Chapter number 2 is here.
I own the Kageyama, nothing else.
Reviews;
JackFrist14: Thank you, I plan on it.
moon so bright: glad you like it.
Queen Oreo Awesomeness: I hope so. As for who I'm talking about, I'm not actually sure(whoops)! It's either Naruto or Obito but I don't have a set idea for what time period it's in yet. I'll figure it out by the next chapter.
If anyone really wants to see a particular generation please feel free to tell me which one!
I often wear camouflaged pants so when I walk I look like a floating torso. I love with the same air of mystery." ― Jarod Kintz
"Akira Kageyama?"
"Here."
"Akira Kageyama?"
"Here!"
"Absent."
"Darnit all to frick!"
Even ninja didn't see her. Even chunin who saw every movement in a class room didn't notice the little brown haired girl sitting in the very front row, waving her hand desperately in the air.
The third month in class and she had been counted missing for every single day of class. She was even making sure that she was visible! The girl was cursing her genetics, only a little less than she was cursing her teacher. They saw children sleep, saw them try and sneak out but they couldn't see one little Kageyama trying to be noticed. Quietly she slumped in her seat, feeling the pigment leave her skin and clothes.
After class she had taken to walking up to the front and correcting the chart. If any of the teachers noticed she'd never heard anything about it. Shockingly enough.
Akira was starting to get used to not being noticed. That didn't mean she liked it, it just meant that her speaking voice was at a smokers-whisper and her shouting didn't get above Mike-Teavee*-mumbling. It was in her genes, her father had explained once. After they learned to talk their vocal chords lowered the volume at which they could vibrate, cutting them off at fifty decibel compared to the regular persons 100 and some odd. It wasn't something they could change any more than a tenor could change to be soprano.
Akira didn't like it, not one bit. She couldn't change it though, so it didn't really matter.
What she could change was her seating arrangement. If sitting in the front wouldn't get her noticed she may as well take that nice corner seat in the back row and nap there in peace, since clearly no one would notice if she did. Not even waiting until class ended Akira started stuffing her things into her bag (which was family made), pushing in papers (family made), pens (family made), and her lunch (mommy made).
The girl stood up, completely invisible to everyone else in her class. Her invisibility spread into her clothes and back pack, only her bagged lunch was visible. When she chucked it at the back of the room it struck a goggled head, igniting an offended shriek that called their teachers attention to the back. A sharp bark was launched at the back of the room.
Akira hardly noticed. She walked to the back, passing three children before she reached the last seat on the edge and slipped into it, taking the lunch back from where it was being inspected by the boy next to her.
His head snapped to her, or rather her now floating bag of lunch as she set it in the corner. His skin grew incredibly pale and he started scooting as far from her as he could.
Akira paid him no mind, instead kicking her feet up on the desk and pushing her shoulders into the corner. The soft fabric of her shoes (Family made) created hardly a sound as they struck the table. The girl leaned back, closing her eyes and letting out a soft breath.
It wasn't five minutes before she was out.
His desk was haunted.
Oh god his desk was haunted.
He didn't want a haunted desk!
Why him?
Why?
"Dude, are you crying?"
"No!" he shouted, "I've just got ectoplasm in my eye."
His neighbor squinted at him suspiciously and he could feel, feel, the ghosts' attention turn on him.
Was it too late to move away?
Ryuko watched the door uselessly. Her daughter would come in, if she wasn't already there. It had never been this difficult to find her father. Akio was never hard to find even when he did forget to go back to being visible after being snapped into a vanishing act.
Now that Akira was in the Academy Ryuko had decided it was time for her to start teacher the ninja arts, the actually important ones. Not the useless illusions clones or the transformation that her daughter would probably never need to use. She would teach her chakra control, genjutsu's and anything else she ever wanted to learn.
Her precious daughter would be a great ninja, she could feel it in her bones!
"Mom, why are staring at the chicken like it had the secrets of life?"
Especially if she could sneak up on an ex-jonin.
Akira couldn't spin very well, Akio noted, watching his daughter try and imitate what he had been showing her. She had to learn to spin, and later weave, to make clothes for herself and the rest of the family. It was how they worked. In order to disappear entirely without stripping they had to be wearing things made from the plants that the family grew with their blood. They disappeared with them.
It was useful, if you could actually do it.
Which, clearly, his daughter could not.
