Shio, like any other baby, was adorable. She slept through the night, wasn't fussy, and overall embodied baby behavior stressed parents prayed for.
So it was curious to relatives how Ume, the mother, would shift her eyes and answer in chopped sentences when asked. Perhaps it was because her husband wanted a boy, he was from Kiri after all, and Kaikei just didn't seem too enthralled with his new daughter. It was a bit disappointing, Ume gushed about her baby since she got pregnant—but it goes to show that Kiri-natives just weren't the best husband material.
Ume dreamed of meeting her true love and starting a family since she was a little girl. When she met Kaikei, a merchant emigrating from Kiri, she fell for him almost at first sight. Of course most people didn't approve of their relationship, but Kaikei was different. He wasn't like those barbarians from his home—that's why he came to Konoha, right? They wouldn't listen, so like the heroines in the books, she cast off her family name for true love. A year into their marriage, and Ume got pregnant. It was like a dream. They'd have a family. Even if Kaikei wanted a boy to carry on his business, Ume didn't care if their child would be a girl or a boy, and vowed to love her child regardless.
But little Shio was so… abnormal. Ume first realized it a month after she came home from the hospital. The urge to marvel at the tiny hands and toes of their little creation drove her to Shio's room in the middle of the night. She smiled at the sound of baby gurgles, and froze. It didn't sound normal, like babbling sighs and shrieks. It was like the infant was speaking in tongues; a hissing language that abruptly stopped the moment Ume entered the room.
Ume could never forget that moment. How fast and loud her heart beat in the dark room as Shio focused her big red eyes, sharp and almost burning with intensity, on her mother through the crib bars. The expression was frightening on her pudgy, baby features. It was too serious, and… aware.
And then it was gone. Shio jerked and gurgled and crossed her eyes in the funny way babies did, and Ume could almost believe that whatever happened that night was her mind playing tricks.
Ume stopped visiting her daughter at night. She stopped reading child development books too. She did her best not to look her daughter in the eyes. If she ignored it, if she pretended these…quirks… weren't there, then she'd be fine, everything would be alright.
Ume pretended that she didn't lie awake night after night listening to the hissing language. She pretended that she couldn't hear her daughter in the other room practice Japanese syllables like an adult learning a language. She ignored when her daughter would stare off in the distance for hours at a time.
When Shio, four months later, said her first word—an enthusiastically squealed "Mommy!", Ume smiled and fluttered her hands around the baby, careful not to touch Shio, and pretended that the cold shiver running up her spine was from the air conditioning.
Ume was terrified of her daughter. And she was ashamed of herself for that. Yet she could never bring herself to cuddle and tickle her daughter like she dreamed she would do while pregnant.
Ume remembered the first time she tried to read to her daughter. It was a little after Shio's first birthday when the girl began asking Ume to tell her a story. Ume dreaded the inevitable moment she'd have to teach her daughter to read. She made sure Shio was behind the bars of her crib while she sat in the chair. Beside it.
"Look Shio-chan, this is a book. We're going to read. Can you tell me what this book is about?" she gestured to the cover, illustrated with cartoon kunai and shuriken framing a picture of the first hokage. Shio didn't answer, and Ume let out a shaky, relieved breath. She could do this. "It's about how our home was made in the very beginning. How the strong shinobi came together to create the Leaf village."
Ume, encouraged by Shio's silence, pointed to the title. "These squiggly marks here make up the name of our village. They mean Konoha."
"Konoha?" Shio whispered weakly. Ume looked at her daughter and regretted it immediately. There was that sharpness and intensity that took Ume back to that night. The night she started to fear her daughter.
Ume needed to leave the room. She couldn't breath. Those eyes, those red, red, red, unnatural not child eyes. "Uh-uh-yes honey! I need to start dinner, sweetie—lets read tomorrow, okay? Mommy loves you!" she bent over the crib, kissed the air, and fled the room.
The next day, Shio's room was filled with children's books including children's pictorial dictionaries and kanji workbooks for children. Ume never came in to finish the story, and Shio never asked.
When Shio was born, the fact that she died didn't hit her immediately. It was superseded by the overwhelming urge to live. The details of her former life were muffled by the gnawing hunger to survive, like nothing else mattered. No anger, or grief, or regret. Just the bestial anger and fear of not seeing the next day, and the cold resolve to do whatever it took to ensure that she did.
Eventually, however, the deafening chant faded in the background to allow other concerns aside from physical maintenance. Memories started hazing back into her consciousness. Memories of a life prior to infant Shio's existence. But not one of them explained how she died.
First came her earliest memories. Trivial memories, like shoving food off a highchair and cackling at the tired woman's scrunched up face, which seemed to populate most of the memories in some form or another. Then came the later ones. It was like a million movies all loaded in her head. Most of them weren't so pleasant, however. Most of them involved Shio and the woman arguing with each other. They usually centered on the tired woman screaming and throwing things around the house. She looked so old when she did.
Sometimes the woman didn't yell. Sometimes she cried. But Shio preferred it when the woman threw things at her.
Regardless, each memory ended with a: "I'm sorry. I won't do it again—I promise! And I won't forget it because this time I really-really-super-duper-promise! And I'll try not to argue next time—but there won't be a next time, 'cause I won't do it again", before the two clean the debris in their tiny adobe and settle in the dining room to check the night's homework.
It was like watching the same movie a million times, useless to bother to dwell on, let alone remember. And something told Shio it would be better to leave it alone, to stop looking for the last movie. The same voice that commanded her to live, now urged her to lock these wisps in an iron box and throw it into the sea before she reached the end. They must be harmful. After all, the voice wanted her to live so the memories must be a threat better off locked away in some forgotten place where she wouldn't be tempted to peer into the abyss.
And Shio desperately wanted to listen to the voice. Anything to escape the foreboding feeling of getting too close to the edge. She didn't want to remember everything. What if the next memory is the one she dies in? It would hurt, she instinctively knew, and she wouldn't be able to pull herself back up once she reached the end. Why not stay in the warmth of her new mother who cooed and coddled Shio whenever she looked too deeply into the memories? It was nice there, and safe.
A thousand times Shio smothered the older consciousness. It was so easy.
And a thousand times Shio breathed life back onto the embers before they faded to smoke.
Until one night Shio fanned the flames for the thousand and first time with the words in the English language.
"I won't forget."
She made a million super-duper-promises to that woman, inevitably broke each one too. But each and every single promise, she remembered.
That was the very least she could do.
All she could do.
That old saying "hindsight is 20/20"? Never felt like more of a taunt than it did now to Shio, who now privately dubbed herself a 'quarterwit'.
Can she get a redo? Living as a clueless baby sounded so much better. She'd happily take drooling over herself to remembering how she died. Maybe then she'd be able to reset herself in the IQ department.
