Hello! Quick A/N here! I'm still looking for a Beta who is good with story flow and fleshing out landscape descriptions! (The Betas I ask are either uninterested or never respond ( T w T ) Also, all jutsu in this chapter are actual registered jutsu. Sorry for not updating recently since my wifi's been wonky, but I hope this 10k makes up for it :P
"Oh. You're here."
"Nice to see you too, Taru-chan!" Shisui chirps swinging the kunai in his hand aimlessly with the other stuffed in his pocket. It's day one in the Academy, and it already sucks without Itachi and Shisui. No one in my class is noticeably from canon, and they're all really stuck-up. The curriculum is easy enough, seeing as I know almost everything they teach, and on the things I don't know, I cheat. Simple. In this profession, if you aren't cheating, then you aren't trying hard enough. I like to think of it as getting extra practice in.
"Where's Itachi?" I ask, looking around for the missing link that typically cones with Shisui in the package. He pouts, jutting his lip out as half of me wants to roll my eyes and the other half of me wants to kiss him. I settle to give him a blank stare. "What, am I not enough? I even came over here just to support you on my last day!"
"Translation; Itachi got caught up with Izumi so you felt neglected and you came over to bother me."
Shisui slumps. I knew it. It's easier to read an Uchiha after being drowned in them for most of your life. Helps to be one, too, but I don't really technically count. Plus, he's been extra needy around me ever since Sasuke's absolutely hideous baby face came into this world about a year ago. "I guessed correctly. Therefore, I am worthy of a prize. Tell me something about the Academy. Don't tell me about genin squad components. I already know those." I demand, remaining perfectly blank even though Shisui's frowning pout was absolutely hilarious. "Maa, Taru-chan, that's too much!" He whines, making me smile slightly before I reach my hand up and tap his forehead.
Shisui's grin splits his face.
"Aw, you're taking after us, Taru-chan!" I scowl at him, my nose scrunching up as anything cute about him in my mind is lost at my embarrassment. "I am not. Now hurry up, don't change the subject. Tell me how to get into Anbu." I command him, quickly swiping my hand at him to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Ow, ow, Taru-chan! I-"
"Hotarubi Uchiha! You're up against Hana Inuzuka. Hurry up!" My teacher calls out, infuriated by my lack of attention. Oops. I cast a withering glare at Shisui who simply smiles in amusement, pointing an accusatory finger at him with a reminder that he has to make it up to me before running up to the small, white-marked sparring ring. Hana, who I failed to recognize before, looks incredibly invigorated at the idea of beating up an Uchiha. Not cool. That's prejudice, right? Or does she just really like the permission to brag people up, and I just happened to be chosen? I guess it really doesn't matter; I'm just glad she isn't allowed to use the three Haimaru Brothers in this fight. I can't handle kicking puppies.
I slide my hands into the deep pockets of my baggy, black jeans as Hana shifts into her position, a low stance with her arms out to the sides. The teacher nods and leaves us, moving on to the next pair who are awaiting instructions. "Hana, right?" I drawl, locking my eyes onto hers. If she knows of the Uchiha Sharingan (Who really doesn't?) or if she's stupid or brave, she doesn't break eye contact. I'm veering on probably brave stupidity. "How about we make a deal?" I offer, eyeing Shisui in the corner of my eye who obviously has nothing better to do, seeing as his class is taking a break a field across from us. Hana scoffs, her hair shifting with the movement. "Why would I make a deal with an Uchiha, much less one I'm about to beat the piss out of?" Okay, so it's neither stupidity or bravery, but condescending. Fun. "A ninja never underestimates their opponent." I sigh, but Hana only rolls her eyes. "You're literally two feet shorter than me and you only just joined the Academy. In the middle of the year." My eye twitches. "I'm two years younger than you, and me being in the advanced class is a testament to my capability, no? Well, you're obviously not going to listen to reason, so..." I sluggishly slink into my taijutsu style, leaning forward slightly on the balls of my feet, left foot forward and right arm back, the left held out front with my fingers curled into a claw-like position. "Finally!" Hana barks, rushing forward at blinding speeds, something that makes me blink twice before I jump backwards to the right, towards her other palm as I bend back to avoid a follow-up sucker punch. I hadn't been expecting her to move so fast, but it is war time, but she's not as fast as Itachi. I grab her arm as I arc halfway backwards, not giving her time to retreat as I rip the offending hand to the side and downwards, making Hana tumble down with it as I use my hold to pivot myself onto her back, forcing her wrist to twist onto the center of her shoulder blades. She immediately flips over onto her back as I barely jump off in time, cursing my small form as she leaps up and marks a sweeping kick for my ribs, fists tucked tucked close as I duck under the blow, grabbing her ankle and pulling her forward. The awkward angle forces her to lose balance as she hits the ground with a thunk, and I repeated my earlier actions and use her leg to propel me forward. I steal a kunai from her pouch as I pass, not bothering to be subtle as I press the kunai against her neck.
"Give." Hana whispers, displeasure and shock in her eyes. I slide the kunai back into her holster, stepping back as she rubs at the thin line of blood on her neck. Shisui claps his hands on the sidelines as Hana's three Haimaru pups come yapping over. Ignoring Shisui and the angry, nosy pups nipping at my cargo pants, I lend a hand out to Hana in an offer to help. She blinks and stares at my palm in distrust. I sigh, tired of the blatant dislike of all Uchiha that has been raining down ever since the Kyuubi attack. It was bad for me in the beginning, now the general bias has made my situation worse. I need to get stronger as quickly as possible, and with Hiruko gone and Fugaku unable to provide me with taijutsu or ninjutsu training (after many failures, we determined I was not fire-natured. Fugaku looked throughly defeated, if I remember) and Shisui on missions, Itachi is my only sparring partner. The strong are determined by the weak, and the strong can nurture the weak. That all means nothing if I can't find someone strong outside of Anbu or Jonin, who would only apprentice me if they genuinely didn't care about my inheritance or on orders from the Hokage themselves, and while Itachi is truly a prodigy, I'll never get experience in if I don't find someone else to aid me. And frankly? Most of the kids in this whole village are high and mighty to anyone without a positive title.
