The Red Maelstrom

[39] Weight of the Mantle

Kohana didn't know what possessed her that day to sit near the Administration Building, tucked between the cement wall of the gated Academy and Hokage Residence. She was sat against the wall as she ate spicy store-bought tuna onigiri, staring listlessly at the sign that hung at the building's façade. And because she could barely taste the food she ate, she opened her second packet of chili powder and sprinkled a fourth of its contents into her next bite. After she swallowed that bite, she sighed deeply. Still, nothing; all that was on her mind was the conversation that transpired the day before, just after the funeral ceremony.

She'd finally told Naruto about the cursed seal on the nape of Sasuke's neck while constantly assuring him that things would be all right. He'd stopped her at her fourth attempt, uncharacteristically silent (then again, that had been a strange, strange day for all of them), and stared at the table for a second or two. It was exceedingly rare to see Naruto in such a state, so contemplative when he preferred to dive into mysteries headfirst. But things were different; Kohana had barely spared any detail, effectively shutting down the guilt she felt over what she and the rest of the team had agreed upon. She believed that if Naruto, the only person whom Sasuke could even breathe easily around, knew, they'd all be able to keep an eye on Sasuke and help him protect himself from Orochimaru's influence.

Naruto had listened intently and understood everything. He had been calm, too, perhaps as a result of the deep exhaustion he'd felt, but Kohana knew that his emotions hadn't been doused in the slightest. Kohana couldn't keep her mind off the quiet, controlled rage that had begun to brew in his eyes. It was a tempestuous rage that didn't remind her of that battle at the bridge, but it was a honed blade that would never dull.

Despite the situation, Kohana found herself staring silently in awe. Was that truly how much Naruto had grown?

Kohana smiled to herself, feeling just a little bit hollow, but content and proud. She felt a complex mix of bittersweet emotions that she could never quite pinpoint and didn't really want to explore at the moment.

That conversation had ended in such an anticlimactic note, but Kohana slept that night with a measure of relief in spite of the grief that continued to dog her heavy-footed steps. For now, things would progress as normally as they possibly could, with Naruto having reluctantly promised Kohana that he would make no mention nor indication—at least to the best of his abilities—of what he knew.

Last night, Kohana had known she could rest a little easier knowing that by telling Naruto, she might have done right not just by her brother, Sakura, and Kakashi, but by Sasuke as well.

"Kohana?"

Jolting out of her reverie, Kohana began to scramble out of her seat in the grass, until a comforting hand touched her shoulder and eased her back down. There was a chuckle overhead before Kohana settled enough to see who her visitor was.

"Easy there," said Iruka, looking equally amused and bewildered. "What are you doing here so early in the morning?" He carefully sat himself down next to her, and without waiting for her response, blinked at the onigiri in her hands. "Didn't I tell you too much chili is bad for your health?"

Kohana drew in on herself with her breakfast clutched tight in her hands. "Might've mentioned it," she murmured, blushing. Iruka simply shrugged it off with another bemused chortle.

"So, what brings you here?"

It was Kohana's turn to shrug. She felt the strange urge to curl up a little bit, and so she slowly brought her knees up to her chest and examined her spicy onigiri. "Couldn't sleep. Jus' felt like coming here."

"When the sun's barely risen? The Yamanaka apothecaries sell some magnolia bark you can use to help you sleep," he offered thoughtfully. Kohana meekly thanked him for it. They settled into a companionable silence, but Iruka never commented on it nor acknowledged Kohana's current state in a way that made her uncomfortable. The last thing she wanted was to be put on the spot for following an impulse that she had yet to understand. It just brought her comfort, being near the residence.