She made bad decisions in her last life; everyone does. Dying because of said bad decision and choosing to remember it postmortem? Shio demanded a refund from the IQ and life department.
Kicking the bucket from a tragic yet dramatic betrayal murder plot? Tolerable. Having the last laugh while greedy grandchildren surround your deathbed? Better. Freak accident or scientific phenomenon smiting her? That's acceptable too. But a regular car accident and not taking anyone to hell with her—not even a measly drunk driver? Nope. She hoped the tree she smashed bears horrific scars for the rest of its long life.
It should get self-esteem issues for growing in the way of her stupid life decisions.
Decisions like working late on Christmas Eve and speeding down the highway because "it hasn't snowed for weeks—and nobody's here to stop me".
Obviously, a few brain cells bid her farewell that day. So nature seized the opportunity to experiment with some of the stupid genes from the pool and violently fused human and tree together. Experimentation method used: slide the speeding vehicle off the black iced asphalt and into a ditch. Hybridization attempt number 1094871A173C was unsuccessful. The merge left the human specimen crushed under its vehicle until manual extraction six hours later, and died en route to hospital. The tree specimen, however, still remains a viable test subject.
Yeah.
Happy Holidays.
Aside from pissed, Shio didn't quite know how she felt about that. Avoiding emotional introspection kept her away from miserably soaking in grief and anger and worry. Useless activities she couldn't indulge in. Yet some part of her still mourned knowing her mother would start the New Year burying her daughter alone. Would her mom be financially okay without her daughter to help in her later years?
Shio didn't want to think about any of that. Not one bit. That bit of introspection, she could do without. The only thing she'll take from the experience is: waiting helplessly until she bled out wasn't fun. Dying wasn't fun; she didn't want a repeat.
Living is a top priority. She'd live. Thrive, even. In fact, she'd be to top boss, so powerful that helplessness would be a foreign concept by the time she's done. Lethally stupid decisions are not an option. Especially not when it leads to things like—No! Shio furiously shook her head, though with her baby muscles it resembled a muscle spasm with a punch to the face for good measure. No dwelling on sad things that only make you cry. Only focus on becoming the head honcho of this place.
Be the boss.
Shio stared intently at the device in front of her.
"The purple bird goes tweet!"
"The purple…" Even with the baby-brain hack for learning languages, she only got about half of that. Of course learning a language is always difficult, but did the language have to be an asian language? It's not even close to the Western Germanic language family! It couldn't even be Mandarin Chinese! At least Mandarin Chinese grammar made some sense. Instead, the grammar is so confusing—it must be Japanese or some other ridiculously frustrating language for English speakers to learn. How else could she explain the difficulty she's having as an adult in a kid's body who's still having trouble learning this stupid language.
Pudgy hands gripped the plastic toy as if considering whether to bashing it against the bars of the crib or gumming at it would solve the problem.
That tweeting purple had to be mocking her.
Actually, it probably wasn't.
She's just dumb.
Shio's upper lip trembled, and big tears welled up in her eyes. She wasn't dumb, Shio thought indignantly. She was smart—that toy was dumb!
Immediately, the tears went away and ungrounded cheer replaced the pit of frustration brewing in her gut. Baby emotions are so difficult to manage. Sometimes just occupying a room painted a different color inspired the urge to bawl. Honestly, it's worse than PMS. She physically couldn't have PMS now, and even that thought made her want to cry.
Evidently, she was in a mood.
Again.
Language study time is cut short due to emotional issues. The toy sailed over the crib bars and skidded across the floor noisily.
Like clockwork, Ume headed to Shio's room.
The house shoes muffled the pitter patter of feet, but Shio knew Ume was moving across the living room toward her crib. She could feel it. She also knew that the house to her left is unoccupied, but the one on her right had someone in the living room area, and the mailman just passed by their house—apparently no mail today. Also, the dog walker dude just let his dog poo in their yard and didn't bag it, that dick. She felt that too.
The sensation was reminiscent to playing the "I'm not touching you" game. The closer the finger got, the more "annoying" the feeling became, and the more the participants moved, the easier it became pinpointing their location.
But a finger is a finger, its shade of annoyance is independent from the person it's attached to. This was a little different. As weird as it sounds, Shio could almost taste people. She wasn't really sure if she really tasted people. But honestly, she didn't want to know whether Ume actually "tasted" like sparkles and bitter melon.
"Hi sweetie," a pretty, blond woman stood at the door and fluttered around the room, "you're done with playtime?" She picked up the discarded toy and gingerly set it back in the crib.
"Yes! Now outside go!" Shio gurgled, cringing at her ridiculous grammar skills. She was promptly lifted and deposited into a baby carrier to wait for Ume to finish puttering around to get ready for today's outside excursion.
Ume had some weird aversion to physical contact, Shio realized early on. So even if she wanted to know what this lady tasted like, she couldn't quite get Ume to stay in licking range. She couldn't complain, since she wasn't exactly the most touchy-feely of people either. But Ume felt awkward. Something to work on for her mother. Actually, maybe she could help. Reading with kids required physical contact. Perhaps it could help Ume get over whatever this phobia or postpartum depression quicker. And more importantly, it fulfilled Shio's agenda to be 'Da Boss' in this life.
"No! No! Read to me!" Though Ume would never take the place of her own mother, she liked the lady enough to endure the physical contact—for limited amounts of time, of course. After all, one needs to have some appreciation for the person who changes your soiled diapers, feeds you, clothes you, socializes you, and brings you to the doctor when you're ill.
Ume froze, blue eyes darting around the room like a trapped animal. "Perhaps tomorrow, sweetie. Today is such a beautiful day, and the fridge needs restocking, and…" Ume twisted the straps of the baby bag on her shoulder, and fixed her gaze on the area above Shio's right shoulder. "And Haru-san needs to give an inventory on his stock of metals and fabrics. Maybe tomorrow. If Haru-san doesn't give an inventory then Oto-san won't know how much the company will need for the next caravan. And if…"
Ume continued listing her todo list, whizzing around the room collecting papers and toys from around the room. It's the same stuff she always sputters out, so Shio amused herself by ripping her socks off and tossing them to the floor. Listening to that gets old after a while, and Shio wanted to see how long it took before Ume noticed her barefoot status. On the bright side, though, by the end Shio'll be pretty well versed in how this place does trade. Trade could help her accumulate 'Da Boss' levels of influence.
Their current system was archaic in comparison to her former life's. Her family, they had no last name because they weren't important enough or something like that, owned a relatively small share of one trading companies of the several larger ones that based in this community. They weren't the head honchos who decided the direction of the entire company, but they helped manage the route caravans would take to one of the minor mines, a collection animal husbandry farms, and fisheries frequented by the company. This place didn't seem to hit an industrial revolution, based on the way they did business—they collected crops from multiple wealthy farmers across the country, because most of the farmers stuck to subsistence farming. It smelled a little feudal-ish to Shio. But oddly enough, this place offered commodities that said otherwise.
