Uzumaki Treasure

Chapter Two

Uzumaki Mito wasn't pouting, nor was she sulking. Or whatever Takara said she was doing. Anyway, what did she know anyway? She was blind! She couldn't see a thing!

"Still pouting?" Takara's voice came from under her, not even a hint of a strain in her voice though she had been doing push-ups with her perched on her back for half-hour already.

"I'm not pouting!" Mito did not whine out the answer, no matter what Takara's amused chuckle might have suggested.

Takara had woken up two weeks ago and had been determined since to 'get back into shape' or something like that. She had ignored whatever the Clan's healers said, quipping that she was a medic too and knew her body's limits better than they did. She had started doing runs around the compound since the morning after she woke up. She had also begun to do at least a hundred push-ups a day with Mito perched on her back.

Mito wasn't sure what Takara did while she was training or in class, but she could tell the Clan's Healers weren't pleased with anything she did.

But that wasn't why she was pouting. Or rather, wasn't the reason Takara thought she was pouting. The reason that Takara thought she was pouting was because her Grandfather had come to visit Takara the morning, during the time where Mito had started to take her break and rest.

They had talked, completely ignoring Mito, which just wasn't fair as Takara was her friend and she was his granddaughter. Takara assured him that she would do nothing to harm any of the Uzumaki Clan as long as they didn't try to harm her. She swore loyalty to the Uzumaki Clan, even going so far as letting Grandfather place on a seal her right shoulder that could cause her pain to stop her from harming any Uzumaki without reason. The seal ended up looking like the Uzumaki's swirl.

Then they started talking about what Takara would be doing for and in the Clan now that she became a retainer to the Uzumaki Clan. That was when Takara asked to be Mito's guard! And he agreed!

Mito had thought they had become friends. Takara was the only one out of the close family that called her Mito-chan and wasn't formal with her. Mito liked being treated like everyone else. But now Takara was going to be her guard. That meant she couldn't be her friend anymore, none of her previous guards had ever been her friend as well, and would end up being formal with her too. She would most likely start calling her Mito-hime like all the other guards did.

"Maa, Mito-chan I didn't know you hated me so much that you didn't want me around anymore." Takara sighed dramatically. "I'll go tell Uzumaki-sama that you obviously don't want me around or as your friend-"

"You're still going to be my friend?" Mito would never admit that her voice wavered for just a moment.

Takara paused in her motions for one long moment as Mito stared down at her pink head.

"Of course I'm still going to be your friend." Takara's voice had gone to a gentle tone that Mito hadn't yet heard from her friend. "That's why I want to be your guard. So I can protect my new little friend."

"I'm not little." Mito muttered stubbornly though there was now a smile on her face and her heart felt lighter.

"Too me you are." Takara laughed as she continued her exercise.

Takara was her friend. Takara wanted to protect her because she was her friend and not because she was the Uzumaki Princess. Takara was still going to be informal with her, still going to call her Mito-chan, still going to listen to her because she wanted too not because she had too. And she was still most likely think of ways to annoy her though she would secretly like them. Takara would be nothing like her other guards had been. Because Takara was her friend first. Whoever she used to be in her life before didn't matter to Mito.

And that made everything better.

When Takara was first allowed to walk around Uzushiogakure, she understood what inspired Senju Hashirama to one day create Konohagakure no Sato.

Uzushiogakure-the first true shinobi village-was beautiful. Even though she could no longer see, it was like a fact she knew. Like she knew the sky was blue and everything had chakra.

She knew that Uzushiogakure was beautiful.

Uzumaki Kaito, Mito's Grandfather, only let her walk around the village because of his seal. And the moment that Mito excitably tugged her out of the Uzumaki Compound, she had been overwhelmed.

The seals in the walls the surrounded the compound and the village itself made it impossible for Takara to sense it, unless she was standing within it.

The moment she had stepped out of the gates of the compound and into the village itself, she had gone still and no amount of tugging from Mito would make her move.

It had been years since she last felt the chakra of hundreds of people. The low levels of civilians and the higher levels of shinobi mixing together in a way she hadn't felt since before the war.

