Chapter Four | A Face Refreshed

A sleepy yawn escaped my lips as I turned over in bed. The quiet call of a lone bird drifted into the room, placing over me a veil of utter peace. I had only one wish at that moment, and that was to stay there, bundled up beneath my blankets, for just an hour more.

I should have known I'd never get such a wish. Fortune always seemed to frown upon me, for at that moment, a loud knock interrupted my inner zen and threw me back into a present that I wished not to stumble upon. A groan left my lips this time – not a peaceful yawn, certainly – and I rolled off my bed to answer the persistent sound emitting from the front door.

My walk to said door was not a graceful one. Still half asleep, I stumbled around with the mentality of a drunkard. By the time I reached the sitting room, I was only just getting adjusted to the morning light.

"Setsuko Narita?" a voice asked as soon as I opened the door. It was a genin, one that I had never met before, and not someone I'd expect to see at my door. I noticed the intricate gray yukata that she wore, and realized that she was also a part of my clan. Tilting my head curiously, I wondered what she wanted.

"Narita-sama sent me to find you," she hurriedly explained, quickly looking over my haphazard figure before rumbling on, "He said that he wanted to speak to you immediately."

I nodded slowly. Today was a new day, and every new day called for a new mission. I couldn't imagine what the Head wanted with me, but knew that it must have been important if he'd send someone to summon me.

"Thank you," I called out to the retreating figure. The girl glanced back and nodded silently, and I closed the door to get changed.

Sleep was now far from my mind; I pulled on my gray fighting kimono as fast as I possibly could, dragged my fishnet tights on, and all but threw my headband onto my forehead. Looking presentable wasn't what I was going for...but being on time was. (A trait that had somehow surpassed me.) When I was finished, I grabbed my ningu pouch and bolted out the door, ANBU mask and cloak strewn over my shoulder.

When I finally reached the Head's quarters, I was fully dressed, with my ANBU cloak pinned in it's rightful place beneath my neck. My hood was down, however, and my mask was dangling from my fingers. It was highly disrespectful for a Narita to hide their faces in front of the Head. (It was also rather hypocritic since the Narita's ability to hide themselves was of the utmost praise.)

"Narita-sama," I bowed lowly, kneeling on the gray mat that was stationed just before his own.

His face glowed with kindness. He, too, was dressed in traditional gray, though his attire was more intricate than my own design. A red sash broke up the solidity of the fabric and gave the old man a young appearance. He smiled carefully toward me, "Setsuko-san, you have been of use to the Narita Clan thus far. Thank you."

It was typical for him to start with those words. Though I have only been invited to visit him twice before, he always addressed me as such. I nodded, staring respectfully towards the wooden floor, and he stood up. This was not usual. My golden eyes followed his movements in slight confusion, unsure of why he was not merely sitting as he normally did. Something must have been heavy upon his mind.

"I'm sorry to have awoken you," his voice seemed older than before, as though he was somewhere else entirely, "You must have a mission today, no?"

"...Yes, Narita-sama," I responded, not showing the emotion that I clearly felt.

He made a soft noise and glanced at me, hands behind his back, "Hokage-sama wished me to relay your mission to you here, at the compound, rather that in her office. She said that there wasn't much time."

Never before had I been briefed for an ANBU mission by the Narita Head. I remained silent, and allowed him to explain.

"You see, this is not a normal mission by any standard," he went on, stroking the gruff of hair on his chin, "Rather, you have been selected to tail a certain enemy. You will go alone, without your usual companions, and return with the four ninja that left before you. Jiraiya, Sasuke Uchiha, and Naruto Uzumaki have already gone. Your mission is this: assist them in whatever way possible and ensure the safety of their return." He paused a moment to let this information sink in, and then said, "I wish you luck."

I stayed there in a kneeling position for a moment, and for once frustration twitched upon my brow. Finally, I glanced up and locked eyes with the Narita Head, slowly wondering, "Narita-sama, I just have one question."

He inclined his head, wise eyes boring into mine, and I continued, "...Who is the enemy?"

I had a feeling I wouldn't like this. It was someone I knew, I thought; someone I had met before. The Head's eyes filled with a hardness that I had not seen before. When he next spoke, he did so in such a manner that sent shivers down my spine, "The enemy is Itachi Uchiha, elder brother of Sasuke Uchiha and betrayer of Konoha."

I closed my eyes in grief.

The foliage rushed past me as I ran through the woods. My mask secure on my face, I looked every bit the ANBU that I was. The only thing that differed from my normal attire was the black cloak previously clipped around my shoulders. My silver metal arm plates glinted darkly without the cloaks confinements. The objective of this mission was not to hid my appearance, but rather save those who absolutely needed saving.

I was almost there. I had been on this road before, and had visited this village in the past. My white hair whipped behind me in an almost vehement fashion, and even though it was tied tightly up into a close bun, it still felt heavy and cumbersome.

The outskirts of the village passed me by, and my hands formed a familiar one handed sign. A moment later, my hair was not white, but light blonde and cropped short; my eyes were not golden, but a piercingly dark green; and my skin was not tan, but pale and boney. I hurried forward without a moment's hesitation, quickly changing my ANBU wolf mask for another.

My keen ears could just pick up the sound of fighting, and I knew I wasn't too far away. I wanted dearly to slow my pace – to go back the way I came – but I knew I'd have to face those familiar obsidian eyes someday, and a mission was a mission. I couldn't just allow him to take what he wanted...whatever it was that he did want.

I was sure that my appearance was as flawless as ever, so when I jumped into the fray, I'd be a Narita in disguise – just as any good Narita ninja would be, of course. However, I did not realize that Itachi knew me better than a mere disguise. When I did step into the hotel's hallway, I had a feeling he immediately knew who I was. Nothing seemed to get past those Sharingan eyes.

I assessed the situation, noting that Sasuke was across the hall out cold. A strange blue shark-like man was towering over Naruto and Jiraiya, who seemed unsure of what to do. But I was positive that Jiraiya had a plan. I was lucky to have him here rather than some incompetent jounin.

"An ANBU?" Jiraiya muttered, sparing me a moment's glance before turning his hardened gaze back to the shark-man. "What's an ANBU doing here? And out of uniform?"

I scoffed, but did not answer his question. It would be pointless; words were not going to help us now.

I shifted my gaze to view the enemy, because that was what he was. He certainly looked the part, at least, for he seemed so dark and unyielding that I felt my heart clench. It had been so long since I had seen him – really seen him, not just viewed him as he escaped, or some such thing. My heart was beating erratically, and I knew it would be impossible to stop it. I had thought I'd gotten over him, at least a tiny bit, but it seemed as though all those years had proved nothing. I lowered my gaze to the floor, not wanting to see the eyes that I had so dearly fallen for.

"I would have thought that the Leaf Village would send someone more competent," he mused, and his voice sounded just a I remembered it: impassioned, masculine...like a song that was lost and forgotten.

I knew that he knew who I was. The way he had spoken only confirmed it. He only ever spoke that way to me...or was I just as delusive as everyone thought? Had I already forgotten such a painfully close memory? I turned my gaze on him again, but did not meet his eyes – both for fear of his jutsu and of himself. His words did not make me angry, or uncomfortable, or negative at all. I merely gazed at him calmly, neither reacting to his statement nor taking it to heart.

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