If she had to guess, this place had the capabilities to start such revolution but hasn't occurred to them yet because of a lack of interest or some other reason. After all, televisions, less sophisticated computers, and printing presses existed here. It's not too far of an engineering leap to enable mass production and standardization for…well, everything actually.
But overall, the system wasn't so bad, but there were no safeguards to the schemes her old life's world's trading system had already cooked up.
She could work with that. Even if it also meant more one-on-one interaction for the street merchants the company supplies. It wasn't all that bad.
Visiting Hiro, an inarguably grumpy old man, is a particularly entertaining endeavor, especially when he'd amble about his desk and spontaneously erupt in a storm of foul curses for everything and everyone under the moon.
Although, as much as she wanted to go outside and gather information, it would be nicer if Ume could set a date on when this "tomorrow" would happen.
Today, Shio learned how to write her name. She has gotten much better at speaking the language, and well on her way to becoming fully literate.
Japanese names are meant to mean something because they use kanji that stand for other words.
For example, popular names like "Aiko" meant "loving child", "Hanako" meant "flower child", "Masumi" meant "true purity", "Kukiko" meant "snow", and so on and so forth.
The name "Shio" wasn't a popular name.
It meant "salt". The kanji used to write her name is the same one used to write salt, as in table salt, or potato chip salt.
Imagine her surprise upon learning that bit of information.
Sheer disbelief coerced her to check four times if this was all a mistake.
What kind of parent names their kid 'salt'? Why not something common like "gentle child" or generic like "pretty child". She had to be salt. Why, of all the possible condiments and spices, did she have to be that one? Not "ginger", not "paprika", not even "pepper"—!
Salt.
Ugh.
The most boring condiment.
Well she couldn't exactly expect too much when her not-mother's name is "plum".
And considering her father's name means "tuber", she got pretty lucky.
For all she knows, she could've ended up with some name that means "asparagus", or "puberty".
On the bright side, she lived in a ninja village. So her time running around and calling herself "puberty" would be relatively short if painful. Like her life.
This is a serious situation. Her mortality rate just shot sky high. This is seriously bad, as in her chances of violently meeting a painful end…again… kind of bad. Maybe if she was stuck in some "holy crap this is a bad fan fiction where I'm stuck in the Naruto world! Yay ninja!" deal she'd be fine with it. At least that would insure against ending up as some nameless, faceless rotting corpse because of some equally nameless, faceless shinobi felt violent that day.
Her plans of starting an industrial-technological revolution to build a business-centered empire?
Poof!
Like those stupid ninja tricks.
Why?
Numerous reasons, really. They all boiled down to "Ninja strong! Civilian weak! Haha, sucks to be you".
In her past life, she faintly recalled watching Naruto years ago in her high school years. Sure she forgot a lot of parts, but she remembered the military-oriented village set up. Based on Konoha's version of Mount Rushmore, Shio was stuck in relatively close to the actual story. So in the near future, she could look forward to Pein attacking the village? Thousands of civilian lives lost there. But she doesn't even have to wait that long, just until the Chuunin Exams come around! When Orochimaru attacks the village, he summons obese freaking snakes to help—which the toad dude flattens with his equally huge freaking toads!
That event right there? Oh, that's probably about another thousand lives right there. For each toad-snake pair that appears to flatten or save the village, that is.
Having her intestines intimately acquainted with the backside of a toad?
No.
It took her a month to get to this point of reasoning. A month since Ume read her the children's ninja book. A month filled with panic attacks and silent freak out sessions in between Konoha's version of "phonics" or whatever they call the series that helps kids learn to read.
Not one of her proudest moments.
But now that's all behind her. Now what to do with her current situation. She could still become the expendable, helpless civilian entirely dependent on shinobi for protection, who'll face life-threatening situations a handful of times with a high mortality rate. If she's lucky and plays her cards right, she could still build a trade empire, and make herself not so expendable.
The main downside being physically weak in a village that places more value on strength and capacity for destruction. If she built a trade empire, there's a high chance that, at any time, the village will seize her assets and wares—if she miraculously avoids violently dying to shinobi hands. She'll have no control over the power she gained and no way of knowing if or when it'll be returned. If she left Konoha, it would have to be well before Orochimaru attacks the village due to the potentially short supply of available shinobi for escort missions—it's unlikely she'll scrounge enough money to cover a mission to escort her far enough away from the impending war before that occurs. Additionally, if she left now it still would place her in dangerous situations with bandits and rogue shinobi roaming outside of the village walls.
On the other hand, she could go to the Academy and become a ninja. Shio wouldn't be dependent on other ninja to survive outside Konoha, and the chance of dying during an attack on the village would be somewhat reduced.
Of course she'd also be expected serve Konoha, a totalitarian militaristic dictatorship, until death. The Will of Fire? Fight and die for Konoha because it's your duty. Neglect your duty and you're lower than trash, not even worth the air you breath. Follow your Hokage, and follow your orders. You are only valuable if Konoha can use you as a tool.
Follow a leader, chosen based on strength, who could literally go batshit insane and she couldn't even say 'boo'. There is nothing to stop the Hokage from ordering her to die. A Hokage she neither elected, nor believed in, with nothing to stop him from ordering her to commit suicide after slaughtering hundreds?
It's easier to talk about sacrificing your life when you're not the one doing it.
It's even easier to talk about sacrificing your life when your "death" cherry wasn't popped.
Shio despised it. It rubbed her the wrong way. Konohagakure wasn't her home, she wasn't emotionally attached to it, and she sure didn't believe in the village's inherent good. Her Hokage wasn't a god, and her village wasn't a paradise. She already died once. Dying again on some old man's orders—orders she's powerless to disobey because tools don't have that right—isn't how she's going to spend her second chance.
Hell no.
She refused to spend this life worrying when she's going to die and being a bitch to someone else's whims.
It didn't take long for Shio to decide what life she would lead. To her seemed like the logical route if she didn't want to be stuck under someone else's thumb. She had to become strong enough to leave the village and make it on her own. Power itself comes in many forms, but in her case, she had to gather it in terms of shinobi skill. Otherwise, she'd be tethered to some forsaken village and crushed under the village's constant state of martial law.
Power meant freedom. Freedom meant life. Frankly, Konoha was a death trap.
So Shio intended to become as close to S-rank as possible. While other defectors feared the hunter-nin and bounty hunters, S-rank nin could pretty much waltz away from their village without too many ninja boogiemen at their heels.
The upcoming war? She wasn't quite sure how it ended, but she did know that Naruto handled it in the end. That went along fine without her help. She wouldn't go out of her way to save this the world. If she could help she would. She planned on finding some far away land beyond the five major hidden villages and settling well beyond the reach of the war, but it's not like she wanted to see the world burn. She just wanted to live her life without perpetual fear.
