Disclaimer: I have no claim to the copyrights of Naruto.

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Chapter Seven.

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"She ripped it apart, Lord Hokage. With her chakra. And then she collapsed."

Genma stood in front of the Sandaime's desk chewing thoughtfully on the senbon sticking out of the corner of his mouth. The Hokage was leaning back in his chair, hands folded together and resting on his stomach. The old man hummed softly and produced a pipe from one sleeve, tapping it lightly on the desk.

"How unusual for a civilian, only priests and exorcists can perform that sort of technique. She isn't from our world though, so who knows what children there are capable of." He fell silent again as he cleaned out his pipe and filled it. Genma shifted slightly. "How much longer will she be in therapy?"

Genma shook his head. "She was supposed to have another month in therapy before she was strong enough to leave the hospital. After what she did to the spirit the doctors want to postpone her discharge and keep her under observation for a while longer."

"I see." The Hokage lit his pipe and puffed on it for a moment. "Watch her."

Genma straightened up. "Yes, Lord Hokage."

The old man grunted and leaned back again in the chair. "I've sent a message to Vhal along with the necklace. We may get a response or we may not. They are not the most open of countries."

The Hokage studied him, no expression in his eyes. "Dismissed," he murmured after a minute.

Genma bowed and went out.

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I slept off the exhaustion of the fight until late the next afternoon. One more flare up happened but it was fairly mild and passed in a few minutes. Doctor Kanami checked up on me a few minutes after I'd managed to sit up against the head of the bed and I tried to tell her I was mostly fine but apparently you should never tell a doctor that.

Ever.

They'll give you this little look and write something on their clipboard and make you feel all tiny and childish. Vaguely irritated too. It's quite uncomfortable and makes you squirm until they leave. I sighed quietly once the door had shut behind her and carefully pushed myself over to the left side of the bed so I could dangle my uninjured leg off the edge. I reached under the pillow and pulled out the sketchbook, flipping through the pages. Half of them were used but I'd been doing more writing than drawing.

The ANBU had been taking my notebook every so often and transcribing my notes but the fact that they returned it before they thought I missed it, returned it at all in fact and left me alive, unharmed in my bed let me know that they hadn't deciphered the sequence or language yet.

Stopping on a blank page I tapped my pen against it and wondered for the thousandth time what I was doing here. My mother's necklace seemed to have originated in the land they called Vhal, meaning my mother was more than likely from here. This world I mean. I've no idea what Vhal is. The goddamn series never focused on anything but Naruto this and Naruto that and everything else was badly plotted around it. I don't know why I like it so much. Maybe because there were so many cute characters and I loved much of the world building Kishimoto did. He did suck at plot a little.

I puffed up my cheeks and made a face before sighing noisily. I tossed the notebook to the side and leaned back, glancing over to the clock someone had hung above the door one afternoon before I had come back from therapy. It was almost time for lunch. The surprising thing about the hospital lunch here was that it was not conforming to the stereotypical bland, tasteless hospital lunch. The dishes came in a variety, although in small portions and they were all delicious and well prepared. Honestly, even though I missed the food from home, it was difficult to dislike the food here.

Century eggs though. Those things were vile beyond belief; I felt bad leaving them back when they turned up on my food tray but I just couldn't take them. They smelled so bad.

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A half hour doze later I was shaken gently awake by a nurse with vibrant red hair carrying a food tray. The door was open and I could see an ANBU standing outside. Numa wandered in just as the nurse was helping me set up the tray across my lap.

"Hey," I greeted him as the nurse finished and went out. "Haven't seen you in a few days, how's it going?"

The room door was still open and I figured the ANBU was still there, listening to me seemingly talk to myself.

He smiled and sat down on the edge of my bed. "Interesting. I saw what you did yesterday. Are you a miko?"

"A shrine maiden?" I shook my head. "No. I was a hunter. I killed spirits and monsters that hurt people, even if the people under attack didn't know monsters existed."

