Yoko has the vague thought that it's pretty weird for the heir of a prestigious and pretentious clan to show up in a civilian library, but gets her answer relatively quickly after their meeting. Unsurprisingly, it comes from the attendant.
"Hinata-sama, this is rather inappropriate," the sour faced shinobi says, watching both of them read quietly. Hinata hunches down further into her seat, and starts the fidgeting that took Yoko volunteering a particularly colourful book on different kinds of fish for her to stop earlier.
"To-sama only said I was not to w-wander too far. The l-library is close, and has nice books," Hinata mumbles, not looking up. The attendant sighs.
So rebelion then, Yoko muses. A very passive, weak willed rebellion, but still.
"The complex has a much better selection of books for you to read, and the elders won't like you hanging out in some place so...civilian." It's obvious that whatever word the attendant was going to originally use, it was going to be a lot more descriptive than civilian.
Or perhaps civilian means the same thing as plebeian in the minds of the Hyūga.
Yoko snaps her book shut and smiles at the adult, in the way wolves smile at prey before eating them. The attendant, because they obviously have no sense and also because Yoko is six, doesn't flinch.
Times like this Yoko wishes she could talk. Well, she could, but that's no fun. She made the bet that she wouldn't, and there's no way she's losing it now. So she can't tear the attendant a new one, but she can make Hinata do it. Delegation for the win.
She nudges the girl and smiles at her in a supporting fashion, having to stretch muscles rarely used in the process. She isn't sure if she's just that much more of a cynic these days or if her new body is more predisposed towards the resting bitch face.
Hinata smiles back awkwardly. She seems relieved to find support in face of the still sneering attendant. Maybe if she knew why Yoko was being so nice she would feel differently.
Or maybe not.
"I like it here," Hinata says, after the silence gets akward.
Yoko nods and hands her another book, scooting a little closer. She's still not used to this world's code of conduct when it comes to personal space and touchiness, so she has to keep reminding herself not to be clingy with people. Of course, there's not many people she would want to be with here, but she's still used to using physical touch to communicate.
The attendant makes a noise of complaint, but doesn't bother trying to argue. In some fashion Yoko feels bad for them. They are obviously a branch member of some kind and probably feel resentment towards having to take care of the heiress. Not only do they have a freaky death seal they also have to deal with a shy eight-year-old who still gets more privileges than they do.
Doesn't excuse them for being an asshole though.
Yoko glares at them while Hinata is looking away and scoots pointedly closer. If the attendant is going to be pissy about the clan heiress spending time in a civilian library hanging out with a poor orphan girl, well, that's their problem.
"Are you in the shinobi classes?" Hinata asks quietly, flipping through one of the discarded books piled on the table. Quite a few of them are children shinobi books, because that's the majority of the selection for kids.
Yoko wrinkles her nose and shakes her head hard enough to give herself a headache.
"Oh." She doesn't sound disappointed, so much as sad. Yoko doesn't even want to wonder why.
Yoko has a fierce debate with herself for a second, the desire for a competent minion warring with her vow of silence. She's just realized how difficult it's going to be to communicate without speaking.
Finally, after a few seconds staring at the still desolate girl besides her, she sighs and tugs a bunch of loose colouring paper on the table towards her. Luckily the children's corner always has a stock of paper and crayons.
'I'm Yoko, what's your name?' She scribbles on one of the papers. Her handwriting is lopsided and messy, but mostly readable.
"Oh! I-I'm Hyūga Hinata, I should have, that is, it's nice to meet you," Hinata whispers, nerves colouring her voice again. Yoko sighs and tugs the paper towards her again.
'Hello Hyūga. I'm here everyday after class, if you want to read together.' She struggles with the characters that make up Hyūga, and she's still not sure she's written it right when she passes it over.
Hinata smiles when she sees it, so good enough.
"Can you not talk?" she asks curiously, and Yoko shrugs. She waves her hand in an ambiguous way and then pulls the paper closer again.
'They won't make a mute become a shinobi. I want to own a tea shop.' She struggles with writing her reply, frustration colouring her jerky attempts.
Hinata blinks in confusion.
Yoko huffs and shrugs. She's not sure how to indicate all the village politics and propaganda involved in the orphan education plan. Not to mention her own paranoia.
'How about you? You going to be a shinobi?' she writes instead, already knowing the answer. She wants to see if Hinata will think about it though, whether she has any other aspirations besides being her father's shadow.
Tellingly, the girl's eyes stray towards her attendant before she nods her head. Her expression somewhere between resentful and determined. Yoko feels her eyebrows rise and she grins, before she forces it down. So the young heiress isn't as pleased with her 'duty', but still wants to be a shinobi for other reasons.