Shio was four when she decided to start the dinner conversation with: "I'm going to be a ninja." She wasn't quite sure why she picked that particular evening to deliver the news, but it was pretty funny watching Ume inhale rice.
Her father's reaction was less amusing. Shio was being generous calling it a reaction at all. Kaikei stopped chewing, as if he felt a fish bone in his mouth, and blinked before resuming. In moments like these Shio couldn't help but draw the parallel between Kaikei and a cow. With his big, sleepy eyes, and the way he worked his jaw in large, circular motions to grind his food, Shio half expected him to moo at her.
That was a horrible thing to say of course. Kaikei wasn't exactly the most active of parents, but she shouldn't call him a cow.
Bovine were humble, gentle creatures, not known to eating in their sleep.
"Y-you what?" Ume gasped, pressing a hand to her lower abdomen. "Are you sure, sweetie? That's a big decision—and ninja are violent. Why not go to civilian school? Or an apprenticeship? I know Nobuko-san wouldn't mind taking on another when you get older! Or-or—!"
"I know, but I'm going to be a ninja."
"Then I—! I won't sign you up for the Academy!"
"Just thought I'd let you know is all." she said mildly. As messed up as it is, there were ways to attend the Academy without parental consent. That avenue took more paperwork, but it was always open for children. It was probably designed for situations like these.
Most children from non-shinobi parents would go on to learn some trade or continue the family business, especially if they lived in the more civilian sections of the village. And civilian families with some shinobi relation generally tend to leave the civilian areas a wide berth. Undoubtedly, Konohagakure works hard to maintain a certain image for its shinobi—there's a reason why Konoha is called the tree-hugger village—but that propaganda only goes so far. Shinobi just don't frequent the civilian areas. There's no training grounds, no restaurants designed to assuage shinobi paranoia, and no shops a shinobi couldn't find near their usual haunts. Those people just don't have much interaction with ninja. So all the horrible stories about the deeds shinobi commit stick much better in their minds. After all, it's more difficult to associate gruesome acts of violence with the ninja you've known since they were in the Academy, and later paid to do your yard work as genin.
But every once in a while a kid from a civilian area in the village will succumb to the village's propaganda and want to become a ninja. It's in the village's best interest to accept the kid. Why refuse the chance to potentially increase the pool of shinobi and future applicants to the Academy for trivial reasons like parental consent?
Based on the way Ume was currently fussing, she apparently didn't agree. "No you can't. I said no! I refuse to let you run around the house learning how to kill people!"
"I'll do that at the Academy, not here."
"It's dangerous! And vile! Learn an honest trade. Do honest work! Anything's better than being a ninja. Tell her, Kaikei!"
Kaikei chewed, his jaw working in large circular motions. "Ah," he grunted, but offered no more.
"He thinks it's a great idea." Probably. "I can go when I turn six? Great, thanks Oto-san." That was probably Kaikei's thinking grunt, but she could never be sure. He rarely uttered a word unless it had to do with business and the like.
The bracelets on on Ume's arms rattled as her whole body vibrated. "I won't—" she hissed through clenched teeth, "how dare you."
Purple suited Ume's completion, Shio thought, it went well with her name too. But she didn't dare share that.
"You—" hands squeezed the edge of the table, turning the fingers white. Hunching over the table like some big cat, nostrils flared, "You—" she repeated.
"Ume-chan," Kaikei patted his wife's hand, speaking for the first time this evening. "Calm yourself."
Immediately, Ume seemed to melt into her husband's arm, taking deep breaths and gazing up at him.
"But the baby…!"
"Exactly the baby."
"What? What baby?"
Covering her lower abdomen with a trembling hand, "I-I don't understand—Kaikei, she wants to be a ninja! It's dangerous!"
He made a noise of agreement, and stroked his wife's blond locks for a minute before returning to his seat. Another minute passed in silence. Both females watched as the man loaded his bowl with more rice, and slowly chewed the leafy vegetable-rice mixture. Not once did he look up; he even poured his own tea. When Kaikei cleared his plate once more, and placed his chopsticks on the table with a resolute click, she was getting ready to voice her annoyance. Fortunately, she didn't have to, as her dear Oto-san finally turned to her and said, "You can go."
"I'm not done eating."
"To the Academy."
"Oh." Shio stared at him for a second. She neither needed nor asked for his approval, and yet he made her wait until he could graciously bestow it to her.
Whatever. She was better off letting it go.
"Thanks Oto-san. Glad I have your blessing—you don't know how much it means to me," she chirped.
Stupid cow needs to get off his high horse.
"We'll go through the appropriate channels," he continued, "you'll start three years from now."
"Two. Actually." Shio corrected. "I'm four, Oto-san."
Kaikei blinked. "Right."
"Kaa-san, these shoes are uncomfortable." Shio lifted her foot as high as the kimono would allow, and gestured at the geta sandals on her feet. As cute as they looked on her tiny feet, wooden flip-flops on platforms were not the way to happy feet. "Can I wear regular shoes instead?"
"Hush, you need to look presentable for the elders." Ume said.
Shio was quiet for a second, "But they're not my elders." Why did she have to dress up in this monkey suit? The pink and white kimono was restricting, and she kept tripping over the hem, which wasn't helping the feet situation. All this for some old people—she wasn't sure if they were worth the effort anyway.
"They will be," Ume straightened her hair in the mirror, "mommy expects you to be on your best behavior for them—you understand? This is very important." She smiled at her husband and took his arm in both of hers.
"Important for who?" she muttered, tottering behind her parents. Neither gave indication that they heard her.
Apparently, this little meeting was one of the "appropriate channels" her honorable father had in mind. Shio hoped Kaikei wouldn't spin this to revolve around business, but based on the spring in his step and the suddenly alert expression on his clean-shaven face she had her doubts.
"You are to be on your best behavior," he turned to her, fixing his black eyes on her. They reminded her of gleaming beetles. "Make them like you, Shio-chan."
Smothering a frown and a violent eye roll, she nodded demurely.
"Yes Oto-san."
"Your actions affect everyone, daughter, remember that. They affect me. They affect this family. Do whatever you have to do to make them like you."
"Surely their approval isn't more important than yours, Oto-san."
For a moment, Kaikei stared at her. Shio held her breath, that probably came out a bit more sarcastic than she intended. Would he hit her? He seemed high-strung enough for it. It's the norm here, to hit one's child for misbehavior, something she's still getting used to.
"Your mother's family has power here."
Power you you don't have, Kaikei, which is why you want your adorable daughter, who you've just noticed exists, to be accepted into the fold of old people, Shio mentally mocked. Outwardly, she gave a simpering smile until his back was turned, and immediately shucked her geta sandals at the front door, smiling and wiggling her tabi-socked toes before closing it behind her.
