Naruto : Path of Wind

"-can't even trust him to rest when he's injured," Someone says exasperatedly, far, far away. My eyes flutter, but promptly shut when the blinding light hits them. I feel the thin hospital mattress underneath me, and the wires back in my body. Fantastic.

I try to demand the identity of the voice, but instead settle for some mumbles and grunts. For some reason my mouth has been stuffed with cotton, and my head stuck in a vise. It's more than a little uncomfortable.

"Ah, he's awake. If you'd be so kind, Watanabe-san..." I gag forcefully, but the stupid cotton stays lodged in my throat.

"Yes, Hokage-sama." A heartbeat later something rests lightly on my head and a pleasant chill spreads throughout my body, banishing the pain and fuzziness from my head and washing away the cotton in my throat. My eyes flutter open, and there's the unholy white ceiling in all its glory.

"Thank you. That will be all," The old man says. The medic mutters another 'Yes, Hokage-sama' in a simpery voice and scurries out, closing the door behind him. Silence fills the room, but I'm too busy basking in the afterglow of the medical jutsu to break it. Your move, old man.

"... Hokage-sama," A new voice speaks up uncertainly.

"He's coherent," The old man assures them. "He's just being juvenile."

Tch. Fine, be that way.

"I am not," I shoot back hotly and not at all ironically, heaving myself up onto an elbow to glare at the Hokage.

"There we go," he says, smirking. "Naruto, I'd like to introduce you to Yamanaka Inoichi, a member of our intelligence division."

The man in question is sitting in a chair next to the Hokage, a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other, studying me with calculating sky blue eyes. He's wearing a plain pair of pants and undershirt, a standard jounin flak jacket, leather bracers, and a long red vest. His hair is bleach blond and long, starting spiky at the top of his head and gradually straightening out into a tight ponytail down his back.

"Hey," I greet, waving a hand.

"Hello, Naruto."

"You're not gonna screw my mind, are you?" I ask hopefully. He glances at the old man for a moment, but nods.

"We'll do things the old fashioned way first," he agrees. He clicks the pen. "Let's start with the basics."

And it begins.

We go through the standard "mind fucked" questions to start, namely the "Was he wearing anything on his forehead?"s and the "Did he use any elemental jutsu?"s. Just probing the limits of the restrictions Kazu placed on me.

Conveniently enough, this whole process is a means of information gathering in and of itself. Genjutsu like the one placed on me rarely work out for the person who cast the thing, because of all the little loopholes apparent in a mental lockdown. Just discerning what he covered and what he didn't will provide them with some knowledge of his skill level.

And by the time we make it to the end of Inoichi's little list, it's looking pretty good for my masked captor. I can talk about anything that Sasuke saw, like the cloak and the mask and that weird jutsu he used to drag me underground- the intelligence shinobi nods along when I describe what it felt like on my side of things, jotting down something on his paper and muttering about doton jutsu- but that's it.

I try describing his eyes when I notice the pattern, hoping that maybe Sasuke caught a glimpse of them before I got dragged under, but it's no good.

Finally, Inoichi pulls a pad of paper out of his pocket, handing it over to me along with his pen, and instructs me to write down anything I couldn't say during the questioning. The pen gets within an inch of the paper before my hand seizes. I drop the writing utensil with a startled hiss, kneading my cramped appendage forcefully. He promptly picks the pen back up and scribbles something else down.

"Why don't you try asking us some questions," he suggests. It actually takes me a minute to catch his meaning, I'm rather embarrassed to admit. But when it clicks a million of them jump to mind all at once.

Who was the last rogue Uchiha? Is it possible for one man to bring peace to the whole world? Have you ever heard of a doujutsu that involves the color purple and swirling pupil-irises? And so many more. None of them make it past my lips, unsurprisingly. None but one.

"Why did I become a shinobi?"

The old man's eyes widen a fraction and Inoichi begins scribbling furiously on his clipboard, no doubt reading into the question from a thousand different angles. The Hokage considers me seriously. I force myself into a sitting position, fisting my blanket and staring right back at him.

"I don't know, Naruto," he finally admits. My grip slackens, and I sigh disappointedly.