"Not all Uchiha have a stick up their butt." I murmur low enough for her to hear, making her eyes snap up to mine. She's a mix of amused and gobsmacked from her reaction, but the tell-tale fanged grin of the Inuzuka tears it's way onto her face before I can retract my hand. Amused as I strain a little to haul her up, she takes mercy on my accursed tiny toddler body and heaves herself up. "Not bad, kiddo. I admit my defeat. What style was that, anyways?" She asks as one of the three pups begins gnawing at the seams of my gauze wrap. I smile a little as Shishui saunters over, purposely ignoring him as I pick up the offending pup. "It's her own style. Super smart, isn't she, ne? She takes after me!" Shishui clips, folding his arms atop my head to use it as a chin rest. "Your own style, huh? Pretty sweet!" Hana barks, ruffling the fur of the black and white Haimaru brother in my arms. I snuggle my face into the wiggling pup's head, feeling the warmth of the ridiculously soft fur. Dogs are really therapeutic. "Don't you have to meet with your team right now?" Shisui blinks. "Oops."
"You forgot, didn't you?"
"Yep!" He replies, popping the 'P' before skipping off. "See ya later, Tarubi-chaaan~!" He sings, waving behind himself as he runs off.
"So you have a dog too? Can I see him?!" Hana begs, her eyes sparkling as we walk through the hall together. "... he's, um... doggish, but he's technically almost a summon... like a ninken, but not... it's kind of odd to describe..." I try to dissuade her, pointedly looking at everywhere in the halls except at her. "Oh, come one, pleeasseee?" She whines, the Haimaru triplets joining in with her infamous Inuzuka puppy-eyes. I groan internally. It's cute on dogs, but people here don't seem to get that I find it very unappealing and childish on people. "Fine, if you want to that badly." I give in, slumping a little as Hana shouts in victory, causing more than a few eyes to lock on us. As adorable as it is that she's been shadowing me since our spar, it's often times more trouble than it's worth. It's been half a year since she declared herself my friend. Rather one-sidedly, might I add. Please stop, Hana. I sigh in my head, ducking my head low as she pumps her fist in the air. Why do kids in this universe have to be too shallow, too expressive, or too smart for their age? My hair's going to turn white at this point. The Academy is quite different than the one in Naruto's time; stone marks the entrance point that me and Hana could see if we looked to the left, the rest of the halls completely wooden and decorated with traditional headstones instead of picture frames.
A loud clamoring makes it's way towards us, making everyone's attention, including ours, to the commotion in the hallway. Three boys are hiding behind Itachi, one large, burly boy facing my childhood friend with a less than amicable expression. I raise a brow, wonder what the heck Itachi of all people could have done to provoke such a situation before it clicked. Oh, right. This happened in canon too.
The boy charges at Itachi after he's given the Academy spar sign, but Itachi grabs his fist and flips him over, hardly phased at all when the boy cries out from the pain of his shoulder dislocating. "Get him to the infirmary." I cut in, stealing Itachi's line as the kids around him scramble to praise him as the others hurriedly obey my call, hauling the behemoth off to the clinic. Hana smirks behind me as everyone makes a slight path for us, eyes wary of my signature bushy hair that sways as I walk to Itachi. I look up to him, our eyes connecting when I stop. I frown and give him a sympathetic look. "You got roped into the 'high-tier' status too, haven't you?"
Itachi nods, looking purely dismayed at the looks of awe and fear of the other students. I sigh outwardly this time. "Well, come on then, clone-san. We've got History Class together." I tell him as his eyes widen slightly, not paying it much heed as Hana blinks in confusion. "Eeeh? What you talking about? That Itachi's a clone? Where's the real one?" She asks, making me smile slightly at her ability to take it in stride. "Being a dirty-ditcher, that's what." Hana looks at me suspiciously, eyeing both me and Itachi. I smirk. She catches on quickly. "Don't worry; his is a Shadow Clone, you wouldn't have been able to realize that as an Academy student. And me? Blood Clone."
"No fair!"
"Ne, Itachi, do you know any Fuinjutsu?" I ask, knowing his probable answer.
His kunai hit the targets with a thunk as he pulls his arm back, all twenty-seven targets hit in the bulls-eye. I take a moment to appreciate the scenery, the scent of fresh air and forest woods wafting through the green of the trees and grass around us in the miniature clearing. "No?" He raises an eyebrow at my question as I shift in my place on the rock, feeling and probably looking much alike to a sun-bathing cat. "I'm thinking of having storage seals inscribed on my fingers. It would make pulling out and using weapons much easier." I explain, twirling my kunai in my hand before flicking my wrist, throwing the knife directly in the center of my connect-the-dot kunai portrait of the Hidden Leaf symbol. "That would be great, if only you could learn to throw anything but kunai, Tarubi-chan~." Shisui coos, twirling his kunai in hand as he appears from the shadows of the trees, forehead protector shining like a beacon in the light peeking through the canopy. He looks at Itachi's handiwork, admiring a perfect hit on each and every target. "You're very talented for your age." He comments as I roll onto my stomach, watching the familiar scene play out before my eyes. Itachi's mental state is declining at the moment. I've been keeping a close eye on him; never have I forgotten my goal. I'm glad I don't have to worry much about Shisui yet, but Itachi is taxing on his own. I'd met him too late to curb his meeting with Orochimaru, but I plan on confronting him very soon.
