Get Jinxed (Naruto Fan-fiction)

Chapter 4: Old Farts

"I'm home," Claire announced, shaking off her shoes and letting a smile slip out as the mud smeared itself across the wooden floor. "What's for dinner?" She asked, hearing the shuffling of feet in the dining room. Turning the corner, she was confronted by the sight of her father, and a few other elders from the clan. "What's going on?" She questioned defensively.

"Sit," her father ordered, kicking a chair out towards her. "We need to talk."

"All right," Claire agreed, plopping down into the seat and observing the elders around her. Their eyes were wide with fear; a mix of blue and green orbs staring, shocked, at her nonchalance. "You caught me; I did eat the cookies in the cookie jar."

"Now is not the time for jokes, Claire!" Her father spat, clenching his fists and breathing in deeply. "There have been a number of... disappearances in the village as of late," he began, "and we-"

"We, we, we," Claire mocked, crossing her legs and giving an annoyed sigh.

"This is serious," an elder spoke up, his voice laced with anger. "Daichi, take control of your daughter, or we will." With that, the elders retreated from the room, forming a make-shift line out the front door.

"So, why were the up-tight oldies here?"

"The elders were here to inform me of your recent activities," Daichi stepped closer, "you know what you're doing, Claire." He shouted.

"Sure you do," Claire rolled her eyes, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward. "The bunch of old farts that only come out of their homes to tell others how to live tell you that?"

"You will not disrespect our clan, or so help me-" his calamity had long since left, his anger boiling over.

"You won't do anything-"

"No, but the elders will not hesitate to make you disappear."

"Let them try," she spat, flying up from her chair and fighting the dizziness washing over her. She stumbled over her feet, slapping her hand onto the wall and making her way to the door.

"Dai's funeral will be tomorrow morning," her father called after her. "It'd be in your best interest to come and show your condolences."

"To hell with Dai. To hell with you... to hell with this entire clan!"

"Claire-" she couldn't listen to him anymore. Her feet hit the ground running, her blood pounding in her veins, and her head throbbing as she ran. Her whole body told her to get away, to never come back to this forsaken place, where she'd been born to live her life as a servant to those arrogant old men...

... but she knew she couldn't. There was something she had to do, and it didn't involve running. She had to be quick, cunning, and, most of all, the last one standing.

-

Claire's eyes followed the line of her clanmates filling into the cemetery, a small group of six following close-by with Dai's casket supported between them. Their eyes were filled with sadness, their movements sluggish, but Claire couldn't relate. She was happy to be rid of her father's go-to stalker. Never again would his presence disturb her thoughts, or his reek over-flood her senses – no. He was gone ­– and she couldn't be happier.

"You know you mustn't smile at a time like this," Claire rolled her eyes, giving her voice beside her a curious stare.

"Why do you care? He stalked you, too," the girl beside her nodded, giving Claire a heart-felt smile, her golden eyes staring intently into Claire's.

"Claire, you know you're the last hope for this clan," the girl reasoned with her, "you should-"

"Yeah, well, I'm done hearing what I 'should' do," Claire spat, turning her head back to the crowd of clanmates. "He was a creep, and I'm glad he's gone," she stated, loudly.

"Claire-"

"No!" She shouted, launching herself from the brick wall she had been sitting on. "I will not be ordered around by some-" her eyes returned to the wall, seeing that the girl had disappeared. "You can't tell me what to do anymore, Mom." She whispered, turning away from her mourning clan and stomping back to her home.

-

Her alarm clock was ringing loudly in her ear, the sounds of a handful of people whispering filling her ears along with the clock. Both were equally obnoxious, she thought sourly, but rejoiced in the fact that she could shut one up with the slap of her hand.

Claire drew on her gear, tying her snow-white hair up into a sloppy bun, and running her hand along the scar above her eyebrow angrily. Shaking away the rage, she opened up the window and crawled out it silently, knowing the old-farts would come looking for her in her room before training.

"Morning, Claire," a voice greeted her, the familiar, but all too different sound of Caitlyn, one of her two teammates. "How are you?"

"Just fine, where's Vi?" She questioned, giving Caitlyn a quick look up and down. The usual attire was equipped, her leather boots and skin-tight pants and shirt, no curve was missing today.

"She'll be around in just a minute," she replied, moving aside as Claire walked past her. "Must you stomp around?" She inquired, giving a small smirk as Claire tossed a glare over her shoulder. "Whatever angers you, you should save it for our session – anger is the best motivator."

"I couldn't agree more."