Edited: 08/17/2018
And as the world
turns to twilight,
You bury
my memory.
(Unknown)
START
Chapter 3: Disgust
…
The wind blew through throngs of people as they cried. Tears falling shamelessly from their eyes like overcast rain-clouds. Amongst the mourning crowd stood a confused little girl, standing dutifully at her mothers side.
Both, like all of the others around, were dressed in black. It looked as if a giant squid left splashes of ink over the carefully managed grass. The pair stood the closest to a rectangular hole in the ground as a large box was placed on some metal contraption over the hole.
Her mother wore a dark lace veil that covered her tear-tracked face. Its a strange thing to wear, the girl thought. No one else was wearing one from what she could tell. Why was her mom?
As she pondered, her caramel eyes traveled across the rows of people around them. The barely contained sobs coming from the group, made up mostly of family and strangers, carried on the wind like a particularly sad symphony.
It was a sad day, after all. A day formally marking the end of someone's life.
The little girl pushed her chestnut brown hair behind her ear and looked up to her mother inquisitively. "Mommy?" she prodded, grabbing her mothers hand in her smaller one and tugging.
Her young mind couldn't comprehend why everyone was so sad. Why everyone was wearing black, standing around a hole to watch as a black lacquered box steady lowered into its muddy maw.
She knew inside of that box was her father. She had seen the same exact black box just before the long ride to the field filled with named stones. The only difference was that one side of the box had been open, showing the torso of a man she barely knew.
At first, she had thought her father to be sleeping. Her mom use to complain about how little sleep he got, thanks to his job; so maybe they bought him a special bed?
It didn't explain the people watching and crying, though. Nor the dozens of pictures of him or even the priest praying over his unconscious body—so sleeping was the only thing that made sense.
"Mommy," she tried again, tongue darting out nervously to lick her already chapped lips. "Why are they putting daddy in the ground?" her question was innocent in nature, but strangely enough, it made the people around cry harder. Her brows pulled together in another wave of confusion. Had she done something wrong again?
Her mother, beautiful and delicate in nature, kneeled beside her. Many times, she opened her mouth to speak; but none came out. Her hand fluttered over the child's chubby cheek, the touch reminding her of a butterfly. At least she stopped wringing her hands together, the girl thought.
Why couldn't someone just tell her what was happening? Already people had made great efforts not to look at her in the eyes. Instead, they would turn to her mother and say how sorry they were.
Whatever that meant.
"It… It's hard to explain, Jemma. You're too young to understand." Her mother murmured finally, voice cracking.
Tired of looking into the tear-filled hazel eyes of her mother, Jemma drew her attention back to the bed-box that her father slept in.
Something told her she was supposed to be sad. That the people around her expected her to have broken down and cried, screaming until nothing was left of her but shaking bones. Yet, she wasn't—she helped with gardening enough to guess what was going on. She was the smartest in her class, after all.
"How is it hard to explain? They are planting him, right? So he's going to become a plant—or a tree!" her brown eyes darted back to her mom, excitement making her smile brighten enough to eclipse the mourning around her.
Who wouldn't want to be a tree? Her teacher said they filter the air everyone breathes. How cool was that?
A slow breath left her mother. The older woman's touch firmed as it began running through her only child's hair.
"…Yes, baby. Daddy's time here as a human is over but… He'll grow into a beautiful tree. A tree so big: his roots will reach the heart of the earth and join with every other tree on the planet. That way, no matter where you go, he will always be there." The older woman wrapped her arms around her daughter in a tight embrace. "He will watch over you. Be there to shield you from all of your fears. Sleeping and awake."
It was years later—when Jemma grew older—that she learned the truth. From then on, she decided she did not particularly enjoy funerals.
"Pookah come back!"
Dead grass crunched under Jemma's sneaker clad feet as she ran: breath heavy and lungs screaming. She knew nothing good would have come from going to a dog park. What teenager in their right mind even left the house? Surely there wasn't anything too great about the outdoors. Like studying for her bio test tomorrow.
Yet, there she was; forced by her mother to take Pookah on 'field trip' so she could 'be social.'