"I'm nothing compared to you, Shisui-san." Itachi replies as the two seem to forget my presence. I suppose I have the resiliency of fate and time to thank for that. "Oh, come on... what's wrong? The Academy bore you two so much that you're ditching?" Shisui questions us, surprising me a little. I smile, my heart warming a little. Of course they wouldn't forget about me- they're Itachi and Shisui. They're my friends, real friends. With them, I have nothing to fear. "We're not ditching." Itachi sniffs, able to avoid looking offended as I slide down the rock, catching myself before my head hits the ground before I stand. "We have stand-ins." I finish for Itachi who sulks, tossing another kunai at the targets. Shisui smiles wickedly. "That's my little minions! Now c'mere- I'll teach you a few tricks!"
The two of us crowd around Shisui, my sharingan activated as we stare at Shisui's hand before, to a normal eye, he pulls a kunai out of nowhere. He clenches it and it disappears, four appearing the second time he opens his hand. "That's incredibly annoying to learn." I scowl, my sharingan flickering off as Itachi attempts to do the same, getting it perfect the first time. I fumble with my kunai a little before I get it right, able to slide the kunai away from sight without nicking myself after seven minutes. "There's a lot of sleight of hand tricks that will help you later on. Are you still having trouble with your handsigns, Tarubi-chan?" Shisui asks, Itachi's eyes flickering to me. I grumble lightly, annoyed with the subject of the topic. "It's not my fault- handsigns draw my attention away- not help my concentrate." I state, miffed at Shisui's blatant exposure of my weakness. Since I can't learn handsigns, I take to clapping my hands like in prayer or just not using them at all- typically resulting in a perfect jutsu, but it drives Fugaku nuts that it technically makes the copying part of my sharingan useless for learning most jutsu. As long as I understand a jutsu, I can do it, but I can't just magically print out a jutsu like Itachi or Shisui can. Shisui hums. "Maybe it's a genetic thing?"
I shrug at his suggestion. I wouldn't know. I simply did what Hiruko told me to, and the Demon was never my mother in the first place, and I doubt she could tell me anything now. The poisonous chakra of the Kyuubi had killed her. I buried her with the graves of fireflies, the only part of the old Uchiha district to have survived. Now, completely abandoned with no one but me as the new crypt-keeper, it was more haunted by the spirits of dead, unknown soldiers than ever.
Shisui lets it drop as he shrugs, ruffling my already wild mane. I growl and swat at his hand, making him smirk. I'm beginning to look like Madara with my mop of hair- the only difference being that I'm much smaller and silver streaks blaze through my hair like brindling, the tips white. "Okay, okay! Try it while aiming at the targets now." Shisui advises, standing back as I aim to poke him in the ribs. Miffed at his dodge, I walk up next to Itachi and pull my empty hand back. Effortlessly, we strike our hands forward, four kunai in our respective palms in time to be launched in different directions. They all hit center-mark. I blink and look down at my hand. It's rough and calloused, smaller (obviously) than what my hand used to be. Five years ago, I could only dream to be able to use such a trick. But these hands? These hands don't crack and bleed. These hands don't singe and burn every time they're exposed to harsh soap and steam. I... am stronger now.
I flinch, the expected swarm of memories flooding my head. The fight had finished and our clones had dispelled, just as they had in the anime... oh no. From what my clone's memories recall, Hana also got caught up in the fight. I guess I owe her. "Ikou." I tell Itachi, walking away with him as Shisui tosses a kunai into the abused targets, glancing at us while we walk away. "Where're you two going?"
"We have to get back." Itachi explains, dusting his hands as I smile a little. Shisui's going to be mad when he realizes that since we're leaving, he has to pick up all the left over kunai. "You do?" Shisui drones, his lip pouting a bit from my peripheral vision. Kawaii. Itachi is silent for a moment, before he suddenly stops. I don't look back, only stand still as I wait for him. What will I say? This is what will help form Itachi's future. What will Shisui say? Will he have changed with my prescence? "Shisui, Hotarubi..." Shisui looks up from his target. "Why is there fighting in life?" Itachi asks as I turn around, looking him in the eyes through my bangs. Shisui and I share a look before he takes initiative, taking a step forward with the most serious expression I've ever seen on his face in this life. "Who knows?" He says, opening his closed eyes as he stares past the darkness of the canopy that the leaves provide, his eyes focused on the light. "But... if the fighting can be stopped, I'd like to stop it." He announces, staring at us once more. "I think..." I begin, avoiding their gazes as I turn mine to the woods, something akin to perhaps shame from the wrongness that I am. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be speaking. But... for once in my life, I wish to be heard. They won't filter my words. They won't condemn me for my speech. They won't treat me like a clueless child because they know I am not. If this is counted selfish, then it's the first selfish thing I've done. In this life and the last. "I think that conflict cannot be avoided." I say, confidence slowly rising in my throat as I look back at their intent faces, quiet and listening. "Conflict is needed if anyone wants to understand. As long as we have free will, conflict is the cost of that. But petty fights for the sake of wounded pride or a self-acclaimed righteousness?" I shake my head, my eyes pulsing like they always do when I use the sharingan, deep, hidden and buried emotions of suppressed rage and sadness boiling behind my crimson-three tome orbs. "I will never stand by such a thing." I say with utmost clarity, never feeling more free and vulnerable as I have in this moment. Itachi is quiet, staring at the moss of the forest floor. "I think... I think I understand now. I agree, Shisui. Hotarubi." He announces, looking back up and smiling. I smile at his shared, albeit well-hidden embarrassment as he turns and jogs off towards the Academy. "Ja ne, Shisui."
"... see you later."