She followed her parents through the streets of Konoha, taking in the familiar sights and smells of the vendors lining the road, and greeting the peddlers she recognized. It had the feel of a farmers market, with the conglomerate of stalls and tables squished against buildings, and the odd chicken or goat escapee weaving within the crowd. Shio couldn't remember whether the manga depicted this version of Konoha, as the chaotic marketplace remained unique to the civilian sectors of the village.
Stepping out of the civilian-dominant areas and into the shinobi-dominant areas is almost like entering a new world, or at least that's what Shio always thought. This time was no different. The string of crammed stalls lining the street makes way for the neatly kept store fronts, lightly dotted with naked trees along the walkway, where some crafty vendor would get the most out of the limited space he or she elbowed his way into by displaying wares along its branches. Gone were the heady smells of cooking food, drying herbs, decaying fish, and animal feces, shoved back by various fuuinjutsu strategically placed along the edges of the civilian district.
Aside from the pockets of Konoha were the civilians tend to congregate, most of the village was liberally spaced.
Shio wasn't as familiar with the village outside of the civilian areas, spending most of her time being shunted from shopkeeper to shopkeeper on babysitting duty for Ume as a favor.
So the clan compound they stopped at didn't ring any bells.
Shio stubbornly ignored the pair of blonds at the compound entrance.
Their ponytails were just a fashion statement.
The flower gardens were too.
Unfortunately, she couldn't ignore the huge clan symbol pasted on the back of a blue-eyed, blond, ponytailed, shinobi tending one the flower gardens.
That was a Yamanaka.
This is the Yamanaka clan compound.
Ume was a Yamanaka.
Shio is related to the Yamanaka.
Of all the possible vaginas to pop out from, and she had to pick the one related to a clan of blooming combat psychologists.
Their psycho-mind tricks are a big no-no for her. It's practically taboo to badmouth Konoha, and that's among civilians. The one time she heard anyone complain about the Hidden Leaf, was when Kisa, the owner of the civilian district's metal working shop who'd watch her from time to time, bitterly mentioned the uncompensated seizure of her business. Even then, at the height of Kisa's displeasure, Shio remembered straining to hear the woman's venomously whispered grievances.
If they did their vulcan mind meld jutsu on her and found out that she not only belongs in the in the crazy house, for believing she died an adult in another world, but also plans on becoming a ninja to leave the village, they'd probably throw her in some hole in the ground and 'earth jutsu' away any chance of escape. Either that or use that mind jutsu to turn her into a vegetable.
Shio watched the group of white and red koi lazily circuit the pool while waiting with Ume, Kaikei and their Yamanaka escort, or 'Hideshi-sama' from what Ume cooed upon seeing him—Shio refused to refer to him as 'sama', waited to be ushered to the main house overlooking the garden. Guests had to wait until the end of the clan meeting to present their case, their Yamanaka escort explained.
Ignoring the inane smalltalk Ume was undoubtedly making with the shinobi, Shio compared her biological mother and the Yamanaka's reflections from her place by the pond.
Standing side by side, the similarities between the two were strikingly obvious. It's more likely that the Ume and Hideshi were distant cousins, yet they looked like siblings from their long, silky blond hair and their powder blue pupil-less eyes, to their finely sculpted bone structure tapering to elegant points and curves.
One green and black koi, floating toward the surface, gaped at her. The girl matched its blank stare until it darted back to the group when the human offered no food.
Unlike her mother, Shio didn't inherit the classic Yamanaka traits.
Rather, Kaikei's genes took the lion's share of Shio's phenotype. Unfortunately, he didn't share the warm coloration Fire country natives sport, instead he had the appearance of the classic Water country islander.
Instead of a svelte shape, Kaikei brought the wiry, gangly build to the table. Water apparently favored the "underweight teen male desperately trying to gain muscle" look in their men and women. It was like comparing cats to plucked birds.
Aside from the Uchiha, Fire country natives tended toward earthy tones ranging from from browns, to yellows and every intermediate hue with a reddish tinge. So Kaikei and Shio's shaggy black hair were excellent for blending in with the Uchiha population—if only the Uchiha would give up their peach-colored skin tone for the 'so-pale-you-can-see-your-veins' blueish skin tone Shio inherited from Kaikei. Extreme paleness, while a useful trait that prevents vitamin D deficiency in a country perpetually surrounded by oceanic mist, is not only useless in Fire country, but also painful.
On the bright side, Shio didn't inherit everything from Kaikei.
For one, the triangular, shark-like teeth weren't passed down from father to daughter. She thanked the gods of shitty luck for that boon.
And while she got the sleepy eyes, the matching pitch black eye color didn't follow. Her iris didn't blend in with her eyelashes giving her a slightly more alert appearance, so that was a plus. Unfortunately she got her mother's eye color. And took it a little too far. No flouncing around with powder blue Yamanaka eyes for her. She's stuck squinting her way through sunny Fire country with red eyes. While dark colored eyes were less sensitive to light because they had more pigment to protect the eye, light colored eyes, like Yamanaka eyes, had less pigment, resulting in both the iris unique color as well as increased light sensitivity. Red eyes, in Shio's case, indicate the absence of pigment which normally overlays the capillaries feeding the iris, so Shio literally had blood red eyes.
A stunning eye color. Poetic, even. She'd appreciate that fact more if she wasn't red-green colorblind—a trait linked to her unique eye color.
It was also within the warm color scheme Fire country natives tend to sport. Sure. But every time Fire country sun stabs her eyes, Shio desperately wished for her old poo colored peepers. Because she's ungrateful.
Overall, it was kind of disappointing. A small, vain part of her had hoped that this time around she'd be gorgeous. Now, she'd have to go through puberty to see if she at least maintained average.
In comparison to Ume, and the rest of the Yamanaka, she felt like a petstore goldfish in a group of koi. A dinky fish with a hot mother.
Glancing over her shoulder at Ume who left Kaikei's side to continue chatting with Hideshi, she blanched and wondered, for the thousandth time, what on earth inspired Ume to drop her family name and marry the scraggy Water native that was Kaikei.
"Oh! Emiko-sama! It's me—Ume-chan." Ume crowed, flapping her sleeved hands, and leaving a confused Hideshi to eat dust and her flying blond hair, "Oh darling, you look wonderful! And is this little Ino-sama? My, what a vision you are, just like your mother. Beautiful, like a princess."
Shio's head shot up so quickly she nearly fell into the pond. Ino Yamanaka? As in the Ino who's in the same age group as Naruto?
Apparently yes. Right beside her mother and practically glowing with pride, stood the blond haired, blue eyed kunoichi. Kunoichi-to-be, actually. Ino had a ways to go before she became a kunoichi seeing as her head, with its short and spunky haircut, barely reached her mother's hip.
"Emiko-sama. How are you?" Kaikei nodded, joining his wife.
"Thank you, Ume-san. It's always nice seeing you. Although, I hardly see you anymore. It's been a while since you've last visited, hasn't it?"