She could feel the chakra brimming under her feet, the very earth had absorbed traces of a thousand peoples' chakra as they went about their daily lives. She could feel the chakra infused into the seals of the stone that made up the village and its large bridges. Could feel the smooth chakra of the large rivers that ran right through the village.

But it wasn't the peaceful and overwhelming feeling of the chakra that made it beautiful to her. No, what made it beautiful was the sounds that filled the air and reached her ears, making her heart ache and long for the home in her murky childhood memories.

There was bursts of laughter with no stain of worry, like people didn't know there was a war going on. There were gleeful and playful shrieks from children—when had she last heard such a sound? It had to have been over five years.

The children weren't frightened, there were no muffled whimpers, no pained whines from the children who were told that their parents were never coming back, no sounds of panic as they were herded to a hopeful safe place so Obito couldn't kill them and thus kill their future.

They were loud in a way that she had heard in years. The children she could remember had learned swiftly that they lived longer if they were quiet.

She couldn't hear the sounds of children being taught to kill at too young of age. No stifled whimpers of pain as impassive sensei-who had learned it was better not to care for students that would only be cattle fodder on the battleground-pushed them passed their limits.

These children were playing, chasing each other through the crowds and generally making nuisances of themselves. And Takara hadn't heard something as beautiful as that in years.

There were bird songs. Bird songs! When had she last heard the birds sing? Five years ago? Maybe more.

The ground was firm under her feet, not muddy because of the blood. The rivers didn't have the coppery iron smell of blood that had once made her stomach roll. Before she could hardly remember not smelling it so obviously. She had almost forgotten how clear they could be and how fresh they could smell. She had become so used to wadding through bloody water that had left her clothes a horrifying red until she switched to wearing all black so it wouldn't show.

Uzushiogakure was peaceful and filled with happy people. No hint of a war going on was heard from its people.

And because such a thing had become foreign to her, she couldn't stop the one tear escaping her unseeing eyes. She had always been quick to tears.

She knew it had worried Mito, her reaction hadn't been normal. But the red head young girl didn't bother her about it as she explained everything about the village to Takara, describing all the sights to her.

The fact that Mito didn't let go of her hand, not once when they walked around the village, was telling enough.

Uzushio inspired her to have Konoha as close to it as possible. So Konoha's children could grow up happily, freely, and safely in her walls. She would make sure it happened.

Takara would freely admit that she wasn't expecting Senju Hashirama to be as dramatic or as emotional as he was. He was hopelessly in love with Mito, doting on her, giving gifts, and when she rebuffed his efforts, he would sulk for a while with his chakra basically screaming his depression. He loved his brothers fiercely though he didn't dote on them like he did with Mito.

Over all Takara wondered how such an over-emotional boy could be a shinobi. Then she would remember the shinobi that she had grown up surrounded by. Shinobi were all crazy—some just hid it better than others and some showed it more obviously.

But she would tell anyone who asked her opinion, which was only Mito really, that Senju Tobirama was the most annoying little brat she had ever met.

Since she was blind, he was under the mistaken impression that she was useless as a guard for his future sister-in-law. Since the Senju had arrived to visit with their cousin clan, and he had boldly and rudely stated his opinion after he was introduced to her; he had been trying to catch her off guard.

He would try to attack her, which she always stopped because she could hear him breathing and him moving. He would try to sneak up to her, which didn't work because no matter how good of control he had over his chakra, it was Takara with the prefect chakra control. He had challenged her to what was really hide-and-seek, which she always won because she could always find him and he couldn't find her.

Tobirama was a seven year old brat who had yet to grow into the ninja of legend that she knew. And Takara had spent her childhood hiding from and trying to find Hatake Kakashi. He had no hope of finding her when she had gotten so good that Kakashi had to cheat with his Sharingan to win.

He had even had the nerve to challenge her to a spar. The brat was very shocked with her amazing (read inhuman) strength though she had made sure not to use chakra. She wanted to beat down his ego, not kill him. He lost embarrassingly fast.