"Graduation?" Fugaku parrots with widened eyes as Itachi sits calmly while I bounce a heavy baby Sasuke on my hip. He was an ugly newborn, but he's the cutest thing now. Minus the teething and the drooling he's doing on my white tank top. "After only a year in the Academy?" He breathes, lifting his arms as Mikoto takes off his vest and walks off to put it in the laundry. "The teacher says it's okay as long as both parents agree. They want to talk to you at school." He says, eyeing Sasuke who pinches my poor, poor nose. He seems almost possessive with the fact that I was just sniffing the air for his mom's food. No wonder he's going to be such a jerk when he grows up. "I see..." Fugaku says, sitting down on the opposite side of the low table with a smile on his face. "That's my boy." He praises his eldest as Mikoto returns, drifting off to the other room to put away extra clothes as the beef stew on the stove rolls at a low boil. Sasuke wiggles and cries out in my arms, leaning towards his big brother. With a wry, bitter smile I let him go as he crawls over to him, pawing at his shirt. "Hotarubi, what will you be doing about the paperwork?" Itachi asks me, picking up Sasuke with a gentle smile while Fugaku blinks. Good going, Itachi. Bring it up in front of the clan head. "I'll be filling it out tonight." I huff, avoiding looking at the closet-dad extraordinaire to pick at the callouses on my toes. "Paperwork? You graduated too, Hotarubi?"
"Kind of. There aren't enough kids to shove me on a team with and having a fourth genin would only slow the team down, so I'm being apprenticed." I explain, looking up when I feel a bit less pensive. "That's only if I can find a kunoichi to teach me on pastime for missed Kunoichi Classes- said it was necessary before I can actually be taught." I tell him, feeling his eyes bore into my skin. Mikoto chooses this exact time to return, smiling happily as she goes and stirs the ladle in the soup of heavenly deliciousness. "Mikoto." Fugaku calls out to her, making her turn around in questioning. Oh no. "Would you be willing to teach Hotarubi kunoichi lessons?" Mikoto equals Sasuke. Sasuke equals extreme emotional ties that lead to angst and unneeded drama later in my life. Please, Mikoto. Please say nO- "Sure! Hota-chan has helped Itachi frequently and is a good friend to him, so I do believe that I owe her at least this." I sigh through my nose, my fate sealed as a giggling Sasuke bounces innocently in Itachi's arms. I bet the little booger is cackling on the inside at my misfortune, because close friend or not, if Mikoto offers you something, you accept it. Knowing her, training will be a huge hassle of neverending criticism of my horrible manners, even if she tolerates them daily. "Who will you be apprenticed to? Not many Jounin take an apprentice, so it must be quite an honor." Fugaku says as Mikoto leaves once more to return to the kitchen. She pours a steaming cup of green tea, gingerly placing them in the hands of Fugaku. I hesitate a little before telling him. "I'm not quite sure... but they say that should I have a tendency to disappear, there will be no need for worry." I imply, meeting the sharp look that crosses Fugaku's eyes. To disappear is a secret code used for Anbu. I don't know how he's going to react, but he seems to be responding well... on the outside, at least. Itachi senses the tension in the air and looks up from coddling Sasuke, his eyebrows knitting together as he mulls over my sentence. I don't expect him to figure it out- what stays in Anbu stays in Anbu, and those digging around it are thrown off with ease. Such is why Danzo remained undetected in his crimes for so many years. "I see. You've become a recruited shadow, then?"
"Aa." I respond, wincing when baby Sasuke leans over and tugs at my lion-esque hair. With him around, I'm definitely going to have to reign it in with a hair tie. "I see. That is quite the honor." He says after mulling over it, and takes a long sip of his tea. And that was that. Itachi didn't seem happy in his inability to catch the unsaid memo, but he keeps quiet as he gently pries Sasuke's wandering hands out of my mane. Itachi breaks the mold before it infests the atmosphere as he begins talking to his father about his day. Fugaku nods and responds accordingly, laughing at the peculiar scenarios that his son had gotten into today. I listen half-heartedly as Itachi is clearly more enthralled with his father at the moment, while the same attention is given to me as a now free and dangerous mini-Sasuke tugs and swats at my dangling hair. I don't really mind, since I'm more tired and hungry than anything for Itachi to converse with me, and hair-pulling doesn't hurt all that much. It's nice and all, hearing Itachi's idle chatter, but...
I don't belong here.
"Gomen, Fugaku-san, Mikoto-senpai." I break Itachi's line of speech, causing all heads to turn to me. Gently, I pick up Sasuke and place him in Itachi's hand as he pulls away with a few strands of hair. Itachi takes him compliantly, confused and a bit obviously distressed as I stand and turn to leave. "But I need to get back..." To where? The crypt? That isn't a home. Do I have a home anymore? Graves aren't family. Especially graves without names or faces. Do I still have a family?
I walk to the door, tears stinging in my eyes. I don't want to think about it. I've been suppressing it- and I must do so again. I don't have the time to cry. I don't have the time to sit and wait, I don't have the time to breathe. I need to sit still and look pretty, behave accordingly and cast away the Uchiha name. I need to become greater, stronger, faster, I need to become useful. Even if it means I have to- "You won't be eating with us?" Itachi calls to me, making me flinch in surprise. I turn and see his wide eyes, frowning face and and slumped, heavy shoulders. Sadness and warmth bloom in my heart, tears dried before they can be born as blood rushes to my cheeks. That's right.