The two year-old Pomeranian had taken off as soon as Jemma had let her guard down to send her best friend, Marcy, a text. Her hold hadn't been the strongest to begin with and, with only one tenth of her mind on him, the little rat yanked his leash from her lax fingertips and booked it.
Her heart rose to her throat when Pookah made to dash out in the middle of the busy street—but before her faithful rat could make it, a man ran up and scooped the small, white fuzz-ball into his arms.
Seeing this, Jemma let out a cry of joy. Her dog was safe—and she could finally stop running!
Out of breath, the brunette bent over, signaling the man with a finger to give her a moment. It wasn't like she was overweight or anything. Sure, she was substantially squishy in places—but not in an unhealthy way!
Not overweight, just, you know—out of shape.
"Wow. How long have you been running?" the man asked with a hint of mirth in his deep voice.
Well she definitely wasn't going to tell him—or anyone—the truth. "Two…" a huff, "Miles…." She breathed in and out a few more times before finally straightening up with what she prayed was a thankful smile (it was more of a grimace).
Her face promptly turned beat red.
He was so Hot.
After a moment of staring like some sort of nutcase, Jemma blurted out, "T-thank you so much for grabbing him!"
The smile he sent her made her knees feel like jelly. Amusement sparkled in his light gray eyes, "Always a privilege to help a pretty girl out."
Jemma's heart pumped hard and fast. She bit her lip in an attempt to hide the smile that threatened to split her face in two. It had been a while since someone had treated her so nice, less so called her pretty. And he was a stranger! A very attractive one, too.
"U-um… My Jemma name is… Wait." She wanted to kick herself. Had she forgotten how to speak!? "My name is Jemma!" was her hurried correction.
The stranger laughed outright, showing off pearly white teeth. Pookah barked, wiggling around in the man's arms. "Here… I think this is yours…" he took a step closer, intent on giving the dog back to its rightful owner. Jemma took the ball of fluff and fury, a dreamy smile on her face.
Their hands brushed and for a moment and she found herself suspended in the moment. It was perfect. A new feeling swelled in her chest, flickering and combusting into a roaring inferno.
"My hero." She crooned, a smirk rising on one side of her lips.
Too soon he pulled away, taking with him the smell of leather and probably some super expensive cologne. The stranger letting out a chuckle. His large hand brushed his inky black hair back into its brushed-back position.
"My name's Samuel."
Maybe outside wasn't as bad as she had thought.
Akira ran away from Itachi, cackling like a maniac who broke out of a mental institute. It was a bright, sunny and clear day—not a single cloud in sight. Many people were out, embracing the warmth after the chilling winter Konoha recently experienced.
The wind carried a cool, lazy breeze, and with it, the scent of flowers and cut grass. It was just what she had needed. Fresh air. Being cooped up in the house had almost driven her (completely) insane.
"All of your smarts are worth nothing if you can't run fast enough, Tachi." Akira teased, turning her head back long enough to stick her tongue out at her silently fuming best friend.
These were the kind of days she loved.
Papa and his team were off for three more days since they recently got back from a taxing mission. It must have been really bad, too. Her Papa's normally bright blue eyes were clouded with some emotion that was a foreign sight on the usually joyful blonde man's face.
He put up a good front when facing other people, but the reincarnated woman knew something was bothering him deeply. Her answer? Make his heart melt by the combination of hers and Itachi's overwhelming cuteness. It was also to help her mother, too.
Every time Papa left for an extended amount of time, her mother became a stressed squirrel. So much so, it made her go into an infamous 'super-cook-mode'.
The outcome was tons of extra (delicious) food the three strong family had no way of eating on their own. So, they came up with the idea to get rid of it by having a picnic. What better way to make food disappear than to have two teenage boys around?
A great idea, if she did say so herself. Anything that had to do with food and being surrounded by her favorite people was always a great idea.
She was so excited with the prospects of a picnic; Akira had run to Itachi's house in order to invite him along. Her best friend agreed automatically and told his mother where they were going.