"There was nothing I said when I was little to tip you off? Nothing at all?"

"Well, I do seem to recall you harboring a desire for respect," he says after a contemplative silence. I grimace.

That couldn't have been the only thing, though. The old man had said himself that I wouldn't have gotten through the Academy otherwise. What was it, then? It's on the tip of my tongue, I can feel it. I just can't...

"Do you have anything else you'd like to try asking us?" Inoichi speaks up. I shake my head. "In that case, I suppose..." He makes a frustrated sound, turning to the old man. "Hokage-sama, I don't understand why I can't just-"

"Inoichi," The Hokage interrupts the man, his tone suddenly steel. "This is not open for discussion. My word is final." The room grows just a little colder. The jounin's jaw clenches, but he nods his assent nonetheless.

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

We spend an eternity after that twisting my brain into more knots searching for a loophole to Kazu's genjutsu, with little enough to show for it. By the time the Yamanaka jounin has run out of ideas the sun has climbed from its position just above the treeline up to its apex, and we still haven't vocalized anything but the clothes he was wearing and the technique he used to pull me into the ground.

Finally, the intelligence shinobi stands up and grabs the note pad off my bed, bows stiffly to the old man, and leaves, shutting the door just forcefully enough behind him for it to be noticeable. The old man rolls his eyes.

"He wanted in my head," I say matter-of-factly into the silence.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you let him?" I mean, I'm not complaining or anything. From what I've heard it feels ridiculously obtrusive, almost like you're being looked at naked the whole time they're in there. Except your thoughts are naked too, and you better hope it's not a hot kunoichi rooting around in your brain... "He seemed pretty pissed. Wouldn't it have been easier to let him take a look?"

He waves a hand. "Don't mind that. The Yamanaka are a prideful bunch when it comes to their clan jutsu, nothing more. He'll get over it soon enough."

"But why not let him?" I press. His lip curls.

"Extenuating circumstances," he says, and his reluctance in revealing even that much is palpable.

There's only ever been one thing related to me that would have the old man so tight-lipped. It isn't hard to make the connection.

"The seal," I guess. He nods. "So I'm still not old enough to know, then?"

He sighs. "Naruto..."

"I mean, I'm pretty much an adult now, aren't I? How much older do you want me to get? What happens if I never get that old?" I insist.

"I can't," he reiterates, shaking his head. "Not yet. I made a promise. You know that." Of course I know that. He's only told me about it a dozen times over the years.

The subject of my seal has always been a tense one between the two of us, since that fateful day when I first discovered the stupid thing, training after yet another useless class on chakra theory in the blistering heat. I'd ripped my shirt off, and a few minutes later noticed the great swirling masterpiece glowing a faint, sullen red from its place on my gut. The first thing to jump into my head, funnily enough, was that someone had sealed a super secret jutsu scroll in me, just waiting for me to unlock its top secret secrets.

The Hokage had quickly disavowed me of that dream, almost before I was done explaining the situation and asking him if he could unseal it for me.

The unlocking part, at least. It turned out it really was a top secret seal that had been placed on me right after I was born, though he didn't actually tell me what it was for, just that he'd made a promise to my parents not to tell anyone. Not even me, until I reached a certain age, but I'd screwed that one up easily enough. Then he wrapped the whole thing up with a stern order never to tell anyone about my seal. Not my friends, not Iruka-sensei, none of my caretakers, no one.

And I never did. Not even Sasuke.

"What are you waiting for, anyway?" I ask sourly. "What could the stupid thing possibly do that telling me about it now instead of in a year or two would be such a big deal?" Silence.

"Can you at least give me an idea? Will it be when I hit chunin?" Silence. "What about when I make it to jounin? Will I be ready then?" I ask loudly, frustration bleeding into my tone.

The Hokage quirks a little smile. "I certainly won't keep it from you when you become the Godaime," he says.

I glower at him. "Old man..."

"Just a joke, just a joke," he assures me, eyes shining with mirth. "Truthfully, though, your rank won't have anything to do with it. Neither will age. I'm not keeping this from you for anything so petty. I'll tell you as soon as I think you're ready to know," he says sincerely.

"I swear, old man, this thing better be worth the wait," I grumble.

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