Disclaimer: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto. The only things I own are my OCs and I gain nothing from writing this besides the pleasure.
.A Fool's Journey – Arcana 0. Fool – Beginnings.
All things must come to an end, the Girl knew this all too well.
In the dark, constricting, deafening silence, the Girl only had regrets. Her life had been filled to the brim with such promise, only to come to a swift end by unforeseen circumstances. She had left behind budding fame, knowledge and fortune. She had left behind family and friends who mourned with no chance for goodbyes; she had left them broken, held together only with sadness and grief.
The Girl wished…she could have another chance. She wanted a do-over, the chance to embark on another journey. She wanted the chance to attain the things she worked hard for. She wanted the chance to have a special someone and create a family of her own. She wanted to make sure that she wouldn't leave her loved ones broken again. She wanted to make sure that she saw her life through to the complete end, nothing like the butchered end that she had been dealt.
So, when the silence was shattered by sharp screams and cries and when the squeezing darkness was pierced by light and the hands of giants, the Girl knew that her wish had been granted.
The Girl knew all too well that all things must come to an end but she also knew that at every end, there was another beginning.
With all her otherworldly memories in one small head, the Girl travels she knows not where.
She is The Fool.
February 5, 283.
It was ironic.
The day of his mother's funeral was the day of his daughter's birth.
Dressed in black, he sat in the white room in the hospital with bated breath as he awkwardly listened to the screams of his wife in labor. He had had conflicting feelings: he wanted to go home, to mourn for his mother's passing yet he also wanted to be by his wife's side, to see the birth of his child. He had lingered next to his wife's bed, his eyes glancing back and forth between her and the door before Biwako had shooed him away, ranting that if he had reservations, then he had no place in the delivery room.
He had merely stared at the woman before leaving without another word.
When the doors slammed behind him, once again, he wasn't quite sure what to do: head for home to mourn or remain in the hall to wait. Eventually, he wandered over to the desolate waiting area and dropped into one of the seats strewn about.
For what felt like an eternity, he sat there listening to Chiyome's anguished cries along with Biwako's stern voice, feeling completely and utterly helpless. His face tightened when he felt a familiar chakra signature approaching and he let out a soft sigh when he heard the sound of footsteps entering the area.
"Danzō?"
His head lifted, eyes meeting those of Hiruzen's. He eyed his friend's white robes, minutely noting the dissonance between their clothing as he inclined his head in greeting. "Hiruzen. What are you doing here? Don't you have work to do?"
"I've been looking for you. Chiyome is in there, yes?" He nodded towards the door as he took a seat next to him, apparently oblivious to the yelling.
He grunted out an affirmative. "Have you gone deaf, Hiruzen? Can you not hear the screaming?"
"Screaming tends to automatically become background noise the older one gets." His lips quirked up in a rueful manner. He then waved a dismissive hand. "Biwako practically tore down the door trying to get here to Chiyome when she got the news…" His slight smile fell. "I hear you were on your way home from your mother's funeral. My condolences, friend."
He nodded shortly and Hiruzen clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "Madoka-obāsan was a sweet woman. I'm sure she is watching over you along with your father."
Again, he nodded, not quite sure what to say. Finally, he settled on a subject change. "What was it like…for you…when Taro was born?"
"Hectic." He replied immediately. "Between Biwako's volatile moods and Taro's constant crying, I felt that being stuck in my office doing mountains of paperwork was easily the lesser evil." He chuckled. "But I can say that the wonder never quite fades away, even after years have passed."
He wanted to say that his wonder had long since faded away, following Chiyome's numerous miscarriages but he didn't voice his feelings. Instead, he laced his fingers together and rested his chin on them, sending a sideways glance to his childhood friend. "Is that why Biwako is pregnant again? Because the years certainly have passed, Hiruzen. How old are you again? Forty-one?"
The man known as the Third Hokage snorted in surprised amusement, his face coloring slightly as he scratched a cheek. "W-well, these kinds of things happen when a man loves a woman." Indignantly, he added, "And there's nothing wrong with my age! I'm still in my prime, I'll have you know!"
