582Misao chewed on a wooden skewer, her bored expression basically invisible underneath the long hair that flowed down her face and covered her eyes like a veil. Her hidden gaze lazily followed the movements of a red-haired boy around the same age as her as he moved around the clearing, energetically throwing out the graceful movements of a taijutsu kata.
"C'mon Misao! Spar with me!" called the boy as he paused between movements.
"Don't wanna," replied Misao, leaning back.
She was reclining against a tree trunk in a small forest clearing, with the remains of her lunch next to her. She hadn't even had meatballs for lunch- the wooden skewer that was in her mouth was just something she enjoyed chewing on. She always made sure to have one close at hand.
The red-haired boy pouted for a moment, before good-naturedly smiling. He turned back to his kata.
"Suit yourself," he said sunnily, "You'll regret it when I surpass you and become moth… sensei's best student!"
"Whatever," said Misao, turning her eyes skywards to look at the clouds, marvelling at their patterns and shapes.
"Ready… go!"
The stern-looking woman wearing a black gi swung an arm down, signalling the start of the battle.
Misao watched this idly, only taking the slightest of stances but not making any other moves. Her opponent, the red-haired boy, narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure out what she was doing.
"C'mon! Where's your stance?" he called, he himself crouched in a ready position.
"Don't need it," said Misao disinterestedly, still chewing on her ever-present skewer.
The boy huffed.
"We'll see about that!" he said, charging forward.
Misao watched as he approached her, unmoving. Her opponent, while three strides away from her, suddenly dived to the left, turning a somersault before launching off both hands and lashing out with both feet in a move loaded with centripetal force.
Natsu Ame (Summer Rain) – it was a standard move in Kumo Tsuigeko's (Cloud Chaser) repertoire. The acrobatic movements leading up to a powerful strike was characteristic of the style and this was reflected in the many combos and moves that it had fathered.
However-
Misao dodged the clumsy kick by gracefully moving in the direction that her opponent was falling, before twisting her body sinuously around his intended landing zone, messing up his rhythm and recovery. Her opponent panicked and hit the ground sub-optimally, his legs trying awkwardly to get underneath him to return to a ready stance.
Misao didn't give him the opportunity, naturally, wanting to finish this as soon as possible. She sprang up onto her hands, wrapping her legs around the boy's armpits and heaving mightily, pulling him up bodily and sending him crashing back down behind her.
He lay there unmoving for a few moments, groaning, before the older woman stepped between them.
"It's over," she announced, "Misao wins."
Misao brushed her fringe back over her eyes, the hair having been swept back by her movements. Offering her hand to the downed boy, he grasped it gratefully and she pulled him up with a small amount of effort.
"You're too strong," he remarked, equal parts awe and envy.
Misao shrugged, but didn't say anything.
The older woman had no compunctions about speaking in her place, though.
"You're just too weak, Taro," she said scornfully, crossing her arms, "You've been learning Kumo Tsuigeko ever since you could walk, and the progress you've made is just pitiful. Look at Misao! She's been training for only a fraction of the time you have, and she's miles ahead of you! She's gotten a high level move like Kohan Hansha (Lakeside Reflection) down already, and your Natsu Ame, by comparison, is simply awful. You'd be better off just swinging your fists like a gorilla. You're a disgrace to the style, and you're a disgrace to me."
Misao winced. She snuck a glance at Taro, who took this fury with a bowed head and an empty expression. She opened her mouth to say something, but Taro caught her eye before a sound could escape her lips. He gave the slightest of head-shakes, and Misao slowly closed her mouth again.
"I think you should take a good, long, hard look at yourself, young man. Think about your life and what you're doing with it. This style is our legacy, our pride, and I don't know how you can allow yourself to shit all over it, shit all over me, by going off and fucking around doing gods know what instead of doing what you should be, which is training and discipline. Honestly, where did I go wrong with you? Get out of my sight, you blasted boy, I can't bear to look at you."
"Yes sensei," intoned Taro impassively.
"Don't call me that. Obviously I haven't taught you shit. You saying that only cheapens the word."
"Yes… mother."
Misao found Taro stubbornly punching a tree trunk, the repetitive thunks ringing through the quiet forest.
"You alright?" she asked softly.
"I'm-"
Thunk.
"-fine."
Thunk.
"She loves you, you know. That's why she's so hard on you. She cares for you."