She might, in any other instance, try and crack that resolution open. See about turning it on its head, fostering a dissolution with the shinobi corps that she honestly considers a mercy in the young aspiring nin. Of course, there's no way that a shinobi clan would let their heir become a civilian, so she shelves that thought for another time.
After a few hardships, a few bloody battles and bitter truths, well. Having a frustrated shinobi with political ties under her belt, just looking for a friendly face and no judgment could only benefit her in the long run.
"Hinata-sama, the time…" the attendant says tightly, eyes pinched. Yoko glances at the clock on the wall and surmises that the other girl is risking being late for supper if she stays any longer.
Sure enough Hinata startles, and then hunches down in sullen fear. No doubt afraid of her father's reaction to being late to a communal meal, and yet reluctant to leave a place she no doubts considers safe. After all, no one would look for her here, and since it is civilian owned it's also unofficially out of bounds for shinobi.
Yoko grins, and scribbles some more writing on her soon-to-be-filled pad of paper.
'We should read again sometime! I'll be waiting.'
The smile she gets in response could probably power the whole of Konoha's strangely utilitarian electricity board.
—
Yoko leaves the library with a tentative friend and a minion in the works. It will take years, and more emotional manipulation than she is used to exercising, but she's sure that it will pay off in the end. If nothing else, she now has a whole new stack of ideas and plans to go through, a nice distraction from the conditions of the orphanage and the academy.
Honestly, she had discounted the canon characters because, well, they were special in a way. Magnets for trouble and attention, and to a fault almost out of sync with the rest of the world. In a society that's so violent and obsessed with blood, so few of them seem to be aware that they are training to be killers, and not heroes.
Than again, she's not discounting the use of brainwashing in the academy's curriculum. They have Yamanakas for a reason after all.
All that said, a lot of the side characters are just that, shunted to the side and unimportant to the main storyline except in very isolated cases. What would the harm be in utilising some of their...more prudent benefits? As long as she doesn't start messing with the storyline or interacting with the actual main characters, the things she changes wouldn't do a lot. Even something as small as bolstering Hinata's confidence and independence would change, well, practically nothing.
And it's with that thought that she goes hunting. She's concerned herself with only herself so far, needing to gather strength and information and relearning how to be alive, but perhaps it is time she laid the foundation for the future.
She already has a list blooming in her head, a veritable goldmine of names and abilities and uses. From vague memories of merchants (used to justify plot missions) to background shinobi, she builds up a mental folder of identities. Of the newer generation she needs peers, friends and followers and people who, in few years, will be in positions of power or influence. Of the older generation she needs a mentor.
Twofold even. She needs someone to teach her of this world's economical situation, particular to her given dream of a tea house, as well as someone to school her on the pre-existing criminal community. As small as it is.
Most criminals are ex-shinobi, or else the very unfortunate. Two groups of people who luckily all gather in the same place. That is, Konoha's Red Light District. It's not actually a Red Light District, but it's close enough to suffice. It is also luckily close enough to the orphanage, since it's rather hard to be a successful prostitute (or for that matter, criminal) with small children getting in the way. Some of those orphans then get picked up by their families when they are old enough, put to work in whatever way said families make their money.
Yoko has always made sure to keep a wide berth from that sort of rabble, not interested in getting pressed into anything unsavoury. The sort of attention someone her age and gender would get from the petty criminals is not something to risk.
But that doesn't mean she is ignorant to the goings-on. It just makes her cautious.
—
Her first choice is an exercise in coercion, as well as being a practicality she should have thought about before. The meeting with Hinata forced home the knowledge that it's really frustrating trying to communicate without talking. And as a point of fact, it's also a lot harder to manipulate someone without tone.
Which means she needs someone to talk for her. A spokesperson, as it were. Maybe one day Hinata herself will be given that position, but right now she needs someone a little older, a little more secure. Someone who can walk down the dark alleys and do business.
And for that, she needs money. Which means she's going to have to resort to either petty thievery, or else press on someone's pity and gather money through odd jobs.
On one hand, getting caught red handed as an unsponsored orphan could spell serious repercussions or else attention of forces looking to control her. On the other hand, the other way is too slow.
She needs a steady, profitable venture that she can reap the rewards with in at least a year.
Not an easy task to be fair, or else the dark alleys of Konoha would be a lot less full, but not exactly impossible either. She already has information some people would kill for, literally, and an unassuming body that is easily overlooked in places she can gather more. She knows where the heavy spots for crime and corruption are located, knows the best spots for gossips, know who will loosen their lips with a little work.