He snorted softly and a small smile settled over his features as he shook his head, unable to stay impassive at Hiruzen's words. He was about to give another snide comment, however, a particularly sharp scream that sounded uncannily similar to his name forced him into silence. Unable to stop his body from jolting and his expression from darkening, he rose from his seat, intent on entering the delivery room regardless of whether or not Biwako wanted him there.
Before he even moved, however, a firm grip landed on his shoulder. "Danzō."
He sent his friend a heated glare over his shoulder. "I'm not going to sit here twiddling my thumbs while Chiyome and my child could be dead. This is my las—"
He cut himself off abruptly, eyes narrowing even further as he slowly released the tension building in his muscles. He hadn't meant to say that much, hadn't meant to nearly blurt out his true feelings to Hiruzen of all people. He surely wouldn't understand how he felt—not when his wife had already given him a child and was preparing to give him another. Shrugging off Hiruzen's grip, he adjusted his shirt and seated himself back down, making sure to send the man a glower that expressed his current feelings. Hiruzen merely breathed out a sigh, shook his head and returned to his previous seat next to him.
The waiting room again descended into silence.
He waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Until…
A shrill cry rent the air and made his ears ring painfully. A few minutes later, Biwako's head peeked out from the delivery room, a soft smile on her face as she beckoned him closer. "You can come meet her now."
His feet seemed to move on their own, drawing him towards the room where the little thing was making so much noise from. Biwako's hand tugged his sleeve, pulling him along and, before he knew it, he was standing next to Chiyome's bed. She smiled up at him with a sense of triumph and pride that was softened by the exhaustion pervading her features. He tilted his head incrementally to the side, eyes moving down to the tiny bundle that had yet to cease its—her, he corrected himself—wailing. He wiped a stray strand of hair from his wife's forehead before he turned back towards Biwako.
"Why is she still crying?"
Chiyome laughed quietly, rocking the girl slightly. "S-she has…been in a sack of l-liquid for…about nine or so months, Danzō. She's still...getting used to t-the outside w-world."
"I didn't cry that much when I was born."
His father and grandfather had said it indicated early discipline; they hadn't been wrong. His lips pursed as he tried to ignore Biwako's and Chiyome's giggling. "What is…her name?"
His wife's eyes glimmered wetly as her smile turned tremulous. "H-Hisoka. I d-decided on just as I held her i-in my arms. Her name will be…Hisoka Shimura."
He nodded shortly, carefully extracting the girl—Hisoka—from his wife's arms when she gestured him closer. The newborn squirmed in his grip and he felt awkward when Biwako took it upon herself to readjust his hold. He wanted to both shoo her away and thank her at the same time but he merely settled on silence as he took in the child's features.
She was tiny, seemingly smaller than most newborns though he wouldn't actually know from experience. Wisps of hair were barely visible, the color difficult to make out at first but he was able to discern the color as orange. His lips twitched down as he cast a quick glance to Chiyome's burnt orange locks, lightened with age but still just as eye catching. Her eyes were still scrunched closed due to her nerve grating shrieking but glimpses of brown irises peeked from beneath her lids.
"She is…" not what I wanted. "…not what I expected." He frowned, handing off the girl to Biwako's waiting arms.
The Sarutobi wife clucked her tongue as she placed the crying child into the hospital bassinet. "Babies are often not what we expect them to be. That's why such remarks should not be uttered until the child is old enough to prove themselves." She shot Danzō a certain look before giving Chiyome a comforting one. "I'm taking Hisoka to the nursery now, Chiyome. The nurses will get you situated and, if all goes well, you'll be home with your baby soon."
"T-thank you, Biwako."
Danzō took a step closer to Chiyome's bed, cupping her cheek tenderly as he tried to ignore the look of betrayal on her face.
"Excuse me, Shimura-sama. We need you to vacate the room. You'll be able to visit your wife soon."
He nodded curtly before taking a step back to allow the remaining nurses to do their job. Giving the woman one last look, he finally exited the delivery room. Hiruzen met him, a light smile on his face as he patted his friend's shoulder.