"It has, hasn't it? Oh you know me, I can never stay away for long. I grew up here, you know, wonderful memories. You know us parents, always wanting the best for our children."
Emiko gave a pleasantly interested expression in response. Impatiently, Ino tugged at her mother's skirts drawing the older woman's polite attention long enough to get a permissive nod.
"Yes, we do. You're hear for the clan meeting, I assume?" It was more statement than question. "And is this your daughter? How lovely."
Ume and Kaikei turned, as if remembering something they misplaced. "That's Shio," a strangled gasp cut the the blond mother's introduction short. Ume probably noticed Shio's shoeless state. "She's about Ino-sama's age. Four, I think. They grow so fast it's hard to keep track sometimes. She wants to go to the Academy. Be a ninja. Can you believe that?"
"Wonderful, Ino can't wait, she's so excited. And now she'll have a female friend to attend with her—I'll have an even harder time stopping her from demanding Inoichi teacher her everything now." this time, Emiko's face lit up with a warm smile. "At this rate, Inoichi'll have to find something soon to keep her from learning the clan techniques too soon. Does Shio have a particular specialization she'd like to learn at the Academy?"
Shio wanted to be a combat specialist. None of that medic nin on the sidelines crap kunoichi are expected to flock to. And a big fat no to infiltration, using her feminine wiles to get information is not the path to an S-class ninja who can successfully leave their village.
Ume laughed. "She's been leaning on medic nin for some time, but you know kids, they can't seem to make up their mind." Shio grimaced at her mother's answer and tugged the grimy tabi socks from her feet, wiggling her fleshy toes in relief. Absently, she noted that Ino returned from wherever she ran off to and promptly ignored the new aura.
"Well if Shio-chan has trouble deciding, she can observe the medic nin at the hospital. Perhaps she'd be interested, Ume-san?"
"Maybe later," she said with a wave, "enough about this, the clan meeting is going to be all about her. What I'm really interested in is you, Emiko-sama. I haven't seen you in so long, it's really a shame. I want to hear all about you, and Inoichi-sama, and Ino-sama. To catch up."
At that, Shio had to roll her eyes. In her four years in Konoha, she saw neither hide nor hair of Emiko, yet she half expected Ume to add an "for old times sake" for good measure.
Plop. She dropped one tabi sock into the pond. So caked with dirt from her geta-less walk, that it sank to the bottom relatively quickly for the koi to investigate.
"Thats not very nice."
Jerking from her squat, Shio tripped into the pond with a yelp. Though the pond's shore waters reached about four inches deep, the mud sucked her hands and knees up to her wrists and calves. It was squishy and cold between her fingers and toes, a wholly unpleasant feeling made worse by stifled giggling from behind her.
"That wasn't very nice either." she muttered, pulling her hands from the mud with a muted squelch.
"Pfft, sorry! Didn't mean to scare you," she laughed, clasping her hands behind her back and bending to Shio's eye level, "I have some clothes you can borrow if you want." Shio stood, piercing the Ino with a dead fish stare. It was ineffective against the Yamanaka, judging from her 100 watt grin. "I'm Yamanaka Ino. Nice to meet you."
What a cute kid, Shio thought, lifting the second tabi sock she had yet to drop into the pond. Mud, from her quick dip, sloughed from the dripping sock with the speed and consistency vaguely reminiscent of phlegm.
Maintaining eye contact, she raised the sock to shoulder height. "I'm Shio." And dropped the remaining tabi into the pond.
Shio ignored the slight frown on the girl's face as she wrung the excess muck from her clothes.
"Shio-chan, change into my clothes, yours are all icky and smelly. Come on, my house is right down there." Ino tugged on her acquaintance's arm, making a slight face at the sticky pond scum.
"I can't. Okaa-san and Oto-san are waiting for your clan elders to invite them in. If I'm not there, Oto-san will say I'm not going through the appropriate channels." The fact that she'd be fulfilling Kaikei's requirements while covered in muck, an unexpected benefit, only accounted for about all the pleasure she'd reap from this meeting.
Ino followed the direction Shio pointed out. "Her? You don't look alike…"
"I take after my Oto-san."
"Huh, where—oh I found him. You know, your Okaa-san looks a lot like my dad."
"Yeah."
Ino was silent for a moment, before hitting Shio upside the head.
"Ow, what was—"
"When you introduce yourself, you put your clan name first! Always put the group name first 'cause the group is always bigger than you because you're a part of it. Got it? Group name first then your given name. Even if you don't look it, you're a Yamanaka, so you got something to be proud of! After all, we're from one of the greatest clans in the village!" she sighed dramatically, "Shio-chan, you and the boys are so lucky I'm here. What would any of you do without me?"
"I'd have one less head injury."
Ino turned her nose up, "You deserved that."
"I don't have a clan name. Okaa-san doesn't either, she gave it up I think. Something about letting security risks too close to your clan." she shrugged, "So it's Shio. Just Shio." She preferred it that way, and the independence it implied.
"Really? But…we're still, like, cousins, right?"
"Ino, how much pain would I be in if I said no?"
Blond eyebrows scrunched together, as tiny hands found their way to equally tiny hips.
"I'm not violent—I only hit people when they really really deserve it! And—" the blond froze, most likely taken aback by the lack of honorific attached to her name, which is generally neglected among peers who share a high degree of intimacy—otherwise dropping honorifics is considered a serious faux pas.
If Shio had to guess, Ino's brain is frozen between deciding if the dropped honorific meant Shio considered them close friends and or family, if Shio was arrogant enough to believe Ino was her social inferior, or if Shio was socially clumsy enough to accidentally drop the honorific.
Undoubtedly, a four year old Yamanaka was more socially savvy than most of children. Yet she doubted Ino would even guess that Shio just liked to drop honorifics because she never used them in her previous life, and didn't mind committing social suicide in exchange for the comfort of old habits. Not to mention her preference for first names over family names, even with acquaintances—something she could get away now because four year olds seemed to believe that making friends was an instantaneous process.
Seeing the four year old stuck in a pose that oozed confidence and sass with her mouth still open and a confused expression painted on her face, was kind of funny. Like watching a cat get brain freeze funny.
"Konoha and the Yamanaka clan doesn't acknowledge any ties between the clan and Okaa-san. We're so distantly related to the main branch, the name change is more of a formality anyway. Therefore, we're not cousins."
Ino pouted and was about to reply when Shio spotted Ume and Kaikei wildly gesturing for her to report back to them.
It was time to report back for the clan meeting. She couldn't wait.
"Hey, you gotta say bye when you leave, itoko!" Cousin. Shio cringed. If she had the time, she'd march right back and get the last word in this-!
But she didn't. This was going to be far more amusing than arguing with a four year old.
