualities that counts.

You also have not seen him since that day you ran from Brother's room. You push down your feelings of embarrassment and slide the door open but the sight that assaults you make you take a step back and blink.