"She looks to be a strong one, friend. I'm sure she'll be able to make you proud."
In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to punch Hiruzen in the throat because he was obviously lying to his face. They both knew the child didn't look strong because the only thing she had done in her first moments of life was bawl her eyes out for some inexplicable reason! He hadn't even held the little thing for that long and he could already tell she wasn't going to grow to become much! Knowing his luck, the child probably had some sort of illness or she managed to inherit Chiyome's weak constitution and immune system! Then, Hiruzen had the nerve to come up to him and say such idiotic things when he had a strong son and was getting another one!
He looked at the hand resting on his shoulder blankly. "Your words are too kind, Hiruzen."
Being reborn was not going exactly how she had hoped, i.e. painlessly.
When the cold, sterile air hit her wet form, something happened to her new body.
She began to…buzz, as odd as that sounded.
It was hard to explain. Like busy bumblebees, something inside her new body hummed and thrummed constantly. Something vibrated inside her veins, within her blood and throughout her limbs, coiling around her heart and pooling in her stomach. It felt like liquid heat filled all her limbs, to the tip of her tiny fingers to the tip of her tiny toes. Yet, despite the comparison, it wasn't the mysterious hot liquid that invaded her body that pained her and made her unabashedly wail at the top of her lungs—to be honest, the liquid heat in her veins merely itched.
No, it was everyone else.
Everyone else buzzed as well and it hurt. Too hard, too loudly, too much—other people had too much going on with their persons. In her mind, she wondered why people even buzzed in the first place but it was overshadowed by the fact that she seemed to be the only person aware and subsequently hampered by the violent vibrations; everyone else carried on as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
But, at the same time, they knew something was wrong with her.
She knew this because, following her first week at her new home, she had been taken right back to the hospital.
Oh joy.
"C-chakra hypersensitivity? W-what does that mean?"
The Hyūga's porcelain face was marred by a soft frown as she cast a glance at the slumbering baby. "It all ties into a person's chakra sense or, simply put, the way their bodies react to chakra. Sensor-nin—I assume you know what those are?" She continued at Chiyome's hesitant nod, "Most sensor-nin have chakra supersensitivity, that is, a more honed chakra sense that allows them to detect and analyze chakra signatures more precisely than the average ninja." She gestured towards Hisoka. "Your daughter has hypersensitivity. Hypersensitivity—in and of itself—is rare and can be detrimental for those wishing to become ninja. Usage of ninjutsu, genjutsu or anything that utilizes chakra is often too painful for those with hypersensitivity to attempt."
"It's difficult to pinpoint the reason for this but, over the years, we've deduced that it's a problem with a person's own chakra network and chakra coils. For this reason, one must be careful when dealing with techniques that forcibly inject foreign chakra into their system, such as medical ninjutsu or the Gentle Fist." She paused as her mouth twitched into a sympathetic grimace. "Well, they should be more careful than the average ninja. At any rate, the reaction could be decidedly...deadly."
He frowned deeply, giving Chiyome's hand a reassuring squeeze. He mentally rolled his eyes as he gently twined his fingers with hers, to keep her from permanently damaging them with the way she was twisting her hands.
The Hyūga doctor jotted a few things down on her clipboard. "It's difficult to tell exactly how severe her sensitivity is at the moment. There is also the fact that her own chakra coils are beginning to develop, another reason for her crying spells and additional agitation."
"W-well, what can we do for her?" Chiyome asked quietly, anxiously.
The woman jotted a few things down on her clipboard. "For now, the best thing for your daughter is to isolate her—at least until she gets a bit older." The woman added quickly when seeing the deepening frown on Chiyome's face. "Try to keep as many people away from her. The first step is allowing her body to develop and adjust. We can schedule monthly check-ups to monitor her progress." She offered the couple a small smile. "Don't worry, Shimura-sama, Chiyome-san. I will do all I can to help your daughter."
"Thank you so very much, Saori-sensei." Chiyome smiled amiably as she scooped up the slumbering child, who whimpering quietly.