I close the sliding door shut and walk over to a distressed Itachi, unable to keep the small corners of my mouth from quirking up. Itachi watches with wide eyes as I raise my hand and tap his forehead, effectively freezing him in place. "Sorry, Itachi. Maybe next time." I turn around and walk out the door with a brief, last glance towards him and the little Sasuke pulling at his hair before leaping out, my feet thudding dully on the ground as I run through the Uchiha district, ignoring the cries of surprise and anger that arise when I speed past people. Itachi is family. The knowledge resounds in my head like a second breath, soothing the giant ache in my heart. That's why I'm preparing. Itachi is worth it.
I slow down, breathing lightly labored as I view the lights that spring up in my view, happiness exuding from the air. People chat amiably in the market street-side, families smile and laugh as their young ones point and joke. I walk with mirth and a particular energy as I see couples stroll along the Uchiha marketplace, whispers of contempt and distrust always within earshot as I pass by each and every single one of them, my smile growing wider and with more teeth (too many teeth, too, too many to count, teeth that aren't my own...) as they stop and stare. Murmurs and scoffs bleeding into the squealing of a happy child, glares shot through the bright light of the red-lit lamps meant to ward away vile spirits and promote wellbeing, fists clenched and teeth, teeth, clenching when I make eye contact. But that doesn't matter. No, none of this matters, not as long as I'm not the victim- all of this for Itachi. tHey could all perish, I could PerIsh, all let'S Bow TO THe DeATh kinG, ComE, nOw, whIlE i sIng, bEfOrE EvEn I, thE rEAPer fAll tO OUr knEEs, ALl fOr tHE dEAth kIng-
"That's a scary smile, right there." I jump and whirl to the side to see Shisui standing off to the side, hand on his hip and an obviously very, very unconvincing smile. I shift awkwardly, still a bit dazed and twitchy from... from my episode. He watches me like a raven, calmly, quietly, his eyes studying every movement with piercing, black eyes. It makes sense why he was able to make a contract with them- he was like them. Expressive but so very, very cautious. My numb tongue shifts as I lick my dry lips, nervous fear of being seen in such a state, especially Shisui, of all people, driving my mind to speak. to say something to keep away those prying eyes. I smile thinly, and I can feel my lips twitching at my unconvincing smile as Shisui waits from my view, muddled by strands of grey and black hair. "Don't I always look that way?" I joke, letting a thin chuckle crack through my dark, sultry voice. Shisui hums, tapping his chin as anxiety eats me up. "Hmm... nope! My Tarubi-chan always looks cute to me, even if she's scary to everyone else!" He chirps, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. My face flushes despite the off-put people around us, obviously not wanting to accept my prescnce, but unsure of what to make of Shisui. He's quite well-respected in this district, after all.
I look away and click my tongue, feeling my cheeks burn. "What's up with you referring to me with a 'my?' I'm not yours, idiot." Shisui doesn't seem affected at all by my words, in fact he seems more pleased than anything else. "Well, if Itachi-kun has Izumi and Sasuke-chan, I get you! Therefore, you're mine." He explains, patting my head that, thankfully, now reaches his shoulders. A squirt I am no longer. "I belong to nothing." Nothing but death itself. "That's a very childish thing for you to say even though you've already been a ninja for a while, Shisui." I chastise him, making his bottom lip jut out in a pout. "What's gotten into you? You're very cynical all of a sudden. Where'd my cute little Tarubi-chan go? Now I've got a nasty, grown-up version." Shisui teases, making me smile a little as I tear my eyes away from his lips that I hadn't realized I've been staring at. "Tch, this nasty version's here to stay. I've always been this way." Shisui laughs at my curt tone, but it does only a little to draw a small smile to my face. I'm still shaken from my psychopathic burst. I feel a bit better now that he's here, but paranoia is still crawling up my spine and shifting under my skin like a parasite ready to burst and devour me whole. I can feel the tiny feet scampering skin-deep, creeping, crawling...
"I know that! Guess I've just gotta warm you up!" Shisui exclaims before leaping on me. I squeak in surprise as his arms curl around my shoulders and he pulls me into himself, my face smashed into his chest. "Shisui!" I protest, my hands pressing against his pectorals as I try to push away, uncomfortable with the amount of closeness and heat he is exuding, but I'm only partially successful as his arms give a little, but he clenches harder immediately. I let out an oof as my arms dangle at my sides, my cheek laid prone against his sternum. My head becomes as hot as a volcano as people on the street give us odd looks as they whisper and inch away, Shisui's heartbeat pounding in my ear like a gentle melody, the smooth, constant strokes- like the hearts I devoured.
All warmth leaves my face as I go rigid, my vision morphing to the faces scrunched in excruciating pain, cries and sobs and desperate pleas cutting my ears of innocent faces-
"You have that face again." Shisui says, snapping me out of the vision before it gets worse as he tightens his hold on me. I sigh and fall into his warmth; his heart still alive and beating in my ear. "Aa." I grunt, shifting my face into his chest, content though I have to breathe a little harder. I squish my arms between us to warm them as his hand combs through my hair, lulling me into wondrous contentment. It feels nice to forget.
"You should put your hair back sometime, it might get in the way on missions. Maybe it's also why you suck at shuriken." I huff at his jab at my skills, but take no offense as I dazedly gaze up at him when his burning hot hand cups my cheek, gently nudging me to look up. I comply as I peek at him with a barely opened eye, closing the other as his warm thumb trails across my temple, lifting aside the spiky bangs in his view. He tenses a little as he sees the scars, used to only seeing one on the corner of my mouth. Still, he doesn't stop his caresses, gently tracing the largest scar from my hairline to the middle of my cheek, just past the crease of my eye. I sigh and curl into him, closing my eyes as his warm, protective arms shield me from the world and my thoughts.
Maybe it's okay if I forget for a while.