Then he challenged her to find Mito before he did. It had been a stupid challenge as Takara had spent months with Mito, feeling her chakra when she had been recovering and being Mito's guard before the Senju came to see them. Takara always won those challenges too.

Frustrated, he challenged her to races, but she always won no matter what had been set in her way. She had been running for a lot longer than him and she was a lot taller than him.

It pissed her off that a seven year old could consider her useless because she was blind. It also pissed her off that he wouldn't stop challenging her every single day.

Hashirama made the stupid mistake of saying he thought his younger brother had a crush on her. Takara's temper, which had gotten better as she got older but had still been considered legendary and widely feared, snapped. When Takara had finished her furious rant, Hashirama had been a cowering ball at her feet and she could feel Mito staring at her in awe.

Hashirama became wary of coming close to her since then and Tobirama had found it hard to look at her face since. Mito would tell her later that his face was always red when he did. He had obviously heard that rant she had given his brother about the stupid idea of a crush and what she would do to both him and Tobirama if they mentioned it again. Her words had been violent and graphic in what she would do to them.

Tobirama was also furious with Hashirama. Any spars between them got very bloody.

Many of the Uzumaki men that had heard her rant had gotten a sudden dose of fearful respect when it came to her. She couldn't wait till the Senju left.

Mito knew that she loved Takara. She knew they had only known each other a short while but it didn't matter to her. She knew she loved the strange pink haired woman. And that was why Mito would never tell anyone about her suspicions, especially not Hashirama's father—Senju Butsuma—who had been eyeing Takara with distrust since he met her and treated her with little respect.

She was sure that Takara had to have at least some of her memories. Mito knew that Takara knew her real name but for some odd reason she was content with her new name. She suspected that Takara came from far away, fought in a war very different from the Warring States, a war where she had lost everything too.

She knew that Takara was grieving. She suspected that she was the only friend that Takara had alive. She also suspected that Takara would be protective of her, and she didn't really mind, because Takara wanted to keep Mito safe. Not the Uzumaki Princess, her!

Mito knew that Takara was a lot more guarded then she let people know. She knew that she was the only one that Takara had currently let in her heart. She suspected that Mito had reminded her of someone briefly, but was sure that Takara loved her for her and not for a ghost she reminded her of.

She suspected Takara was planning something. She didn't think it was anything bad or anything that would harm Mito or the Uzumaki and Senju Clans, but she didn't know what. And honestly, she didn't want to know.

She knew whatever Takara was planning had to do with the memories she claimed not to remember. Mito thought it was best if she only knew who Takara was now, and didn't try to find out who she had been in the past.

She trusted Takara. Takara was too kind and compassionate to do something truly horrible.

She knew that Takara was dangerous—deadly. The ease in which she evaded Tobirama's attacks and attempts on finding her was telling. Even if for once Tobirama was too hot-headed to realise it. She was sure he would. Eventually.

Mito knew that she—and only she—had Takara's loyalty, and Mito hoped that Takara knew that she had hers in return.

She knew that Takara was more effected by the war she had fought then Mito suspected that Takara knew. Her clothing choices were simple, durable and meant to protect her.

Thick durable black fitted trousers-fitted enough that they wouldn't hinder her movement and loose enough that they wouldn't make it awkward to move-that she tucked into her black steel-toothed boots that protected her feet. A black sleeve-less turtle neck top with a dark grey flak jacket and a chain mail vest underneath both. Dark arm guards-inlaid with metal-were worn over long leather gloves with blank metal plates that protected the back of her hands. There was padding in her trousers to make it harder for her to be slashed or stabbed fatally in the leg. Takara also had a habit of wearing a chain mail collar under her turtle-neck top so it would need more force for someone to slash her throat.

She knew despite the fact that Takara seemed rather laid-back with the rest of the clan that Takara only really trusted Mito. It had taken her a while to notice. But she had seen the way Takara held herself differently around the rest of the clan, loose enough to attack and stiff enough to defend. But she was relaxed when it was just the two of them, though always ready for an attack, and that was how Mito knew that Takara trusted her.

And Mito trusted Takara, no matter what she was hiding or planning. Takara was her friend and Mito trusted her.

And that was all the mattered.