After a few more minutes of Chiyome and the Hyūga quietly conversing, with Danzō adding in few words, they left the hospital. Noticing the way Hisoka was about to start her fussing, he placed an arm around Chiyome's shoulders and swiftly performed the Body Flicker. The three of them ended up in the child's nursery.
"Only chakra sensitivity." The orange-haired woman said blissfully, obviously still ignorant to what that meant for the girl's chances as a productive member of the Shimura clan. "Only chakra sensitivity. Nothing too terrible, is it, Hisoka-chan?"
The girl merely cooed and babbled in response, shifting in Chiyome's arms and Danzō couldn't help but look at the two of them in irritation and distaste.
"I have work to take care of. I assume the two of you will be fine?" He questioned.
The woman smiled at him as she seated herself down in the rocking chair next to the crib. "Don't worry about us. We'll be fine." She rocked the child, apparently falling into that blissful state women tended to get when around babies. "Just fine. Right, Hisoka-chan?"
His gaze lingered on the two of them for a moment longer before he finally let the two of them be.
He had other, much more important business to take care of.
Hisoka.
That was what the woman with orange hair had called her.
…
A new name.
A new identity.
A new life.
Another journey.
She was happy yet she was also sad.
In gaining new life, she had lost everything else—her family, her friends, her possessions. Everything of old was gone, never to be recovered.
Only her memories of them remained.
If not for them, the Girl—no, her name was Hisoka now—didn't know if she would've been able to hold on for as long as she had. The new faces of her parents and her possessions overlapped with that of her old but she never forgot them, never confused one for the other. They mingled together in her mind, flashing before her eyes like a requiem for all that she had lost and a fanfare for all that she had gained.
She was sad but she would continue to be happy. Regardless of the hardships or whatever was wrong with her new body, she would be happy.
She was in another place now, with another chance to do things right.
She was alive.
For the past several months, she'd been confined to her (admittedly comfy) house with no signs of being let out of it. Her only company had been a pretty woman with orange hair, whom she quickly realized was her mother, and her primary doctor, a blind lady with dark brown hair, whom she visited once every month. She wasn't quite sure about how the woman was able to examine her without actually being able to see her but she supposed stranger things had happened. Oh! There was also her stuffed toy bird, whom she'd named Ho-oh because it reminded her of something from her past.
The buzzing wasn't quite as painful any longer but that was most likely because her contact with the human race was relatively minimum. Only downside was that she was kind of bored and a little lonely.
At least I have you, Ho-oh. She pet the toy gently on the head before giving it a tight squeeze. You'll keep me company.
From the clothing her mother wore and the build of their house, the Girl could tell she had landed in a sort of Asian culture. The language was the biggest indication, sounding something akin to Japanese, though, she was no near an expert in that; her knowledge was moderate but nothing special. Save for games, anime, manga and a slight interest in the mythology and history of the country, she had no idea what half of the things that came out of her mother's or her doctor's mouth meant.
Despite those things, she had seen glimpses of people wearing clothing eerily similar to those of her old homeland and it confused her a little. The architecture also wasn't completely of Japanese build, resembling things she couldn't even begin to describe. Another mind-boggling observation was that English existed; she had actually heard her mother speak in heavily-accented English several times in the past few months. Granted, the things she said were usually a few words blurted out in excitement, anger or shock but English existed and Hisoka knew that if she were in some feudal era, it should not have existed—at least she didn't think it should.
Where am I?
Idly, she nuzzled Ho-oh's head as the buzzing began to pick up, indicating that someone was approaching her room. Without the debilitating pain the buzzing used to give her, she noticed that each buzzing had different…frequencies, if that made any sense. Like her new body was a cross between a radio antenna and a tuning fork, picking up on signals and responding to the vibrations. Everyone buzzed differently and at varying frequencies; some people buzzed a little too strongly while others not so much and there were even some that lingered on the very edges of her nerves, never drawing any closer to her but never completely retreating.