It was probably a decision Itachi was regretting as of that moment as Akira expertly stayed just out of his reach, his last stick of dango in hand. As extra incentive, she haphazardly swung her arms in an attempt to make him nervous. How terrible would it be to do so much chasing only for the delicious treat to fall victim to the grass?
Being the faster of the two, Akira took advantage of it as much as she could. She giggled, peaking over her shoulder for the millionth time to look at the overly determined face of Itachi.
He was just so adorable when he made that expression!
"Come on, Tachi-kun, you gotta try harder than tha-AHH!" Her foot caught on a protruding rock (that looked suspiciously dog shaped—that thrice damned Kakashi) sending the eccentric child face first into the grass with a loud oof.
On her way down to the unforgiving ground, a sharp intake of air echoed from behind, coming from the black haired prodigy, and the dango disappeared from her hand in a speeding blur.
Moaning, Akira sat up, spitting grass out of her mouth. "Bleh!" her spine cracked as she turned to her 'best friend', violet eyes narrowed, promising pain. He stood at a safe distance, casually munching on his saved treat.
"What kind of person allows their friends to eat dirt?" She spoke, voice deceptively calm.
His gaze was serious, no hint of regret in those ebony depths. If anything, he looked amused. "You took my food." He replied with a shrug.
Akira huffed in irritation, wiping the rest of the dirt from her chubby cheeks before turning her blazing gaze Kakashi. "You'll pay for that."
The silver-haired teen looked back to her with heavy-lidded dark gray eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about." He turned, mumbling something that sounded along the lines of "I'm already paying for it."
"Oh you know very well what! That cute puppy rock didn't just appear out of nowhere." The reincarnation accused, pointing to him.
Rin, who sat between Kakashi and Obito, waved her hands dramatically in an effort to calm the upcoming tantrum. "I'm sure Kakashi-kun didn't do anything Akira-chan."
Obito gaped at his female teammate. "Yeah right. I'm with Akira-chan on this one. Kakashi's a bastard-OW!" a hand came out from seemingly nowhere and karate chopped onto the top of the Uchiha's head. "What the hell was that for?"
Attached to the hand was an angry redhead, tendrils of fiery hair swimming above her head like tentacles. "Watch your language around the children!" Kushina yelled back, hitting him on the head again as if the action would make her words stick by sheer force of will.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Have mercy!" Obito yowled out, pain filled tears leaking from the sides of his eyes.
Akira ran up to them with a wounded expression, not liking that someone else was picking on her nii-chan. She plopped into his lap, wrapping her arms protectively around his neck. "Don't hurt Obito-nii-chan, mom! You'll make him lose even more brain cells! It's not his fault he's an idiot…"
"Hey!"
"Shh," her tiny hand reached up to rub circles on his face, "You just need to accept it."
His shoulders slumped, dejected.
I hummed happily to myself as I walked along the streets of Konoha. Alone. If I tried not to think about how close I was to the ground, I could almost convince myself I was an adult again! Oh the freedom~
After what felt like hours, I had somehow convinced my parents to allow me to walk to Itachi's house by my lonesome. The freedom I felt was, well, freeing.
Since I had been attacked all of those months ago—was it really almost a year ago?—they never let me go anywhere by myself. I was convinced they stood outside of the goddamn bathroom. Whenever I opened the door no one would be there, but the feeling was still haunted me. It made pooping extremely awkward.
What's even worse was sometimes they would hire genin to take me places—it was ridiculous. There were tons of children my age that could run around the village to their hearts content during the day.
Papa and mom were very overprotective, even if there was a war going on. They stuck to me like glue, so I wasn't going to let this rare moment of beautiful independence slip away from me without milking it until it mooed.
The village was bustling and alive in a combination of smells and sounds. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the exotic scents of my home. They never got old. Frying meat from a food stand, sweet herbs from a tea shop and fresh breads from a bakery. It was addicting how good everything smelt.
As I was about to pass the bakery, I slowed my pace. Hmm… Since this is my first time out alone, I should get a victory snack to celebrate. Obviously.
I walked in and stared at the assortments of baked breads, sweet rolls and desserts. Mouth instantaneously watering, I pulled out my pocket purse (it was gray with cute chibi kitties on it—my birthday gift from Obito) and counted my small amount of money.