As she approached her parents waiting by the main building's entrance, she gleefully noted the expression of muted horror on Kaikei's face. A high pitched noise, like a bunny in boiling water, seemed to escape his stiff form, emanating from deep within his gut. Ume's skin color changed to match her husband's natural ghostly shade. Her cheerful visage, in seconds, gained a plastic-like quality to it.
"I was playing with Ino and I got a little wet. But a little dampness won't hurt anyone."
Silence. The dripping of water.
"I also fell a little. I think I brushed most of it off, but it's so bright out, it's kind of hard to tell."
The formerly pink and white kimono sang a different tune. She didn't give them a chance to listen.
"Well come on then, we don't want to keep them waiting." she snatched Kaikei's hand and charged through the door.
The room's low lighting took time for Shio to adjust to, but she could discern four male forms on the slightly raised platform across the room. Behind them, also in sitting seiza, were Yamanaka lining the walls, row after row, like sardines in a tin.
The platform was only a few inches above the ground, rising from it in a gentle incline. In the middle of the room, three feet before the floor's transition, sat three cushions. A crude way, in her opinion, to nonverbally establish one's superiority from sitting on a higher elevation.
After all, equals would sit on equal ground.
The three took their places.
The four old men didn't seem to notice.
So they were playing the 'I'm-very-important-and-busy-wait-until-I'm-done" game.
She couldn't play that game, so Shio took the time to examine the four clan elders. They all kind of looked the same to her—old, and man-ish. It seems failure at identifying the elderly carried over from her previous life.
Thankfully though, based on Ume's descriptions, she could put the names to the faces.
If she had to guess, Katsurou and his 'regal nose' sat on the far left in the lineup. Hopefully. He was also the youngest of the elders, based on his still mostly golden hair tugged in the typical Yamanaka high ponytail. If she had to guess, Katsurou seemed to be in his early fifties. Unusual, considering how 'clan elder' implied something…older. Good for him though, achieving a prestigious position before most others.
Next to Katsurou, sat a considerably older man. Based on the thick scar on the left side of his jaw, extending from the corner of his mouth to his adam's apple, that was Nobunaga. Shio placed him somewhere in his eighties. But never has she ever seen an eighty year old built like a gym meathead, at one point he must have been huge. But thats as far as time's kindness went for him. Deep frown lines drooped into saggy jowls, and stormy eyebrows sat heavily on his brows, giving him the appearance of a grumpy bulldog. Either that or an angry old Hyuuga, based on the way Nobunaga collected his grizzled hair into a loose ponytail at the base of his neck.
The man next to him was almost a no brainer. Though Ume used the word 'eccentric', Shio thought the phrase 'crazy old man' fit better. Ryuunosuke, without a doubt, was as old as balls—which might explain how he got his hair to resemble a troll doll's post electrocution, and the crazy goatee gone wild. Thinnest among his companions, Ryuunosuke still held the most energetic aura about him, like a stringy alley cat that might or might not have rabies. Shio would've gawked at him more if she didn't catch him looking right back at her. Perhaps he didn't actually catch her, after all his eyes were so pale it was hard to tell whether he could actually see.
The only man left had to be Susumu. He had no defining features, aside from his severe, high ponytail that yanked his forehead taut and shiny, like a balloon. Thin lips squeezed the slit where his mouth should be, mirroring his narrowed eyes.
He was not a happy camper.
And he was looking right at her.
She made eye contact.
Crap.
Now they were all looking at her.
"Is that little Ume-chan? Why, it's been a while since you visited us. Honestly, I expected you back here sooner." Katsurou folded his hands back into his sleeves, "You're doing well, yes?"
"Yes, Katsurou-sama."
"Adorable. And how's business?"
"Excellent, Katsurou-sama."
Nobunaga cleared his throat.
"Yes, yes of course, I'm getting ahead of myself already. So, tell me my dear, why do you seek audience with us?"
"I humbly ask the Yamanaka elders to reconsider their decision for clan membership—"
"Sweet little Ume-chan," he tsk-ed, shaking his head, "if only everyone were like you… The world would be much more simple."
Nobunaga scrutinized Shio and Kaikei, the first one to acknowledge their presence since the beginning of the meeting. "Our decision is final. So long as you remain with your… spouse, the clan will not acknowledge Yamanaka Ume."
"Kaikei of Water, despite his seven years of residence here, still presents a security risk both to Konoha and to the clan until he proves beyond a doubt otherwise." Susumu, this time.
Shio felt Kaikei tense beside her.
"Ah," Ryuunosuke broke into a coughing fit, "Ah, when I was a young boy, I'd pick walnuts with Ototo-kun. Sometimes he ate the entire basket on the way home, but we could always pick more near the birch grove." He sighed dreamily, and scratched his armpit.
Shio blinked. For a second there, she almost believed him. But Konoha imports walnuts from the southwest, closer to River country.
"Honorable elders, I beg you to please reconsider for any children I might bear."
"Your children still present a security risk by associating with your spouse. The risk of leaking clan secrets is too high. Our decision is final."
"Now, now, Nobunaga-san. Lets not be too hasty. Our clan, and many before us, have reevaluated cases like these. And many before us have benefited from accepting…estranged relations… back into the fold." Susumu leaned over, dissecting Shio with his ice chip eyes. "Provided, of course, they become an asset to the clan."
"An excellent idea. Though your offspring doesn't quite share the marks of your good breeding, little Ume-chan, there's always hope you passed on some desirable trait." he laughed, "Silly, isn't it. If you weren't a woman, I'd say Kaikei gave you a bastard."
Ume joined his giggling.
"Now, what is her name?"
"Shio, Katsurou-sama."
Ryuunosuke burst into hysterical giggling, stopped abruptly, and started snoring.
"Shio, hm?" Finally, he deemed Shio worthy enough to grace her with his attention. "Tell me, dear Shio-chan. What can you offer to the Yamanaka clan? Why should we, one of the founding shinobi clans of Konohagakure, take you in?"
Suddenly, she didn't feel like answering. Using energy to convince an old guy in love with his own voice, sounded like such a waste.
She didn't even want to be a Yamanaka. They were detrimental to her health.
Something pinched her arm, hard. Two somethings, actually. One for each arm where each parents bookended her.
This was getting seriously uncomfortable. Nobunaga especially creeped her out. He kept on staring at her, like she stole all his underwear and ate them when he wasn't looking.
"I'm going to attend the Academy, to be a ninja."
"You're adorable, child." Katsurou gave her a pitying look. "The Yamanaka clan is a ninja clan. We have plenty of competent ninja."
"They'll get old and die." What on earth was she trying to pull? Her need to get the last word was going to get her killed…sooner than later if she continues to flap her jaw like this.
"They'll get old and die, Katsurou-sama," he corrected.
No.
"…Ok."
What was it about these people that compelled her to toss all sense into the wind and release her inner imp, Shio wondered, as the man puffed up and turned an interesting shade of mauve.