The thudding stopped. Taro didn't even turn to look at her.
"You can cut the crap," he said bitterly, "She doesn't love me as much as that fighting style. All she sees me as is a successor to the style, the direct son of the founder, the one to pass it on to the next generation."
"I'm-"
Taro didn't let her finish.
"You're nothing. She's proud of you as a student, as her genius prodigy, but you're not going to be the inheritor of the style. All you do is make it all the more clear how much of a failure and disappointment her son is. How she wishes you were her daughter... oh what she would give for that to be true."
Misao said nothing, and a few moments of silence after his outburst, Taro began to resume his beating of the tree.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
Misao quietly moved behind her friend, and just before he was going to sink his fist back into the battered wood once more, caught his wrist in an unrelenting hold.
"Let me go, Misao," Taro ordered.
"Your knuckles are busted," she replied quietly, seeing blood underneath the strips of cotton binding his hands, "You can't use Kumo Tsuigeko with ruined hands."
"I don't care," he said, "Let me go."
"No."
Taro twisted violently, trying to rip his hand from her grip, but Misao followed his motion, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him to the ground in a single move. But even forced to the ground like this, Taro wasn't done. Kumo Tsuigeko wasn't a grappling taijutsu. It was a momentum based style that relied up on building up kinetic energy to deal crippling strikes. It had been created by a woman, after all, and thus took the small body size and lower power into account.
So in close quarters like this, where she had no leverage and the effectiveness of her techniques were minimised, Misao was actually quite evenly matched against Taro. Taro was physically bigger and stronger, just by virtue of being male, but Misao was still quite skilled and had the positional advantage.
They tussled for a bit, rolling on the ground, each one trying to force the other down. They pushed and pulled, wrestling and tugging, each vying to push the other over and assert dominance, their bodies a veritable cacophony of motion. It wasn't a serious struggle, just a bit of fun among close friends who've known each other for many years. Their movements contained no malice or anger, instead being fuelled by a friendly competitive drive. Their battle turned playful, and wide smiles soon broke out on both parties' faces. fuelled by laughter and cheer.
Finally, Misao emerged the victor, pinning Taro down and sitting on his chest triumphantly. She looked down at him, chest heaving with exertion, hair dishevelled, face flushed and dripping with beads of sweat, but her lips were curved in a smile of pure joy, and her eyes danced with mirth.
To Taro, who could do nothing but stare up at this sight, his long-time friend had never seemed so radiant.
"You have such lovely eyes," he said before he could stop himself.
Misao looked down at him, her beautifully brown doe-like eyes widening in sudden surprise. Her lips parted in an O-shape, before the crimson heat of a deep blush spread across her cheeks. She suddenly realised how close she was to Taro, and the way she was straddling him. His clear, sky-blue eyes stared up at hers in abject wonder, and a warmth she couldn't identify burst into life in her chest.
"Sh-shush you," she said, stammering a little as she tried to kick her thoughts back into order, "if you've got time to be giving compliments to girls, you should be training harder."
"I don't give out compliments to just any girls," Taro replied softly, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Wh-what's that supposed to mean?" said Misao, flustered.
She flicked her fringe back over her face, in part to try and give off the impression that she wasn't rattled by her friend's comments, and in part to hide her blushing face.
Taro just smiled and said nothing. Misao shook her head, trying to clear her mind of any unwelcome thoughts. She got off Taro's chest, a curious reluctance tugging at her heart as she did so.
"C'mon, get up lazybones," she said, offering him her hand.
"You're one to talk," said Taro, taking her hand and heaving himself up.
Misao tried to ignore the way her thoughts lingered on the warm skin-to-skin contact where their palms met, and the slightly longer than usual way Taro held onto her hand before letting go.
"How's this? I don't have much free time, but I'll see what I can do to help you in your taijutsu in what little I have. Some one-on-one tutoring. Whataya say?"
"Sounds good," said Taro, smiling at her, "Thanks a lot."
"I-it won't come free! You have to buy me a meal every week- my choice!" said Misao quickly, the blush returning.
"Sure," said Taro, his gaze never leaving her face.
Misao fancied that even though her hair covered her face, Taro could see past that flimsy veil and could see that unexplainable redness dusting her cheeks like a field of springtime poppies on a verdant hillside.
But she was surprised to find that she didn't mind that much. Not if it were Taro.
