Kitsune no Akuryō - Under Maintenance

"Arigato..."

Konnichuwa minna! Another update for Kistune no Akuryō is here. Enjoy!

I've been to forgetting to do this because people have been following faster than I've been updating, so I'll dedicate this chapter to people who followed me since: BubblyReader, litemeon, and AD*mnFiddle. Thanks for following.

    I trudged towards Konohagakure. I knew what to expect, but somehow I hoped that  maybe this time would be different. These thoughts ran through my mind as I slipped into the nearest neighborhood. I was grateful that I wouldn't have to go through the gates to get into the town premise since ROOT was situated inside its walls. I was glad that I could quietly disappear into a place that no one would know or into which dare to follow me.

    I began my rounds. It began as it always did. I knocked on the first door. It opened wide and was quickly slammed shut. The person had gotten a clear view of my whiskered face, a dead giveaway to who I was. "Arigato," I whispered as I had been trained. I went to the next door and knocked. The same happened, and, again, I repeated my gratitude. So my day continued and the doors soon opened only a crack as if the villagers feared that they would be the next victim before shutting it again. "Arigato," over and over again I said that word, that useless and empty word that now slid off my tongue. I went to each door to make sure I would not have to do it again tomorrow. Danzo-sama was not kidding when he told me that he would check on me. After my returns from these mission he would mysteriously be absent from ROOT for a day or two, or however many days or so that I was absent on my missions. The other ANBU had no clue what or why he left, but I knew. I was certain of it. He was checking each and every house to which I came and hearing whether or not I had offered service. I remember because a week and a half after the end of one of my early mission, he was in a storm of rage at me. That was one of the few times that I was called to Danzo-sama's office. On two occasions he found out that I had skipped houses or I had continually only helped certain people without attempting to offer my talents to others. He strongly reprimanded me for withholding my service from the people of Konoha.  After those few times I dreaded summons from Danzo-sama like the plague, like how everyone else feared me...

    I endured this door slamming for days. As I walked, I felt people's eyes on me as they watched me pass. I might look their way, and they would quickly turn away holding their children close to them. I continued me routine: knock on the door, see if for once someone, any one of these people of Konoha, would let me help with anything and reply to whatever they gave me with, "Arigato."

    At first, after so many times of failure, I wanted so badly to yell in these people's faces, make them suffer, ruin their homes, their monuments. I had tried it once actually. It was so relieving to let out all that anger in paint, and someone finally talked to me. SOMEONE FINALLY TALKED TO ME, and it wasn't Danzo-sama. It was this Iruka, Iruka-sensei as I liked to call him, who was yelling at me. I could hear his anger, but I could also sense his concern. It warmed my heart back then. Of course, he made me clean off every drop of paint, but he didn't leave me alone to do it either. He stood over me and watched me.

    I missed him now, but I had promised myself that I wouldn't be making any more messes, and Iruka-sensei never seemed to be around anyways. I was slowly making my way to the one place where I could find solace: the Uchiha complex. 

   As I neared that section of town, still knocking on doors, still having doors shut in my face, but now not caring, I noticed that the Uchiha neighborhood was eerily quiet. My happy jaunt slowed. I stood at the gates. The streets were barren. A door creaked in the wind. I crept into the neighborhood, "Hello?" I came to the first door, Oba-chan's home and knocked. The door eased open against my strikes. "Oba-chan?" I ask as I sneak into the room. The late morning light shown on the floorboards.