I swing the entou-tachi at her again, the grip of both blades in my hands like extended limbs as she easily jumps above my scissor cut, her leg striking out like a viper's strike towards my head. I jump back to draw away, using the momentum to speed back forward as she draws her own katana, my left blade smashing into hers as I thrust the second forward to her abdomen. She grabs that wrist and I immediately plunge the sword into the earth, catapulting my body with it to send a foot into her stomach, our engaged blades screeching as I maneuver past them. She grunts as my attack connects, letting my wrist go to capture my offending foot and she wrenches my to the side towards the concrete wall. I arch my back as she tries to fillet my back mid-thrust, using my free blade to swing to slice her arm. In her momentum, it connects and it slices through her arm, revealing pink and red, furious flesh with quartz bones. I dispel the genjutsu and the arm turns into a halved log of typical substitution. I go sliding towards the wall, but I dig my newly freed blades into the ground as I skid, stopping me two feet from slamming into the stone.
My team looks on from the sidelines, Saru clapping, being the more open member as the other porcelain masks stare emptily. Our captain, Inu, is quiet as my opponent shunshins next to him, her blade neatly dented from contact with my entou-tachi. I tug the swords out of the ground, sliding them over my shoulders as they ring quietly in their sliding motion into their sheaths. I step over to join them, looking up to the mask with silver hair in a silent patience for approval. He nods to me and Tora. "You'll use the twin entou-tachi from now on. Tora, insight?" Tora shifts her vision to me, her purple hair sifting past the pale plaster. "You use them very naturally. I've noticed that your style is relentless and focused, but slightly reckless. That will have to be worked on, and you'll become more accustomed to using the blades in the future. I suggest buying a pair that are denser and ingrained into the hilt." She suggests as I nod, taking it all in and pleased at my own performance. Suzume grunts, crossing his arms as though displeased by Yugao's evaluation. I leer at him from my mask, and he stares back with his beaked mask defiantly. Inu nods. "Tora will continue to teach you kenjutsu before you're officially added to Team Ro's ranks. Saru, Suzume, a three-way match between us." Behind the mask, Kakashi orders, and we all give him our nods. "Hai, Taichou." The three of them shunshin to the adjacent field, immediately sending kunai and shuriken towards each other before anyone could shout 'begin.'
Tora turns towards me and unseals a second blade from the pocket of her Anbu-commission pants. "You catch on quickly. It's no wonder you've been recruited at such a young age, even younger than Inu-Taichou." She praises me, making me shrug a bit uncomfortably in the white vest. "In practicality, maybe. I'll probably never be able to beat Taichou or someone like Itachi in math or strategy." I try to draw out her disinterest, but it doesn't work as she prods. "Perhaps, but you're certainly worthwhile to any lucky teacher. Your ninjutsu stats at the academy were incredibly high- care to learn the Hazy Moon Night technique?"
Shisui squeezes my hand gently as I lick the strawberry popsicle. I part from the treat and lift it up just enough so that he gets a good bite into the top of it... with his front teeth. I grimace at that, oddly fascinated with how he could do that and not face the wrath of cold teeth. "That's disgusting." I openly voice my complaint, making him smirk as I grumble and gnaw at the icy treat with my molars. The sweet taste and chewy, juicy bits of sweet and sour strawberry bites on my tongue as the gentle, smoothie-like texture of the ice glides on my tongue. It's a beautiful day in Konoha terms- decently warm sunlight shining in the cerulean sky, light, lazy clouds being pushed along by an invisible force as the abandoned walkway by the lake heats under the mid-afternoon sun. The lake glistens and ripples, reflecting wavering images of the dark green leaves on the camphor and zelkova trees. "Ne, ne, Tarubi-chan, look at that!" Shisui whispers, pulling me behind a tree as I yelp in surprise. I growl at him but look in the direction of his fascination, my eyes widening when I see what he's gesturing at. It's Itachi and Izumi, sitting down at the tail end of the dock, a bad of mitarashi dango between them.
"Shisui, you're genius." I crow quietly, a smirk on my face. We watch as Itachi eats the dango and Izumi prattles on in the distance. I don't even notice his hands on my waist or how Shisui's front is pressed flush to my back until his hot breath descends upon my neck, making me freeze. I notice his hands wrapped around my waist, his hips- oh Lord. Holy crap. I'm, like, five in this world. I shouldn't be thinking bad things. Bad thoughts, away! Away! I scream desperately in my mind as he presses even closer, and I can feel body heat radiating on him. "Shisui, I'm gonna be squashed." I wheeze, panicking on the inside as I try to excoriate my highly unneeded line of thought. "Oh. Oops!" He laments, stepping back as I breath in a breath of relief. He watches me intently as I turn and brush aside the branches of the shrub we're hiding behind. "Hey, Shisui, should we embarrass Itachi?" I don't receive an answer. "Shisui?" I repeat, looking behind myself to see Shisui staring intently at his hand. What's bothering him? "Are you alright?" I ask, shifting upright to stare at him, snapping him out of his reverie. "Huh? Oh, yeah. So we're gonna embarrass him?" He parrots my actions, shifting forward into the bush as Itachi and Izumi screech at a boy (I believe he's Tenma, a teammate of Itachi) for accusing them of flirting. I don't want to let Shisui get off so easily, but I let it drop for his favor's sake. He never prodded, so I won't either. "Hell yeah. Ready?" Shisui smirks wickedly and nods. "Go!" I shout, jumping out of the bush with him. Itachi whirls around and flings a shuriken at my head that I dodge as I cup my hands in front of my mouth. "Itachi and Izumi sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G~!" Me and Shisui croon, making Itachi's face turn a bloody red hue as Izumi's entire body flames at our song. "First comes the love, then comes the marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage!"
Itachi doesn't talk to us for a week after that.
