OBD: Chapter Seven - An Inquiry into the Nature of Loss (Patreon)

The second chapter will be uploaded in a few hours. Still feels wonky for some reason.

-An Inquiry into the Nature of Loss-

The Next Day.

Yuna didn't need her Clan's gift to recognise it. 

The acrid scent of disinfectant mingled with the coppery tang of blood, a combination that could belong to only one place: the hospital. She did not enjoy coming here; too many bad memories, each one intricately woven into the essence of the unnaturally sterile air. 

She stretched, her bones popping like distant fireworks, and sat up, disregarding the medic-nin's anxious murmurs beside her. With a deliberate tilt of her head, she slapped the side of it a few times until her ears popped and sound flooded back into her perception.

"Are you okay? Inuzuka-san? Can you hear me?"

Yuna flinched away from the medic's concerned face. "Sages," she said, her voice a rough croak. "You can stop shouting. I can hear you now."

"Oh, thank goodness," the medic breathed, a tangible sigh of relief. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore... What happened? Why am I so sore?"

"...You've been unconscious for some time, Inuzuka-san," the medic replied, each word carefully measured.

Confusion knitted her brow. "How long exactly is some time?"

"...About a day?"

…

The next few hours were especially surreal. The medics, relentless in their caution, insisted on observing her a while longer before releasing her to the clutches of the intelligence division's goons.

"What was the nature of the illusions Uchiha Sasuke subjected you to?" asked one particularly annoying operative of Yamanaka descent, his voice devoid of inflexion.

Yuna fixed her gaze on him, silent for a beat too long. "Subtle," she finally said. "The technique was alarmingly refined and subliminal. If it weren't for his general real-world inexperience and his mediocre grasp of how natural scents blend in different scenarios, I might not have suspected I was trapped in Genjutsu at all."

"Since you were aware, why didn’t you break out earlier?" the blonde man pressed.

"I couldn’t," Yuna replied, her voice a slow drawl as she picked at the bandages around her palm. "At first, it was easier to dispel it in the initial moments of the fight, when my guard was up. But when I dropped my defences, trying to show him I wasn’t trying to kill him, it felt like I was dealing with an entirely different opponent. It was disconcerting, knowing I was in Genjutsu, breaking it, only to realise I hadn't."

She leaned in slightly, her eyes narrowing. "...To be honest, I’m not even sure any of this is real."

"...You are not sure?" The operative asked, arching a brow.

She shrugged. "The smells seem right now," she said. "But how do I know he hasn’t just improved that aspect of the illusion?" Yuna looked up to meet the gaze of the man across from her, suspicious. “How am I sure you haven’t gotten better at that as well?”

For a few moments, the operative stared at her, his confusion palpable. Then, slowly, his gaze lit up in understanding, and a slight frown formed on his face. Yuna eyed the two men as they exchanged nods before rising to their feet to leave.

“Thank you for your time, Inuzuka-san,” the other operative of civilian descent said. “We’ll be taking our leave now. Please, try to rest; there will be an inquiry into the altercation between yourself and your charge in a few hours and I think it would be in your best interest to be perfectly lucid.”

“...Alright,” Yuna intoned, her flickering gaze still narrowed in suspicion as she searched for flaws in reality that would reveal the illusion for what it was.

…

The inquiry was held the next day in the Hokage's office, a room bathed in the soft, golden light of late afternoon. The tension was palpable as Yuna—still unsure if she was truly free of her student’s illusions—watched the key figures settle into their seats. Lord Third sat at the head of the table, his weathered face betraying the weariness. To his right sat Danzo Shimura, expressionless with cold unfeeling eyes. Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado, the other two council members, flanked him, their expressions stern and unreadable.

The Uchiha patriarch, Lord Fugaku, exuded an air of rigid authority. His sharp gaze was fixed on the Hokage momentarily, before swivelling to pin her place. Unsettled, Yuna looked away breaking his gaze. Besides the terrifying man sat her clan head, Lady Tsume, her posture irritable and eyes darkened in annoyance.

The Hokage cleared his throat, drawing the room's attention. "We are gathered here to discuss the earlier incident involving Jonin Yuna Inuzuka and Genin Itachi Uchiha. This is a matter of great importance, and I urge everyone to remain composed."

"Hokage-sama,” Fugaku interjected as he leaned forward, his tone icily polite, “I appreciate the gravity of the situation. However, before we begin, I would like to hear the details from Yuna herself."

Hiruzen nodded, signalling for Yuna to speak. She stood, visibly uncomfortable under the scrutinising gazes of the council and the clan leaders. "I... I apologise for the incident. This was entirely my fault, and I believe, in hindsight, that had I done a proper evaluation of my charges capabilities beforehand the entire incident could have been avoided."

Fugaku's eyes narrowed. "...Your mistake nearly cost us the heir of a great clan who also happens to be one of our most promising shinobi. How can we trust you to continue instructing him?"

Yuna felt a cold knot form in her stomach at that but remained silent. Thankfully, she there was someone on the panel willing to look out for her.

"Yuna is an excellent Jonin!” Tsume-sama replied, bristling, her voice sharp. “While she made an arguably significant mistake, I don’t believe anyone here is above doing so themselves! It was an accident, Uchiha-san, and it’s obvious Yuna is remorseful and did not mean any harm! Please consider that before coming to any decisions!"

Homura chimed in, his tone measured. "Intentions and remorse aside, the outcome could have been disastrous. We need to ensure this does not happen again."

Fugaku's gaze remained fixed on Yuna for a few moments longer, much to her discomfort, before slowly easing off. "Itachi's assessment of the situation is clear,” he said, much to Yuna’s relief. “It was an accident, hence, some leniency must be observed. Nevertheless, the Uchiha cannot simply overlook this incident. We must ensure the clan's honour is maintained."

Hiruzen raised a hand to calm the escalating tension. "Yuna Inuzuka will face a penalty. Six months docked pay and a fine of half a million ryō to be paid to the Uchiha as compensation. However, she will retain her rank as Jonin and continue to tutor her charges for a trial period of six months to determine if she is truly competent enough to handle the responsibility. During this period, she and her team would be subjected to a bi-weekly evaluation to ascertain their progress. This solution seems fair, considering the circumstances. But it remains that it must serve as a reminder to all shinobi to maintain constant vigilance and control, especially around their more vulnerable teammates; all in favour, say Aye."

A series of “Ayes” rang out, much to Yuna’s relief.

***

A Week Later.

On his fifth attempt to eliminate the clone agent, number one hundred and three, Itachi released another shadow clone—designated as Agent one hundred and seven—into Training Area Seventy-Two. The newest iteration of himself slipped into the undergrowth with a batch of fresh supplies before vanishing from his perception moments later.

Expressionless, the Uchiha listened and watched for a few moments more before turning to leave. He hoped that Yuna’s wealth of experience at sussing out stealthy opponents would be sufficient to close the capability gap that was starting to form between his different iterations and provide enough inspiration for his newest agent to crack down on his older, more elusive replica. 

It annoyed him to admit it, but Itachi was starting to grow a rather potent distaste for his growing chain of losses, even if said losses were arguably against a more skilled version of himself.