She also knows that, despite what it might seem otherwise considering that she lives in a shinobi village, it is astonishingly easy to spy on the occupants. And, despite what she is calling 'real-world magnetism', the attention she gets as a real person in a fictional world is easily bypassed. All she needs is the ability to mimic the bland and vague background characters she passes daily. And even if that doesn't work, well, a strangely interesting young orphan is still ignorable.
After all, all the paranoid shinobi are looking for wolves at their door, and not snakes in their floors. And no one looks down when they can take to the skies.
—
Hinata watches her new friend anxiously from the corner of her eye, hands fiddling with the book in her lap nervously. Yoko is a strange creature, that she can tell already from just a week of knowing the younger girl, but she's also a welcome reprieve from her classmates and her family. She's quiet, for one, and Hinata hasn't even realised how much she needed that. Going from a house that's mostly clipped words and tense dinners, to a school that's loud and boisterous and, more importantly, chaotic, keeps her off balance all the time.
With Yoko she doesn't need to watch her posture or her manners or her words. With Yoko she doesn't have to fear stray kunai or bruises or not being good enough.
With Yoko, she can read and ask quiet questions and get smiles that hint at something more.
Hinata doesn't fool herself into thinking that the girl has no reason for letting her sit next to her and be nosy. Knows that for some reason Yoko is considering her just as much as Hinata is considering her in return. Knows that, despite the way Yoko keeps her shoulders relaxed and her smile open, if she didn't find Hinata interesting she wouldn't be there.
And maybe that's just another reason why Hinata drags her long suffering attendant here every day, as soon as she can. Because someone finds her interesting. Someone thinks she's good company.
And she doesn't know if that's ever happened before.
She's not really paying attention to the words on the page in front of her, so when the book is slipped out of her hands by a pair of smaller hands she starts a little and snaps her head to her side, where Yoko is pursing her lips a little disapprovingly. The pages have little creases where Hinata's hands have gripped too hard.
"Oh!" she whispers, suddenly embarrassed and guilty. She likes books, and tries not to ruin them when she can.
Yoko blinks, and then smiles again. There's a hint of a shrug in her mannerisms that Hinata can't quite parse. Suddenly determined to fix her mistake, and maybe to show that she's not as useless as she knows she sometimes come across as, she reaches for the book again and quickly glances to make sure that her attendant is occupied.
Sure enough, the tall form is leaning against one of the librarian's desk awkwardly flirting. Hinata wrinkles her nose and then turns her attention back to the book.
She tries to ignore Yoko's curious gaze as much as she can, and then pulls on the small well of chakra in her sternum, drawing it into one hand as she smooths over the pages.
She narrows her eyes and feels the burn in her fingers already, but slowly the creases and wrinkles flatten out. She's really just doing something she's seen her father do to delicate family scrolls, nonchalantly, but she already feels tired and worn out.
It's worth it for the look in Yoko's eyes, surprised and delighted and, just under that, calculating.
Hinata grins at her friend's wonder and then slumps back, exhausted. She lets herself have a few seconds to recuperate, even if such a small use of chakra should by all rights be easy for her. Neji already has been able to physically manifest his, after all.
A tap to her shoulder has her looking back, and she blinks at the page thrust in her face. She's used to her friend's use of the provided paper to talk, and even her inelegant way of throwing said writing anywhere it might get the most attention, but it still takes her a little bit to focus on the words.
'You can already use chakra?' is slanted across the white page. Yoko's writing has improved, but it still looks halfway to illegible.
"Not much, but Tō-sama has us doing the excercises for the Byakugan. I can hold mine for a few minutes," she responds, voice quiet. She's not really supposed to talk to non-clan about her training, but she doesn't think Yoko will tell. She has to stifle an inappropriate giggle at the thought.
The paper is retrieved as Yoko scribbles against it once again.
'Think you could teach me some things? Got a couple projects that could use some shortcuts.'
Hinata frowns, takes in her friend's rumpled appearance (part of her knows she chose to talk to the quiet civilian because of the way they appeared, carefree and disheveled and importantly, a little cocky. It reminds her of another orphan.)
"I thought you didn't want to be a shinobi," she asks.
Yoko shrugs, a look on her face that could mean amusement or could mean apathy. Whatever it means, Hinata knows she's not going to get much more of an explanation.
"I can't show you a lot, but I can get you a few of the beginner books. No one's going to know they're missing," she finally whispers, thinking about it. Something makes her apprehensive about letting her (smart, too smart) friend touch chakra. Especially if she doesn't become a shinobi.
But on the other hand, this is her first friend.
And the way Yoko smiles at her answer makes it impossible for her to regret it.
—
Masao finds the note on his desk on Monday, folded precisely and sitting innocently on the corner of his progress reports. He approaches it suspiciously, and habits from his brief stint in Konoha's T&I department have him running the few trap tests he knows. It comes up clean, and he hesitantly opens it.