The leaves rustle quietly, gentle wind blowing through the camp. It's pitch black here on the border of Cloud and Fire country. The ground is rocky with small patches of grass, the night sky lighting up the trees to cast haunting shadows through the limbs of the trees, stars the lamp as our guide. "Ookami. We begin on your mark." The communicator whispers in my ear, the static crackling the voice of Yoji. I tap my transmitter, careful to avoid the dark, thorny branches of the thicket. This is my first real mission as an Anbu member. We're here to attack a group of Kumogakure shinobi travelling too close to the border. "Aa." I respond, drawing my entou-tachi, the iridescent purple-black blade glinting in the moonlight, it's grey and yellow hilt gripped in my hand. I eye the group of shinobi before me, the night guard of their encampment alert with a bow strapped on his back, his black and white uniform like an armadillo's shell wrapped around him. I grab the second blade, silently aiming as he stands at the cue of a branch snapping, his back turned to me. "Hikenjutsu: Tsukikage." I whisper, a thread of chakra lacing my feet as I charge at him in shunshin speeds. With a quick lateral cut at his abdomen, I whirl past him as his top separates from the bottom, intestines bursting out and lining my blade with foul-scented acid. I don't look back as Saru decapitates him for extra measure with a kunai through the throat.
The carnage begins.
I sheath my right blade, using Shisui's sleight of hand technique to pull out four kunai, thrusting them in a burst of speed and precision as they cut through the windpipes of the sleeping shinobi like a hot knife to butter. I hear the clang and screeching of metal as Yugao and Kakashi engage the enemy that were alerted in their sleep. I bite down a gasp as my knees drag me backwards on instinct, the blade of a Kumo-nin decapitating the air where my neck was as I flip backwards, raising my entou-tachi as the enraged shinobi charges me with a tanto. He bears down hard on me, bloodlust rolling off of him in waves with a crave for the vengeance of his fallen comrades. I grunt as his whole weight comes crashing down on my arm holding the sword. I reach back and draw my second blade, leaping back as his blade crashes into the ground where I once stood.
I take this moment to evaluate him, seeing his large, bulky build and meaty forearms beneath the baggy clothing, his dark skin and hair like a wraith in the night. He holds a blade very similar to the Kubikiribocho, a long sword with a thick blade. Suddenly, I hear Kakashi call out the Greand Fireball technique and I snap my gaze to the source of heat, jumping back before it becomes barreling our way, the both of us separating. "Hikenjutsu: Hazy Moon Night!" I shout, raising both of my blades in the air, crossed as they descend in milliseconds, afterimages in their wake as I dart forward, sharingan flickering to life as the world around me blurs, chakra thrumming in my veins as I focus solely on the target, a shuriken entering my view as I duck and launch myself forward. He doesn't get time to turn around as my swords pierce him together in the cetner of his abdomen and I slick them outwards, slicing his stomach open as he drops in two bits.
The battle is over.
All is silent as the blood runs off of our blades, dropping to the ground as the moon is shadowed. Yugao flicks her blade as I sheath my entou-tachi. "Are you alright?" She asks, her hand landing on my shoulder. I flinch and she immediately drops her hand. "... I'll be fine. It was us or them." I bite out harshly, but Yugao nods in understanding. Kakashi looks over at us, my pale mask glowing in the wake of embers leftover from the fire, the previously silent bell tied to the ear of my mask chiming in the breeze. I nod to him but he doesn't respond, giving me a long, hard look through the mask. "We'll go over your mental state at headquarters. Move out." He commands, and we all disappear into the night.
"Hana, I have things to do." Hana groans. "You always have something to do! You're a genin, for Pete's sake! Why are you so busy?"
I sigh.
"Hana, I'm in the middle of a session with Mikoto. Besides, I recieved a field promotion and upgraded to chunin." She gapes at me, her new, shiny headband shifting on her head. "What the hell?! And you didn't tell me?!" She chastises me and I groan as Mikoto returns, trying not to shift in the seiza position as she begins the rigorous tea ceremony. "I've been busy." Hana rolls her eyes at my excuse, openly wiggling uncomfortably on her shins in the formal position. Hana is a good friend, but she's costly to keep around. She loves finding me at the worst moments to pester me to hang out with her. "Would it make you feel better if I went out with you for ice cream or something next Sunday? As in the one after this one?" I ask her, graciously taking the hot tea from Mikoto with a deep bow, gracefully pulling the long, silky fabric of the ceremonial kimono back to take a sip, back poised just as I've been taught. Hana grins and nods vigorously. "That's good." She grins mischievously. "By the way, I saw you and Shisui walking together on Wednesday... sharing a popsicle... together." She croons, her fanged grin growing wider with my growing dismay. Mikoto perks up her head from the corner of my eye, but I pay it no heed, instead glaring at the three Haimaru brothers who wag their tails and snicker amongst each other. "Nothing's going on with us." I reply stiffly, trying my hardest not to chug down the scalding liquid to get my mind off of it. "Denial is the clincher! You like him, don't you?"
I try not to bash my head on the table or groan aloud, trying to focus on sitting still and looking pretty. "I'm five, Hana." I deadpan, ignoring the way her smile only grows wider. "Whatever. Age doesn't matter in the face of love!" She announces as I sigh, observing the way Mikoto's mouth twitches upwards in a smile. Hopefully, Hana wouldn't blab to the whole village about her epiphany.
And hopefully, Mikoto isn't getting any ideas.
I cough as he plants his fist in my stomach, the bitter taste of blood flooding my mouth as the red liquid splatters onto the floor and the chair. My head's ringing and my entire body stings and burns, my bones ache and everything around me feels dead. "Give us the coordinates." The man repeats, his light brown hair and green-hazel eyes boring into my own. The weight of chakra suppressants makes my skin feel like lead, my organs churning in grey slush in tandem with my muscles as I barely register the way he grabs the collar of my shirt, pain erupting in the back of my neck at the motion. Everything's bleary and grey, bleary and grey, bleary andd grey. Why am I here?