"Darling little Shio-chan, do take a page from your mother's book and refer to your betters in a respectful manner. There are four of us up here, if you don't specify who you're talking to, how would we begin to decipher your words? If you are ever to be a Yamanaka, you must learn your place."
"How are you even considering this? Even without malicious intent—" Nobunaga furiously gestured to Shio with wide, sweeping waves of his arm, "that child can hardly keep herself—she shows up without shoes and covered in filth, how can she be expected to keep the clan's secrets? We'd end up with shinobi in Kumo using our secret jutsu like kawarmi! Even thinking about accepting her into the clan is to invite undesirable consequences."
Never before, had Shio been so grateful to be sitting in a mud-covered kimono. Falling into that pond was one of the best things that happened to her today. A serendipitous mishap, but it beat her "go to the meeting barefoot" plan by a mile.
"Oh come now. This isn't a matter of intelligence, with enough training we can prevent those issues. Dogs, for example, can do amazing things well beyond their mental capacity with enough training and obedience."
She was stunned for a moment, by the sheer audacity of this man.
On one hand, Katsurou was technically defending her, albeit in a arrogant, demeaning way. On the other hand, he's a self-important dick who just compared her to a dog, a dumb one too.
"Before you interrupted me, I was teaching little Shio-chan some manners. Isn't that right?"
Playing good cop to cow her into obedience? Clever, but no.
"Yep," she was the queen of bulldozing through that noise, "Katsurou."
That felt good. Really good.
Hopefully losing face in front of everyone stops him from fulfilling his lifelong dream of becoming a dog trainer.
Susumu shot him a quelling look. "I believe it's far to early to determine whether Shio-chan will be an asset to the clan. She's far too young… and… rough around the edges. If she is promising enough to represent the clan, we'll reconsider the membership of your children into the clan. However," he looked at Nobunaga this time, "teaching the clan jutsu to someone in her situation would… require more trust than I could possibly gather in this lifetime."
"…It's reasonable, though the decision could be made now rather than later." Nobunaga nodded gravely. "And you, Katsurou-san?"
"I seem to have made a mistake. Apologies Nobunaga-san. Today is just full of foolish mistakes. I think we can decide now whether to accept that… little Shio-chan… into our clan." he sighed, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, "The beginning of rot is starting to show, and it'll only grow with time, spreading and eventually infecting others with its disease. Postponing the inevitable is a waste of time," with a firm nod, "we'd be better off with a dirty street mongrel than... well you know..."
The three men stared at the slumped over Ryuunosuke.
Nobunaga loudly cleared his throat.
The old man mumbled, bonelessly lolling his head toward the ceiling, and demonstrating to everyone in the room, the birth of a green snot bubble.
"Ryuunosuke-san." Susumu gingerly shook the man's limp arm.
He sleepily swatted the disturbance. Some more sleepy mumbles.
"Ryuunosuke-san, we require your input now," boldly, Katsurou grabbed him by the shoulder to shake the old man awake, ignoring the surprised and wary expressions of his colleagues.
The old man snorted, and jerked his head up, snatching the hand on his shoulder before it could return to its owner. The snot bubble popped.
"Eh? Huh? What do you think you're doing, disturbing an old man's nap. And yuck, what happened to my face?" Ryuunosuke complained. He grabbed the long silk sleeve of Katsurou's captive hand, and wiped the mucous from his face. "Hm, I may be coming down with something. Thank you Katsurou-san."
Katsurou was too disgusted to respond.
"I think a nice long soak'll do these old bones some good."
"Wait—where are you going?"
"To take a bath, keep up old man!" he cackled, hobbling to the door.
Susumu made to follow him, or tackle him it was hard to tell, but relaxed under Nobunaga's restraining grip on his shoulder. "But we need to reach a decision now!"
"Well in the next five minutes, I'm either going to die or strip naked. So hurry it up already."
"Postpone the decision to accept her in the clan: yes or no."
"What are you stupid? The kid took a dip in my tinkle pond and is named after a condiment!" he crowed, "Of course! She has potential—that's what she has!"
AN: Originally, I started because I wanted to practice my writing skills. It feels kind of clunky, and I want to work on fixing that. Maybe next chapter, I'll change to first person and see if I can get a better read on the problem areas.
This is actually a rough draft. Some proofreading, and minor cutting. I intend to do some major reconstruction, but I have to spew the entire story first before I begin fixing it or I get super nitpick too early. A beta would be nice. But major and minor patches will be implemented in a later version or update. If I majorly screwed up, that'll be taken care of in the rewritten version.
On the story direction…
I intend to deviate from the canon at some point. But that has to wait, I'm still working on the Shippuden line—hopefully it'll be barely recognizable by the time I'm done with it. Also, I want to explore and flesh out the world a bit (I need to practice that too). I admire how other authors build up Konoha so well. I also want to try world-building past Fire country borders later on.
Also, I want to try my hand at working with the Naruto cast. And developing the female cast especially. I absolutely loathe the majority of the female cast in the pre-Shippuden line for one reason only: the love interest. Sakura, for example, is a lovesick puppy. Sure she's other things too, but her biggest defining quality is her crush. Hinata too. Sure she's shy and a sweetheart. But without her crush on Naruto to help define her, she's kind of a weak character. If you take away Naruto's crush on Sakura, there's still a lot of his character left to go by. Sure he goes after Sasuke and promises Sakura, yada yada—but he'd still chase Sasuke even without her. Lee is strong too, without his crush on Sakura.
Hence, I don't see any of male cast defined by their love interests.
So can we please have some more girl power? Girl parts are just as fugly as boy parts, I promise.
Therefore, romance is still an option… but relatively insignificant.
I like the male cast a lot though. So it won't be all about girls.
On Shio…
When I first made Shio, a while back, I wanted her to be a kind of parody character to the various OC characters I've read in countless Naruto fan fictions. But eventually I gut her entire character and changed everything. But I kept her physical appearance from her glory days (and maybe exaggerated it a little). A good bunch of the OCs I've seen in the Narutoverse had pale skin, multicolored hair, and some crazy eye color… and some tragic past that sits on his/her head like a hat…
Honestly, snow white skin in "FIRE" country is just asking for sun burns. My friend has what I call the "irish tan". She glows in the dark and never tans. She burns to a crisp, molts, then freckles from the slightest sun exposure.
And red eyes? Sure Kurenai has them without issue, but I'm putting that to "inherited special pigmentation" like Sakura's pink hair. Realistically, red eyes are from ocular albinism. Associated with ocular albinism include reduced visual acuity, photophobia, colorblindness, etc.
Dramatically tragic pasts are sad, yes. Shocking too. But it gets kind of repetitive after a while...
Shio's not really a SI (at least of me), but she's from this world. I find it's easier to punish characters when they're not "me".
Final note…
This is the longest author's note you'll probably get for the rest of the story. Enjoy.