"Why am I watching this?" asked Naruto, blushing a little after watching the intimate scene, "I feel like we shouldn't be watching this. Should respect their privacy and all, right… ahahah?"
"You'll see," remarked Juubi, "I mean, even though it's fun, I have better ways to get my kicks than to watch you get embarrassed at watching some adolescent by-play. But yes, I have my reasons to show you the blossoming relationship between Misao and Taro. Anyway, what do you think of Kumo Tsuigeko?"
"It's really… flippy," said Naruto thoughtfully, "Those guys were jumping all over the place. I don't think I could do that."
"Exactly! So that leads me to my next point. We're going to be changing up your training a little bit."
"How so?"
"Well, there's a reason I'm teaching you these styles in this order. Your body, as it is right now, is too weak to handle the good stuff. That's the long and short of it."
"Hey!" protested Naruto weakly, despite knowing it was true.
"I know you want to learn Gouken (Strong Fist), but you have no idea how to punch or kick properly, and you're not strong enough to do the proper amount of damage even if you did know. So we're building you up. Your first style was Jyuuken (Gentle Fist) which uses minimum power and emphasises control and technique. And although it's not really a style, you then learned Shimiho (Silverfish Strides) and Kireruho (Snap Step), which give you non-linear and linear mobility respectively. This next one, Kumo Tsuigeko, is another style that does not emphasise having power, but it still packs a punch. It works through building up power through movement. We're working ourselves up to striking style, after all," explained Juubi.
"So how does that explain how it will affect my training?" asked Naruto.
"Well, as your baseline body was sufficient to use Jyuuken already, training for that was just kata for muscle memory and dream-sparring and dream-experiencing for theory. Ditto for the Shireruho. Neither of those two require much in terms of body type. However, it's different for Kumo Tsuigeko. You need a certain amount of strength, balance and flexibility to pull off those moves. Therefore, starting from today, we will be adding some physical conditioning to your routine. It won't be anything too harsh, don't worry."
"I see," said Naruto, mulling over this, "I hope this won't affect my schedule too much."
"Like I said, don't worry," said Juubi, "And you've got the basics of Jyuuken down already. All you need now is to commit the movements to muscle memory and then work on the advanced techniques. This physical conditioning will help your Jyuuken too- speed is critical if you're using a disabling style like the Gentle Fist. And your Shimiho and Kireruho just need practice- you've already mastered the basic principles of both of those already. If you can just get the hang of using Shimiho in battle instinctively, it'll improve naturally. Your issue with Kireruho is just control and nailing the landing."
"At least I'm not going flying anymore," muttered Naruto, remembering his disastrous first attempts at using the Snap Step.
"Aye. So don't worry about this new stuff. It'll be a piece of cake. Relax, it's just some physical conditioning to get you into shape."
"RELAX, MY ASS!" screamed Naruto as he tore through the field, his golden hair flapping in the wind.
Can you really afford to chat right now? asked Juubi, amused.
The reason for Naruto's distress was clear. He was running as fast as he could to escape from the vicious bulldog made of rock that was bounding after him, huge fangs bared and pebbles streaming from its mouth in a frightening parody of slobber.
Doton: Kuufuku Ishi Ryouken (Earth Release: Hungry Stone Hound)- wonderful little jutsu, isn't it?
Yes, yes, yes, wonderful… call it off!
Juubi just laughed.
You need some encouragement to get the most out of your training. Katas? Dream-training? Boring. Now THIS is real training!
Fuck you!
Naruto could feel his heart hammering away in his chest as he pumped his arms and moved his legs as fast as he possibly could. He was seriously pushing his limits here. When he was fifteen, he was never one of the fastest kids his age- instead being solidly middle of the pack in terms of speed. He wasn't the slowest by a long shot- Choji and Shikamaru claimed that title, but Kiba and Sasuke were the definite speedsters of their year.
But right now, at the speed he was going at, he was sure he'd be giving even those two a run for their money in a straight foot-race. However, he wouldn't be able to keep it up for long- he could already feel his legs trembling and ready to give out. Humans weren't supposed to maintain a full-out sprint for this long. He'd be able to lessen the strain and increase his speed if he used his chakra, but he knew that wasn't the point of the exercise. Physical training was supposed to push him to his limits and beyond.
But it wasn't supposed to get him mauled!