"Two, Eight, Six Six Seven Eight Six Five, Two, Eight, Six, Six Seven Eight Six Five..." I repeat, my tongue as heavy as an iron weight as my numb, formless lips form meaningless words. Words? Words mean sssssomething, bleary, grey, bleary... what do they mean? I repeat it over and over as the man lights the oil on my skin aflame, the living demon selfishly consuming and eating away at my arms, my shoulder, my face, like the flames of hell... The hell king. I remember, the word popping into my head like a break in the night, a shining beacon that awakes me from my delirium, the pain magnifying and becoming real again as I feel the flames burngingburningburningburninGBURNINGGURNINGBURNING-
All bow to the Hell King.
I find the chakra in my system, a deep, alien thread as revolting as mountains of corpses, festering with eyes and hearts and still beating hearts, and teeth, so many teeth-
"KAI!" I scream, ripping the parasite from my system, frigid air hitting my sweat-soaked skin. Tora rushes towards me, placing glowing green hands onto my skin to soothe the shock in my system, but I feel my chakra push and ebb against hers, it's memory fresh from the invasion. Inu walks towards me and places a hand on my shoulder, taking his mask off. I can't see his expression past the unfocused and doubled vision, but his hand pats me comfortingly on my shoulder ridge as the pounding in my ears settles, the unbearable heat from my sweat waning as Yugao gives up on healing me and instead brushes my body with a gentle wind-style jutsu. "Good job. You did well in the TRT." Kakashi tells me blandly as he stands back awkwardly, giving me my space. I don't respond, sitting up as Yugao places her hand between my shoulder blades and ushers a canister to my lips. I drink greedily, downing the cool liquid that contrasts the flames of my torture. It runs dry quickly and she takes it from me, leaving me on my own to sit up properly. I groan and roll my head, trying to get the heavy migraine to lessen. Suzume sighs and steps back, releasing his genjutsu handsigns. "You got through level nineteen. That's good enough, I guess." He offers, making Yugao roll her eyes. "She got through them lightning fast, that's enough to pass her immediately." She says, twirling the top onto the canteen as I stand, a little wobbly but I don't let them see it. "You're being assigned to Shisui Uchiha and Itachi Uchiha's training mission as a guard. Don't let them see or sense you." Kakashi says, handing me a mission scroll. I slide it open and glance over the contents, the gears in my head rolling. What happens here? I can't remember clearly... not good. Not good at all. I remember Anbu, Root, and that Shisui and Itachi are tracking someone... who? Why did those Root attack the Anbu? What happens afterwards? How does this affect Itachi? "They filed they'll be leaving for their training in a week. Prepare before Sunday."
"Hai, Taichou."
"I didn't picture you the type to eat jerky."
I hold back a groan as Shisui walks up to me, tossing the coins up to the counter as I purchase the packets of beef jerky. "I'm going on a mission." I tell him, passing the cashier the meat as he bags it up. I really don't need him near me- with Hana's teasing and my own, stupid teenage mind that doesn't match my age at all, dealing with him is not needed. He hums as I heft the bag of dried meat onto my shoulder, turning around and walking off to the convenience store. He follows me, tagging at my heel the whole while. "Why aren't you shopping in the district?" He inquires, eyeing the bags of staples and typical mission supplies, including water-purifying tablets. I glance at the village around us, tall building rectangular and square like an abstract painting around me as I am pricked by a small sense of nostalgia as I look at the Hokage monument. It was here when I realized I was in a new universe, isn't it? "I'm not wanted there." I respond, forcing my gaze away as I trudge on. Shisui picks up a bag that begins to slip off of my shoulder, giving me a nod as I smile a thanks to him. "But you live there, don't you?"
I go quiet. Shisui notices and frowns. "Hotarubi, where have you been living?" He prods, furrowing his eyebrows as I hurry ahead. I ignore his question, pursing my lips as I pry open the pawn shop door, the thin line of immaculate dust of the floor laying flat despite the miniature gale that enters with me. "Hotarubi, I'm being serious." He repeats, his voice growing deeper and losing it's playful undertone. I bite my top lip and gulp, reigning in my wavering resolve. "It's really none of your business." I just barely tap the cashier bell when Shisui drops my bag, gripping me on my shoulders whirls me around to face him. My hand that had flown to my kunai holster twitches and spams as I try not to stab him on reflex. "Hotarubi." All playful or bashful feelings are lost as he inches closer, concern and a bit of anger leaking into his face. "I get it if you don't want to tell me, but don't ever say it's none of my business." He growls, making my eyes flutter to the floor as I bite my lower lip in shame. I should have known he would take my words harshly. Guilt stabs at my heart, shame speckling my face red as I can't find it in myself to look Shisui in the eyes. "I... I've been living in the crypt... sometimes. Otherwise, I just... sleep in the park..."
I feel Shisui's grip become a little tighter. He opens his mouth to speak, but a loud groan shuts him off. "Ugh. Take your lover's spats outside. Don't need that disgusting crap in my shop." The mussy, brown-haired shop owner spits, making Shisui jump and let go of me as if he'd been burned. "You're not even ten." He states, his black-ringed eyes bore into me, disgust lacing his face. Not at me, but my situation. It's... refreshing. "What are they teaching kids these days?" He mumbles, dropping himself onto his abused leather chair that appears to barely maintain itself, only holding form due to the copious amounts of duct tape on it. I smile at the vague nostalgia, twiddling my fingers lightly as Shisui gives him an incredulous look.
I can only hold his curiosity off for so long.
The King of Hell awaits.