I uncovered the bowls and sucked in a deep breath as tantalizing aromas began drifting up from the dishes. "Oh wow, where do I start?"

"Rice and vegetables first, then the tofu," advised Numa. "Finish up with the soup and then the drink."

"Thanks." I picked up the chopsticks and the rice and dived in, eyeing the doorway as I ate. There was no suggestion of anything beyond it but the nurse had left it open after he had left. I nodded towards it.

"Do me a favor, Numa, and see if anyone is out in the hallway, please."

He gave me a bemused look for a minute. When I continued to eat and stare at the door he got up and went over to look out.

"The guard is out there but no one else."

"Mm," I mumbled around a mouthful of tofu. "Alright." I supposed he was listening to me talk to myself. "Could you close the door then? That is, if you can?"

Numa jumped slightly and stared at me for a moment, and then turned and carefully grasped the edge of the door and gave it a gentle push. It swung gently closed and he turned to face me.

"So, how long have you been a ghost?"

His shoulders hunched up and he pulled in on himself a little. "Twenty years." He answered. "A few people have seen me over the years but they've mostly been people who were dying or when they saw me they thought I was some sort of hallucination or delusion."

I nodded as he explained. Most people only see spirits or energy masses under extreme physical or mental stress. However the only individuals capable of looking at spirits are, as usual according to many sources, children and those born with the ability to see.

This all sounds clichéd but seeing spirits is one thing. Even if you can see them actual interaction is a whole other story. As a matter of fact most people who see ghosts usually had some sort of attachment to the spirit when it was alive, or, the spirit had some sort of attachment to the place it was haunting.

"Numa, come on. Why do you look as if you think I'm going to scold you or something?" I patted the bed. "Come sit down again. I won't hurt you."

Numa came slowly over and sat on the end of my bed, and leaned on one hand. "You said you're a hunter."

"I am." I set down the tofu bowl and picked up the soup container. A mild aroma rose from the bowl as I took a sip. "Have you ever hurt anyone?"

He shook his head.

"Possessed anyone?"

Another no.

"Have you ever wanted to?"

"Of course not."

"Have you otherwise interfered with anyone in a way that might cause them harm?"

"No," he declared.

"Well then." I allowed myself the briefest glimpse of his aura, inhaling deeply at the flash of pain. "I don't see any reason for me to exorcise you."

I sighed into my soup. "Actually, I may need your help. How much do you know about me? How long have you been watching me?"

"Since I saw the Hokage and Lord Danzo come to your room. They rarely go anywhere together, and Danzo never visits the hospital for anything. I know what you told them and what they told you." He shrugged. "Why would you need help from a dead man?"

"I'm a stranger in a strange land. As far as culture goes, this culture is wildly similar to the Japanese culture back home, which is so very different from the culture I'm from that I'm going to need help navigating day to day niceties. I'm not going to promise that I'll be a fluent as a native in no time at all, in fact I'll probably never get the hang of it and I'll offend quite a bit of people but I might as well put a little effort into it before my capacity for politeness get shot to hell."

He shot me a look I couldn't read. "You'll be fine. Being polite isn't hard."

"Really?" I asked. "So what do you do when you receive a gift from someone? Or say hello?"

"Accept the gift and just say hello?" he shrugged. "What's difficult about that?"

"Let me rephrase; is there a specific way you're supposed to accept the gift?"

He hesitated. "Well… yes. What do you mean? Of course there is a proper way to show appreciation for receiving something."

"Effusive expression of gratitude and bowing, neither of which I am particularly good at. In my culture, gift giving is far less complicated and not even required in some cases. I personally don't bring gifts unless I know you, because I prefer to have my gifts genuinely appreciated than smiled at and then stuck in some corner." I paused and looked at him, gauging his expression.

"You don't really understand this, do you?"

He shook his head. "I don't but if you think you need help, I'll try my best."

I smiled. "Thank you."