Feeling one leg stumble as it refused to carry him any further, the lactic acid eating at him and feeling like red-hot elastic wrapped around his muscles and joints, Naruto stopped and whirled around, knowing he couldn't run any further. The stone dog growled and leapt his now-stationary target's throat.
Naruto met it with a Jyuuken palm full of chakra, slapping it aside. The stone dog had no tenketsu, but it still had structural weaknesses that Jyuuken could exploit. The strike hit the hound in the crook between its neck and shoulder, cleaving the head right off.
No chakra! Cheating! chided Juubi, and Naruto could easily imagine the spirit wagging its finger reproachfully.
The head and body of the dog hit the ground separately, but to Naruto's horror, from each half more earth poured, filling up the air like liquid in a mould. Soon, there were two growling stone dogs, both as large and rabid as the original. But this time they didn't immediately fly at him. Instead, they circled him predatorily, like sharks around a hapless swimmer, the wild look in their eyes not diminished in the slightest despite this display of restraint.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he said out loud.
Okay, stage two, I guess, said Juubi, Survive against the dog.
As if on cue, the dogs launched themselves at Naruto from opposite sides, and the only answer that the unfortunate boy could find it in himself to give to Juubi was a strangled, "Hakkeshou Kaiten (Eight Trigrams: Palm Revolving Heaven)!"
"Are you alright?" asked Yuuka looking back at him in concern.
Naruto sat down behind her, looking like he had just lost a fight with a trash compactor. He was looking thoroughly dishevelled, with ruffled hair and torn clothing, and grass and dirt stains mixed with blood amongst the various cuts and bruises that decorated his exposed skin.
"Yeah," said Naruto, his voice muffled by the arm he had buried his face in as soon as he had taken his seat, "I've never realised how much I hate dogs though. I never did see what Kiba and Kakashi saw in them. Stupid, drooly things."
"A dog did that to you?" asked Yuuka in surprise.
"Two of them. Vicious things. And I swear those things are more coordinated and skilled than some of the genin cells back in the village," mumbled Naruto.
And because the stone constructs had no internal organs or tenketsu to strike, Naruto's Jyuuken wasn't able to disable them the way he was used to. He could to strike at their bodies' weak point like before, but without chakra to boost his power, his strikes, coupled with Jyuuken's naturally soft motions, simply lacked the power to do anything. He had tried punching one once, but a poorly thrown punch and solid granite didn't really mix, and Naruto ended up with a mental guffaw from Juubi and a busted hand.
He ended up spending the battle moving defensively, using the Byakugan and Jyuuken movements to ward off everything while Shimiho kept him moving around the unnaturally fast hounds which did not tire or overheat. It wasn't perfect, as evidenced by how he was so roughed up, but he would say that his performance had been serviceable. If it were against humans where he could actually utilise his Jyuuken properly, and not invulnerable hellbeasts with perfect coordination and furious intensity, then it would probably be more than enough to deal with them.
You did good! Tomorrow is strength training, and the day after is flexibility training!
Fuck my life.
Naruto trudged home, Miu at his side chattering away about the day's events as he nursed his injuries and grumbled to himself about Juubi's sadistic training methods. Luckily, his natural regeneration was kicking in and the bites and scratches were already fading.
"Naruto Uzumaki!"
Naruto turned to stare at the small gang of hooligans who were blocking off their path. It was becoming a common sight to him now, as it seemed everyone and their mother had put together a gang.
"That's me," he said, annoyed, "What do you want? If it's more of you Ragnarok idiots, I swear I'm going to put the lot of you in hospital. I am not in the mood for this shit right now."
"Yes, that's us! Ragnarok!" yelled one of the thugs, proudly.
A streak of yellow was all anyone saw as Naruto suddenly appeared right in front of the unfortunate boy who had spoken in a violent rush of wind, one arm outstretched in a palm strike. The recipient of the blow gurgled as all the wind left his body and a throbbing pain consumed his stomach. Collapsing onto his knees, he coughed a few times before passing out with a pitiful groan.
"I don't need to hear anymore," announced Naruto, bending into a Jyuuken stance as he stood amongst the stunned gang members, "I do feel the need for a little bit of stress relief, after all."
"Aaah!" roared one of the guys behind him, lashing out with a hammer fist that Naruto easily weaved around, his activated Byakugan allowing him to easily notice and dodge the telegraphed punch. He landed a hit onto the side of his assailant's chest but that was all he could get out before he had to shift out of the way of a kick and a punch from two other Ragnarok members.
