La Speranza Ultima

II. Konoha

Iruka woke, curled up beneath several layers of blankets, warm in their fluffy shelter. He blinked several times, clearing sleep from his doe brown eyes as he sat up, staring at the wooden walls that surrounded his little bed. The twelve-year-old panicked, fearing that Mizuki had found him, and kicked the blankets away, scrambling out of bed and making a dash for the curtain that posed as a door, going through and running for what had to be the front of the house. The brunette boy burst out of the house and paused, eyes wide at the sight before him. People bustled about, laughing and talking to one another, children Iruka’s age running with each other, playing games that were strange to Iruka. The villagers took no notice of the stunned boy, standing in the threshold of the small house that matched all the other houses in the clearing, completing a large, staggered ring, for between some houses rested a garden or two, or a pen for animals.

Iruka tensed when he felt a presence behind him, slowly turning to stare at the old man who towered over him. The pair said nothing to each other, Iruka merely stepping aside to let the man pass. He did so, even closed the door behind him, but he didn’t move away from the boy. Instead, the man smiled, disarming Iruka enough to let the man touch him on his shoulder and draw him close, a comforting embrace that confused Iruka even more. The man eventually crouched before the boy and studied him for a while before speaking.

“My name is Sarutobi,” the old man said, smiling that disarming smile, “what is your name?”

“U-umino Iruka,” Iruka stuttered, whispered, not even believing he had heard himself speak, his voice so quiet and rusty. Sarutobi smiled though and rose, patting Iruka’s head, fingers tangling in the long strands that nearly reached Iruka’s shoulders.

“Well, Umino Iruka, welcome to Konoha.”

Iruka looked around at the village, reddening when he saw the villagers staring at him. Prudently, he stepped behind Sarutobi and blushed even more at the man’s hearty laugh. When the villagers moved on with their lives, Iruka looked up at Sarutobi and returned with hesitance the smile the old man gave him.

“Come with me, Iruka-kun,” Sarutobi said. “It’s time we get you cleaned up.”

Sarutobi waited for Iruka to follow him before he led the boy through Konoha’s streets, taking great care that he didn’t alarm the boy in any way. Iruka had been in bad shape when Sarutobi had found him, starved and dirty and injured, no doubt abused by a caretaker. Sarutobi didn’t know how right he was. Iruka had slept for two weeks before today, watched over by the women of the village when Sarutobi couldn’t, his injures tended and healed, except for the grievous wound on his face. It had already scarred, marring the boy’s pretty face, but it didn’t make him ugly. It just heightened the fact this child had survived so much at his young age.

He led Iruka into the public bathhouse and turned to the boy with a smile. Iruka only stared back and said nothing, looking at the empty, steaming water.

“Just get cleaned up, all right, Iruka?” Sarutobi offered gently, moving to get towels and soap for the child. He kept his back turned until he heard Iruka slip into the water, turning back to the boy with the objects, setting them beside the edge of the bath for Iruka’s use.

“Sarutobi-san?” Iruka asked softly, “You won’t… go anywhere, will you?”

Sarutobi blinked and shook his head. “No, I won’t. Just wash your hair and I’ll get you some new things to wear. I won’t be far.”

Iruka nodded and turned away to splash in the warm water before he finally reached for a rag and the soap. Sarutobi smiled and left Iruka alone, fetching fresh clothes for the boy to wear and returning a short while later, smiling at the boy who now stood wrapped in a towel at the edge of the bath.

“Iruka,” Sarutobi called to announce his presence to the twelve-year-old, the boy turning to look up at the elder man. Sarutobi offered the clothes to the child and then gave Iruka his privacy as the boy dressed.

Iruka tugged on Sarutobi’s back, the man turning around to smile at the boy. Iruka, clean Iruka, stared up at him, doe brown eyes hesitant but slowly learning to trust. Sarutobi took Iruka’s hand and led him out of the baths, taking the boy covered the village and showing him everything.

This was how it was every day, Sarutobi teaching Iruka something new, always taking care not to alarm the boy. He was amazed at the twelve-year-old’s transformation over the next months, Iruka befriending other children his age and playing, allowing himself to be petted and groomed by the village women, most of that time leaving Iruka’s hair shorter than before and often in a tail. But then, Iruka began to grow sullen again, leaving Sarutobi confused, since Iruka had been making such wonderful progress in leaving the house on his own and going to play. Now all Iruka did was wander around the woods, often not coming home until dusk. Sarutobi didn’t want to ask, in case Iruka needed this to heal, but he was becoming increasingly worried, especially after Iruka turned fourteen and asked to have his own home on the outskirts of the village.

Sarutobi watched Iruka work on his evolving house with the older men of the village, watched the boy disappear and reappear, and when the house was finished, Sarutobi finally approached the boy he had cared for now about three years and paused, hearing the beautiful koto music on the wind. He looked toward Iruka, watching the boy listen to the koto music on the wind.

Perhaps he shouldn’t worry so, not if the Lord of the forest deigned to play while Iruka was in earshot.