'Sensei,
Since the academy doesn't have lessons in language until fifth year, would it be possible to use the classroom during free time for independent studies?
Thanks,
Yoko'
He blinks and laughs ruefully. In any other student, he would just expect them to come up after class to ask something like that. If a six year old would even want more lessons. But of course Yoko can't do that.
He pauses.
Yoko can't do that, but he has to seriously wonder why she would bother even doing this much. She spends less of her time at the academy then she does skipping, and when she is in class he always gets the feeling she's not paying all that much attention. She would be the last one he would expect to want 'independent studies'.
Or maybe that's exactly why she wants them.
He huffs out a breath and rubs his temple. It's pretty pathetic that a six year old is making his thought process this messy, and he guesses he should be happy he doesn't qualify to teach the shinobi classes because he knows the kids in their are even more of a hassle.
Even if he seriously thinks Yoko would do well there.
He pockets the note and resolves to talk to the girl after class, even if it will be more like talking at her. He sees no reason why she can't use the classroom during the free periods, if she wants to stay in school for them. Maybe it will keep her in the academy for the rest of the day as well. One can hope.
In the meantime he has a bunch of evaluations to look over, as well as the finished shinobi placement tests. A good quarter of his class is going to get shunted over to the shinobi class, only for about half of those to come back in a few years as they drop out. Although technically anyone can transfer at anytime, it's well known that the younger the better. Although there have been a few adult genin, they mostly stay there as paper pushers. Not much of a career in doing D-ranks.
He knows, if he wants to convince his students to try their luck as shinobi, he only has a few years for it. Just as he knows not all are suited to it, and he needs to prepare them for a life as civilians. He knows personally how much it will sting to have tasted chakra and shinobi life, and have to settle for the more bland life as a banker or a merchant or a teacher.
And he knows how much he wishes someone had tried to prepare him for it.
The first of his class come wandering in, knuckling their eyes and complaining about being awake, and he plasters a smile on his face as he stands to watch them enter. He genuinely likes kids, likes their innocence and creativity and even their brashness.
But he also knows his duty, and that means he will soon be shuffling off some of them to learn how to fight and kill and die. That's what it means to live under the influence of the Will of Fire.
—
Her first target is one of the older kids at the orphanage that she knows is being groomed to become a runner for one of the gambling dens. He's still in the stage where he doesn't really know what he's going to get into, doesn't realise the dangers or the rewards to being affiliated with criminals, and more importantly, doesn't have a sense of loyalty yet.
She comes to him with pocket change and candy and gets him to draw out a map of his runs. She writes that she wants to make a map of Konoha, and doesn't tell him what kind. She writes that she's scared to go to some of the places he's big enough to get to, writes that she wants to know the names of the business that he passes by because she wants to one day own her own and she can't figure out what to call it. She flatters his ego and deflates the scale of what she's asking, and she bribes him with meager offerings.
It's enough for a child. It would probably be enough for an adult too, to be honest. Over all that she hints of secrets she knows and can tell, if he tries blabbing. Writes something offhand about the monster on the third flood. He's just young enough to believe and just old enough to refuse to admit it.
He'll keep silent, at least for as long as she needs him too.
The second one is a little older than that, a frustrated sensei-less genin in the training fields. She pays him half of Hinata's copied chakra book for as much cast-away broken kunai he can find. He learns to walk on trees and comes back to her, begging.
She has him retrieve some files from the administration office that she won't be able to get access to as both a civilian and a child. He's considered neither.
She does the weeding for an old lady too poor to afford a D-rank mission pay and gets payed in half a pound of fish. She feeds them to the stray cats in her neighborhood and then attaches bells to the ones who stick around. On the bells she threads the small cameras she trades for a copy of the beginers sealing book she borrows from Hinata.
The woman she trades the book to doesn't ask why she needs cameras, and in return Yoko doesn't ask why she needs knowledge on explosive tags.
On the days that she deigns to show up for class, she uses her free period to write out her sprawling network in illegible rōmaji. Illegible because she writes it in French, but the equally illegible notes in actual Japanese probably don't help her seem anymore literate.
Ironically she's better with hiragana. That's what she's been learning at least, since most of the books are written in that format. It's also what she uses to communicate. One of these days she'll learn kanji, but today doesn't seem to be that day.
The main issue is that her penmanship is pretty atrocious. Something about the type of pens this new world uses. Makes it harder for the more fluid characters of the Roman alphabet.
She's trying though, both to practice her language skills and to plan out in more details her schemes. She uses the classroom because there's actually very little supervision when class is out of session, and because it gives her uncontested access to her classmates' and teachers' desks.
Slowly but surely, she's progressing.