Huh, thought Naruto.
He actually hadn't had much practice or experience fighting while being completely outnumbered like this. The most he had taken on was Kouji Oshiro and his little group of henchmen, and Koga the Kicker and his little group of henchmen. The former was fought under battle-lust, and the latter was against a group of enemies already demoralised after he had taken out their leader easily in a one-on-one situation.
Jyuuken wasn't the best style for fighting many people at once, either. It was a duelling art, meant to completely and utterly shut down a single opponent. Many of the fancily-named Jyuuken techniques were combos meant to be devastating when used in a single target context, not extended to hit multiple enemies. With this many opponents, Naruto wasn't able to land more than glancing Jyuuken strikes against his foes before he was forced to devote his attention to dodging and parrying. The blows he landed were painful, sure, but without chakra, he wasn't able to disable anyone or otherwise take them out of the fight.
So annoying, he thought to himself, using Shimiho to weave between an assailant and strike his stomach twice, but unable to get anything else in because he was forced to jump back to avoid a blow to the back of the head.
"Enough," he muttered, using Shimiho again to position himself right in the middle of a large clump of Ragnarok members, "Hakkeshou Kaiten!"
Without chakra, a Kaiten in such a position was less devastating than it could have been, but it was still undeniably effective. Naruto's rotation, coupled with his fast moving, swinging palms, struck several enemies and sent them sprawling away, groaning, leaving the immediate area around him clear.
Naruto fell into a quick stance and immediately saw an opportunity. His Kaiten had created some space, and now was the perfect time to strike, when the closest enemies were stunned and reeling. He burst forward once again with Kireruho, palms moving rapidly, finally given the time to use his hard-earned Jyuuken skills.
"Hakke Kokoro Sashitousu Yari (Eight Trigrams Heart-piercing Spear)!"
"Hakke Juuho Soushiken (Eight Trigrams Twin Lion Fists)!"
"Hakke Tenchi Tenohira Kougeki (Eight Trigrams Heaven and Earth Palm Strike)!"
"Hakke Seirei Kasumi (Eight Trigrams Spirit Haze)!"
In the blink of an eye, he incapacitated a handful of gang members, moving from one target to the next fluidly as each one fell to his quick moving palms. But the remaining thugs were quick to recover, moving into position to cover their fallen comrades.
Luckily, a flash of movement caught Naruto's eye, and he realised with relief that Miu had finally joined the fray. Keeping an eye on her using the power of the Byakugan, he began to fight his way towards her, a mounting respect rising as he watched her fight. She had a flashy, highly acrobatic fighting style that seemed to be based off complicated aerial manoeuvres and flexible wide-reaching attacks that made great use of her elasticity and reach.
However, it didn't seem to account for the user wearing a skirt, because the way Miu was jumping around, she was flashing Naruto quite a lot, and that was even without the benefit of the Byakugan.
Naruto blushed and turned his head away, a blush drifting onto his cheeks.
White, he thought, embarrassed.
"Don't look away, fool!" yelled a delinquent, swinging his fist onto the apparently distracted Naruto.
But he didn't account for the Byakugan (how could he?), and Naruto effortlessly moved his head out of the way with the help of the All-Seeing Eye, elbowing his attacker in the face as he did so. It wasn't even Jyuuken, he just struck out of reflex.
"Aaaaahhh!" screamed the delinquent he had just hit, shocking Naruto at how loud he was, "Blood! My blood!"
He clutched at his face, and as Naruto had evidently landed his elbow flush onto his nose, blood was indeed decorating his face- pouring from his nostrils and painting his chin red.
"I'll kill you!" roared the thug, pulling out a long switchblade, "The world will know Urugawa Takashi after I kill you, and Ragnarok will finally acknowledge me!"
Naruto growled.
"You punks really should stop throwing that word around," he said darkly, "But if you want to play with weapons, I'll gladly oblige you."
A shining kunai spun into his hand almost like magic, the familiar weight resting comfortably in his grip. His opponent hadn't seen this action, however, enraged as he was, and he lunged forward with the switch knife outstretched, intent on stabbing Naruto.
Naruto smartly pivoted, grabbing the wrist of Urugawa and diverting it away from his body while simultaneously thrusting forward in a short, powerful motion, driving his kunai into the other man's side.