The man allowed a quiet sigh, listening to his daughter mutter fowly at the spinner in front of her.
He patter her head, drawing a whine from the girl.
"You'll get it," was all he said. Akio was a man of few words, you see. Akira wasn't, just quiet.
The girl nodded, still grumbling.
It was determined a few weeks after the initial attempts that Akira would stick to killing people instead of making clothes for her and her family.
Dyes were also off limits.
When the head of the family brought his six year old daughter to her Hikari was surprised. The girl was supposed to be a ninja, so it was strange seeing her brought to the clans best doctor.
Akira walked after her father, clearly every bit a Kageyama. She didn't seem to have inherited anything from Ryuko.
"Hikari, Akira thinks she might want to go into medicine as well," he stated, straight to the point as per usual.
"Oh?" Hikari looked down at the girl, who almost immediately hid behind the man. The only time she ever showed signs of being brave was when she was being ignored.
Akira nodded rapidly. "Yes."
Hikari nodded slowly, a smile forming. "Alright. I'll go find a fish, and you meet me here in the morning."
In spite of the befuddled look on her face Akira nodded.
"Dispel!"
Ryuko was smiling. Akira was getting very good at realizing when she was caught in a genjutsu, even better at breaking them. She turned to the door, watching her disgruntles daughter come walking into the kitchen, giving her a glare.
"What was that for, mom?" she questioned, dropping her back pack by the table and climbing up onto one of the wooden chairs. The woman shrugged, setting a plate of cookies in front of the girl.
"I wanted to know if you could figure it out and get rid of it, isn't that what I've been doing for months now?" she teased, patting her daughter's dark hair. The girl huffed quietly, snatching one of the snacks off the plate.
"A genjutsu within a genjutsu was a little extreme," Akira informed her, practically inhaling the cookie.
"You never know when you'll experience one," Ryuko reminded the seven year old, as she often did.
The girl said something else but her mother was already leaving, missing the quiet phrase behind her, the small doubt in her childs mind.
A shame, really.
The Academy had three vacations, each two weeks long. One in the middle of winter, just after the end of spring, and another just shy of the last days of summer.
For that Akira was grateful. It meant that she could hang around and do what she wanted instead of what other people told her to do, outside of her family. Her family didn't really bother her though, everyone had a job, everyone knew that job and everyone was content enough to just let each other be.
It was on a lazy pre-summer day that the young heir to the Kageyama met the first person to ever truly see her.
It came in the form of a spiky haired individual with the nicest eyes that Akira had ever seen, and a set of goggles strapped round his forehead.
She had been minding her own business, carrying a bag of groceries home from the store when it happened. The celery was poking out of the bag, poking her cheek obnoxiously. It went ignored, as did the rest of the world while the child navigated between the Thursday rush of crowds. The store was almost a full block behind her when she realized that she had forgotten to get milk, prompting an agitated sigh to pass her lips. Akira turned on her heel and started back, weaving through people and avoiding stamping feet.
That's how cousin Nanao went, trampled by careless crowds at the tender age of ninety one.
When she reentered the store she was struck by raised voices. Her heart leapt at the angered shouts and she disappeared without a thought, forgetting the floating bag of groceries were being clutched to her chest.
"Thief, thief!" they were shouting, pointing accusingly at the boy roughly her age that stood in front of the counter, staring up at it with eyes as wide as her own.
"I didn't steal anything!" he objected, one hand fisted around a granola bar from the display stand. Akira frowned. She knew him from somewhere. She knew him. Her memories had been getting dangerously foggy since she had first started to understand what had happened to her, so she couldn't quite place who it was. In fact she couldn't place much of anything anymore. It was all just, not there. Like when you forget the equation for a math problem, you recognize the numbers as numbers but that's all, nothing else clicks until something makes them.
"Ma'am!" Akira tried to call, knowing it was her fault and trying to fix it. She started to push herself back into being. The boy's face snapped in her direction and he blanched several shades lighter, like someone had poured bleach on him.
"G-ghost!" he accused, pointing to her. Her eyes widened and she disappeared quickly, leaving only the image of a floating bag. The woman followed his finger and she too grew very light before a scream tore through her mouth. Panicking, frightened and on high alert Akira dropped the bag and bolted, fast as she could go.
That was not how the day was supposed to be.
*Mike Teavee was that character from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory who Willy Wanka always yelled at for mumbling. The one that got shrunk and then stretched out.