With that comparison in mind, Hisoka knew the approaching buzzing wasn't her new mother. Her mother's buzzing wasn't very strong, didn't irritate her too much now that she spent so much time around the woman. Now, that she thought about it, her mother's buzzing reminded her of...Pumpkin Spice Tea, funnily enough.
It just felt like a drink but she couldn't explain why, though.
It was like when she tried to tell her friends about how she could taste a smell. Everyone had looked at her weirdly; she wondered if people in this world would look at her weirdly if she told them their buzzing felt like a taste and a smell.
She giggled a little at the thought just as the door to her room opened and she peered at the man who stood in the doorway, just staring at her. Hisoka smiled happily, carefully placed Ho-oh down and struggled to pull herself up with her crib's bars. When she was stable, she rocked back and forth, hoping that the man would realize that that she was finished with her nap time and that she wanted to be held.
He merely stared at her.
She giggled and clapped her hands.
He left the room, closing the door silently.
...
She pouted and plopped back down, picking up Ho-oh for comfort.
That had been her new father.
There was...something familiar about him that she couldn't quite put her finger on.
He was an interesting one, though. His buzzing was practically nonexistent. It was there but it was like he was somehow suppressing it, keeping it at bay and keeping it from harming her. She could tell he was handsome, once upon a time, and that he had been through many trying times, going by the large x-shaped scar on his chin, the age lines on his face and the heap of bandages covering his right eye. He didn't smile much—if at all—and often stared down at her with an inscrutable, one-eyed gaze that made her squirm, not just from discomfort.
Apprehension? Fear? There was something, deep in the depths of her mind that called out to her in warning. The girl wasn't sure what was wrong but she knew that she didn't like it.
She wasn't very fond of his buzzing, either. It reminded her of black coffee. She stuck out her tongue as that ever constant buzzing made the taste surface in her mouth and she reached from her sippy cup to wash it away with juice. Her father's buzzing was bitter and left a terrible aftertaste.
How mean. She pouted as she looked down at Ho-oh. Why doesn't my new daddy like me, Ho-oh?
The toy's shiny black eyes seemed to gleam in response and Hisoka could hear a tiny voice emanating from the red toy's beak. A child's cry is the puppet master's pulling of the strings. A parent is but a puppet who has no choice but to obey.
It must've been a figment of her imagination combined with some after-effects of being reincarnated along with a slight case of stir craziness but, for some reason, Hisoka found nothing out of the ordinary with a stuffed animal speaking nor did she find anything wrong with its suggestion.
In fact, it sounded like a wonderful idea to her.
So, with a trembling lower lip and tears prickling in the back of her eyes, Hisoka let out the most annoying, ear-splitting wail that she could because if her new father wouldn't pay attention to her willingly, then she would force him to pay attention to her.
From the shadows, he watched Danzō-sama's shoulders tense and the brush in his hands snap in half as a piercing cry filled the air.
"Hinoe."
"Yes, Danzō-sama?"
His master leaned down, pulling out another brush before continuing with his work. "Go tend to the girl. Do whatever it takes to make sure she stops crying and keep her from crying until her mother returns." He paused, glancing at him over his shoulder. "That does not include harming her mentally, physically or emotionally. Go now." He waved a dismissive hand.
He disappeared in a flicker with his next objective in mind. Seconds later, he was standing before Danzō-sama's offspring, watching blankly as the child abruptly started, hiccuped and blinked up at him with wide, brown eyes.
First objective: complete. His head tilted slightly to the side as he watched the child pull herself into a standing position and continue to stare at him. Proceed with secondary objective.
His fingers twitched at his sides as he thought about the optimal way to continue; he never had a mission that detailed pacifying an infant and, for a moment, he was...unsure of what to do.
An image of Danzō-sama's wife surfaced into his mind. There were various ways that she dealt with the child's crying. When the girl was hungry or thirsty, she would give her a bottle, however, he could see that the girl already had juice in her crib with her, half-filled with orange juice.
The next thing she would do was...
His cheeks were burning for some reason.