Immediately, Urugawa dropped the knife and clutched at his bleeding wound, eyes wide. But before he could even open his mouth to scream, Naruto reversed his kunai and slammed the butt of it directly into his forehead, sending him reeling back, knocked out cold.
"Y-you stabbed him!" came a choked cry from behind him.
Naruto turned around calmly, wiping his kunai off on his shirt. A delinquent was standing there, a shocked expression on his face and a metal pipe held limply by his side.
"So what?" he said, "He was trying to kill me. In fact, you yourself have a weapon. What's wrong with me using one in return? Besides I didn't even kill him. If he gets to a hospital any time soon he should be fine. Call an ambulance for him later, would ya?"
The delinquent didn't seem to know what to do.
"By the way," said Naruto, taking a threatening step towards him, his pupil-less eyes narrowing, "I'm warning you right now. If you insist on swinging at me with that pipe, I will respond in kind. With a weapon. Understand?"
He wiggled the kunai in his hand, the wickedly sharp edge glinting in the fading light, red drops still dripping from the edge. Gulping, the delinquent dropped his pipe and raised his hands in surrender.
"Don't hurt me," he said in a small voice.
Naruto didn't even answer. He strode past the delinquent and re-joined the fight alongside Miu, the knife disappearing into who-knows-where.
Your weapon handling skills need some work too… remarked Juubi thoughtfully.
Really?
Yes, you really only know the basic applications of your kunai. There's so much potential you're wasting.
Oh… I always thought my knife skills were fine.
In your past life, they were fine. However, that's because the bulk of your fighting was done with chakra and jutsu, which for the most part were far superior for combat at every range. However, in this world, we don't have the luxury of throwing a fireball or Rasengan at every idiot that comes at us with a weapon, and don't even try to tell me you want to fight off a swordsman with your bare hands.
Man, Naruto moaned, more training?
Don't worry, it'll just be some knife handling and projectile skills to start with. Then we can work our way up to the good stuff. Wouldn't you want to know how to use Zabuza's Kubikiribouchou (Decapitating Carving Knife)?
Naruto brightened up considerably.
You're right, that would be nice, he replied, while continuing to fight his way through the thugs, Miu doing likewise at his side.
"Man, what a pain," groaned Naruto as he stretched, "I wonder when these Ragnarok shitheads will get off my dick. Isn't it clear I don't want to join their shitty gang?"
Miu giggled a little as she walked beside him, holding her bag in front of her and looking as prim and proper as she was at the start of the school day, no traces of the fight she had just been embroiled in visible. Naruto, by contrast, was walking beside her with his uniform in disarray, with random patches of blood (none of it his, thankfully) staining his clothes. However, his appearance was scruffy not because he had been roughed up, but simply because he disliked wearing his uniform the proper way.
They reached the familiar gates of Ryouzanpaku and, each taking one half, Naruto and Miu heaved it open.
"Naruto! Miu!" came a cheery voice.
Apachai bounded down like a falling meteor, crashing down and waving enthusiastically at the two teens.
"Hello Apachai," said Miu, smiling.
"Yo," said Naruto with a lazy wave.
There was a soft meow as a ball of tawny fur uncurled itself from Apachai's shoulder and stretched out.
"Oh. That thing's still around?" asked Naruto.
As if responding to his voice, the cat daintily walked down Apachai's back and hopped down to the ground, before strolling over and nuzzling against Naruto's leg.
"Jeez, this thing is so attached to me," said Naruto.
Hearing a grinding noise behind him, he turned around to see Miu practically vibrating on the stop, her eyes glued to the cat rubbing itself against his shin with a satisfied look on its furry face.
Naruto bent down and picked up the cat, which didn't seem to mind, judging by the way it shifted to get comfortable and then closed its eyes. He ran a hand through its fur, and it purred in contentment, the tail swishing lazily from side to side.
"So lucky…" said Miu enviously.
Wordlessly, Naruto turned to her, the cat still in his arms, and her eyes lit up as she eagerly moved forward to join him in petting and pampering the feline.
"I wonder what its name is," mused Naruto, tracing a finger along the cat's back and flicking an ear playfully.
"She doesn't have a name, apa," cut in Apachai suddenly, "You should give her one."
A name… thought Naruto.
"How about… 'Matatabi'?"
The cat looked up at him as if it had heard him, its brilliant hazel eyes staring at him for a long moment, before it blinked slowly and tucked its head back into the crook of his elbow, seemingly accepting the new name.