IV

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Arc IV Chapter 15

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Two chunin stood guard, or rather sat guard to protect Konoha’s precious archives.

Sitting behind their heavy desk, the two chunin were occupied with a task of utmost importance, guarding Konoha’s secrets with their lives.

They controlled every visitor. They confirmed their identity and purpose before allowing them to enter their little kingdom of paper.

Whether you were a humble genin or a mighty jonin, nobody escaped the watchful gaze of these valiant guardians. That was how it was supposed to be, but reality differed.

Tick. Fumihiko was confined to a grey monotonic shithole where the flow of time slowed because of boredom. As if time itself had capitulated. Tack.

Tick. Seconds, minutes, hours, days passed before his eyes. Every day, a part of his soul died, devoured by the grey walls. Every day, his sanity diminished. Tack.

Tick. His post didn’t strike Fumihiko as prestigious as it was made out to be. Quite the contrary, guarding the archives was a divine punishment, the wrath of the gods for his past sins. Tack.

Tick. He already spent six months in this inescapable prison and didn't see any way out. Tack.

Tick. Fumihiko cursed his fate. He wasn't made for a clerk job. He was an accomplished, hardened chunin, a few missions away from being promoted to jonin. But now he was caught in the wheels of bureaucracy. Tack.

Tick. Fumihiko despaired. One day he would throw the damned clock out the window. The question was only when? Tack.

Tick. Today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow? Fumihiko wasn't sure. Tack.

Fumihiko ignored the stupid clock and continued reading his book. The Icha Icha series wasn't that bad apparently.

Fumihiko had nothing better to do all day than reading as visitors were rare.

And if they got visit, he and his colleague Shinji didn’t even possess the necessary authority to control them. The majority were jonin, officers, or important clan figures. They all abused the power and constantly pulled rank on them. Very frustrating.

If you tried to check their papers, you earned yourself a series of furious glares. The Hyuga were the worst arrogant douchebags he met so far.

Fumihiko shivered. He still remembered the black-haired girl.

He doubted his eyesight when he saw her. He thought she was a genin pretending to be an ANBU to sneak into the archives. You could buy those white ANBU masks everywhere. So why don’t you give it a try?

He was wrong. The girl wasn't a genin. She was a genuine ANBU, a high-ranking one.

What was up with the higher-ups these days? Promoting little girls to ANBU. She was twelve-years old at most! Twelve! The world was unfair. Little girls became ANBU while he remained stuck here.

Fumihiko sighed. He would never argue with such a temperamental girl ever again. The little princess was way too dangerous for his liking. His instincts warned him, but he didn't listen until it was too late.

She threatened them with her sweet voice when they denied her passage. The next time they blocked her way, she would personally ensure that both of them would be deported to some godforsaken outpost at the northern border.

A cold hole of never-ending darkness where their miserable existences would yearn for every single ray of sunlight. A place of infinite despair without hope.

Fumihiko reconsidered. Perhaps this post wasn't that bad. The pay was good, the working environment peaceful, and he had considerably more free time.

He and Shinji didn't bother her further and let the little devil in black pass. They didn't want to risk a fight with her.

Fumihiko shivered. He feared her. He might be a grown man, but the little girl ... scared him. She was frightening. He certainly didn’t have any nightmares of her once per week.

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Fumihiko read his book. "Shinji, do you think we will ever get out of here?"

Armed with a pencil and a newspaper, Shinji fought against the daily shinobi crossword. The task required his entire concentration. "Who knows, maybe one day."

"Fumihiko, can you help me? I am searching for two words.“

“First word, horizontal, eight letters, starts with an A and ends with an I. Clues, criminal underground organisation composed of powerful missing-nin and dawn.“

“Second word, vertical, thirteen letters, nickname of an enigmatic S-class kunoichi. Any ideas, Fumihiko?" Shinji scratched his head. He needed help.

"Give me the newspaper." Fumihiko closed his book. He scanned the crossword and waited for a flash of inspiration to occur. Inspiration never came.

"Difficult. Aka ... Aka ... Aka ..." Fumihiko tried his best to crack the crossword, but he failed.

The door opened and a visitor entered the archives, a rare sight.

Fumihiko turned his attention to the newcomer, a black-haired girl clad in a black kimono. It seemed the girl had a preference for the colour black.

The girl strolled past them, completely ignoring him and Shinji. She couldn’t do that, could she?

Fumihiko grew irritated. He called her out, "Hey, where do you think you are going?“

“The public library is the other way. Right down the stairs and the corridor left. You can’t miss it."

Asami halted. Her red lips formed a benevolent smile. "I beg your pardon, but what did you say? I think I have misheard."

Fumihiko's blood froze in his veins. An ominous feeling gripped his heart. He knew the girl from somewhere. Her stature, her sense of fashion seemed familiar.

Fumihiko stuttered. "I meant to say that you are wrong here. These are the archives."

“My friend, I am well aware of the fact that these are the archives. So what's the problem?" Asami threatened Fumihiko with an impatient stare.

Fumihiko gulped. "Only qualified people are allowed to enter the archives. Sorry, but we can’t let you pass."

Please don’t hit me, please don’t hit me, please don’t hit me ...

“Really? And why?" Asami raised her eyebrow.

"I don't mean to offend you, but aren’t you a bit young? And shouldn’t a dutiful kunoichi wear her headband? Don’t they teach you anything at the academy these days?" Fumihiko reprimanded her.

"Indeed, I don’t wear this piece of scrap metal as I normally don’t need it in my kind of profession.” Asami giggled.

Fumihiko's eyes widened. He recognised the characteristic giggle. He had never forgotten it.

"Oooooooooohhhhh shit, it's her!"

Don’t panic Fumihiko, don’t panic. Stay calm and focused …

Fumihiko realised he had slipped up. He said what he thought aloud.

Panic! Everything was lost! Abandon the sinking ship! Flee fool, run for your life!

Fumihiko sprang up from his chairs and saluted.

Asami smiled amused. "At ease."

Fumihiko had already given up. He accepted his fate as he was about to meet the northern border soon.

But not everything was lost yet. There was still hope. Perhaps his charm would change her mind.

Fumihiko began sweating. "Excuse me ..."

"Yes?" Asami sounded annoyed.

"I have a question ..."

"Will you really send us to the northern border?"

"Northern what?" Asami didnt understand.

"Will you send us to the cold never ending darkness where our miserable existences will yearn for every single ray of warming sunlight"

"Ah, that.” Realisation struck Asami.

Asami tilted her head. ”Did I really say that? Are you sure?"

Fumihiko nodded and so did Shinji. They remembered her petrifying stare, her suffocating voice.

Asami dismissed their trifling concerns. " Don’t worry, if I meant every threat seriously, then half of Konoha would be six feet under the ground."

"Konoha doesn't even have an outpost at the northern border, but the outpost convinced stubborn two chunin to get out of my way, didn’t it?"

Fumihiko sighed in relief. His heart lightened. She bluffed. Fate had mercy on him.

"If someone asks if I was here, you saw nobody. Do we understand?"

Fumihiko merely nodded. After all, what should he do? Say no?

“Excellent.“ Asami disappeared behind a set of heavy steel doors and entered the achieves.

Fumihiko hoped he would meet the little princess never again. How wrong he was.

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