He was certain it was not an enemy jutsu nor was it a genjutsu. The heat was only there when he thought about Danzō-sama's wife and offspring. Perhaps, it was a sort of fūinjutsu that Danzō-sama had placed on the child's crib to deter would-be hostile units. He had never heard of or experienced a seal that could detect thoughts—Danzō-sama's knowledge and abilities were far beyond that of his own.
Hinoe checked beneath the crib, felt the sides, even picked up the child and placed her on the ground against some pillows to check beneath the mattress. When he could find no trace of the seal, he concluded that Danzō-sama had programmed it to be harmless towards Root operatives, barring that burning sensation that flooded his face when his thoughts took an odd turn. He picked up the child, cradling her against his chest as he pulled off a glove.
Then he…patted her posterior. Small children did not properly know how to control their bladder so it was necessary to check their diapers. Hinoe felt his lips twitch; there was also another way to check a child for excrement, however…that would require the removal of his mask. Only under a specific set of circumstances were they allowed to remove their masks. This did not seem like one of those circumstances.
The child is not crying. He noted as he stared at the child, whom stared back at him owlishly. She is not wet nor should she be hungry.
He placed her back in the crib. Again, his fingers twitched at his sides as he tried to figure the best way to approach his mission. Danzō-sama had told him to make sure that she didn't cry anymore until his wife returned. She was out shopping for groceries, however, it was common knowledge that she took her time and, therefore, took longer than what was expected for simple domestic trips.
He watched the child pick up her stuffed toy and cup and hug them to her chest before holding out her free arm towards him. Automatically, his hands slid under her arms and he was once again cradling her to his chest. She pointed a tiny finger towards some of the toys scattered on the ground and he could assume that the child wanted to play with them. He crouched down before arranging himself on the ground, with Danzō-sama's offspring in his lap.
After carefully setting down her things—or as carefully as a small child with minimal control over their motor functions could—she clapped her hands together before reaching towards a stack of card, large eyes looking back up at him in expectation. Hinoe picked one up, examining it idly. A flash card for numbers. He glanced down at the child, who beamed up at him.
Understanding what she wanted, he displayed the card while holding up one finger. "One."
She giggled, holding up one tiny finger. Noises emerged from her mouth as she tried to mimic his words, though, the girl ended up coming short. Again, he repeated the number, waiting a few more seconds before going to the next card.
The rest of the hour spent as such.
Hisoka giggled as she hugged the masked man tightly as he placed her back in her crib. Logically, she should've been scared and wary of the unknown person suddenly appearing in her room but she just assumed that if he wanted to kill her or kidnap her, he would have already done it by now. Instead, the masked one had checked if she was wet (she giggled inwardly at that) and showed her flash cards when she asked him to. She could even feel hesitance and nervousness in the person's buzzing so she highly doubted his aim was to harm her.
Besides, his buzzing reminded her of…lavender fabric softener—the kind that made you sniff your own clothes when you thought no one was looking. Surely, no one with buzzing like that could be a danger to her.
But… there was something about their clothing that was familiar. It was like with her new father—something about them made apprehension and nervousness seep into her mind. Something in her mind told her that she had seen the odd mask and weird armor but... she just couldn't put her finger on it.
She squeaked when her new friend disappeared into thin air and her mother peeked her head into the room a few seconds after. The woman entered fully, holding up a cute dress that was obviously meant for her but Hisoka couldn't help but rub her eyes furiously in disbelief.
The masked man just disappeared! Had she been imaging him the whole time!? Had it all been a figment of her imagination that a masked person had picked her up, checked if she was wet and showed her how to pronounce numbers for the past hour!? Speaking of which, how had the man even entered in the first place!? Hisoka was sure that he didn't come through her door nor did she feel his buzzing approaching!
He had just appeared out of no where!
She looked down at Ho-oh, waiting for the toy bird to speak, just as it had done earlier because surely Ho-oh would have something to say about this.
It remained silent.
…
Hisoka decided not to question it anymore, lest she found herself having a mental breakdown.
.
EDIT 19/07/2015: Changed the spelling and edited some grammar. Changed the origin of Hisoka's name.