Instantly I slumped.
There was only enough for three things, four if I settled for the cheaper snacks.
"Hello, little girl. What brings you here?"
What else would I be in here for? Don't roll your eyes, self. You don't want the villagers hating you. An idea came to me. A completely devious idea. My kind of idea.
I smiled despite my inner monologue, "To celebrate!" I exclaimed, voice baby-like and high, putting on my biggest, brightest smile. The one I normally save for Papa when I wanted something.
The man, tall and muscular with graying hair and a mustache, bellowed out a laugh. "And what is it you're celebrating?"
I raised a fist in the air and pumped it, "Freedom, my good sir!"
"Oh?"
"Mm! My Papa let me walk to my best-est friend in the whole wide world's house all by myself." I crossed my arms and did my best to look proud. Which, how I felt, wasn't that hard.
Papa was an Unmovable Force when he really wanted to be.
"Well that's reason to celebrate in my eyes. Tell me, what would you like? I'll even give you a little discount." He winked.
I mentally smirked, glad my little ruse worked. Now I could get five.
As I went back on my way, I allowed a moment to laugh evilly to myself.
Today the bakery; tomorrow the world.
The paper bag of goods I walked away from the establishment with was totally worth acting like a complete dolt. If this was how it would be every time I was able to walk alone, I might as well begin carrying around props to make myself seem even more unassuming.
Imagine all of the things I could get for free holding a giant plushy?
Up ahead I couldn't help but notice three kids glaring my way as they pushed themselves off a store wall. Man, those were some nasty looks on their faces. They spoke lowly to each other as they walked in my direction, eyes staring a hole through my little form. From this distance, they looked to be around eleven or twelve.
It made me hesitate for only a millisecond before continuing on my way. They didn't scare me one bit. In all honesty, nothing did. It made things boring at times. Sure, there were times I could feel true terror, like when I was attacked, but these punks were nothing compared to that.
—Blood—smile stretched—blank eyes—
I shook my head. That time had passed. I needed to focus on the now.
These kids made me feel uncomfortable. As if there were unseen hands grasping painful, sharp claws into my shoulders and pushing me down, down, down—Ugh! So what if they were taller and (undoubtedly) stronger? Nothing would ruin this day for me, god dammit! Their malicious intent meant nothing to me.
The chances of being murdered with shinobi jumping all around on their squirrely business was very slim. Even if the elder ninja looked to be going on their way single minded, I knew they were always alert to their surroundings. I lived with the damn Yellow Flash!
As if sensing the hostility, on-goers parted like the Red Sea. Sickeningly, some paused, eyes curious and hungry to know what was going on. I didn't even know what was going on. A few had a glint in their eye, as if they wanted nothing more than to see me smeared across the dusty ground.
It disgusted me.
As I went to pass the children, the nearest boy, obviously an Uchiha with his black hair and eyes, bumped a sharp shoulder harshly into me, sending me to the ground.
During my fall, I made extra sure to protect The Goods. Half-priced sweets were hard to come by in this world, what with the prices of sugar being so high.
When Papa became Hokage, I'd have to convince him to find a place who dealt with flour to start trade with. Since it was such a combustible substance, most businesses refused to trade it over long distances without shinobi around to protect them—and ninja protection was costly.
"Watch where you're going, twerp." The boy hissed; a shit-eating grin on his otherwise cute face. Sigh. Leave it to the cute ones to be rotten on the inside.
I looked up to him in barely concealed distaste. The way he was—literally—looking down on me made me want to gouge his pretty eyes out. They were like Itachi's, yet lacked the intelligence and warmth.
"You're the one that bumped into me, ya fungus." I shot back from my spot on the ground. What were these kids' issues?... Other than King Douche being an Uchiha.
The other two, one a girl and another boy, circled around. Taking a deep breath, I slowly stood, head turning in an attempt to follow all of their movements.
Great. I'm not even in the academy yet and I am being bullied.
That thought gave me pause. Wait-a-minute. Did I want to go to the academy? To become a ninja of the Leaf—willing to lay down my life in order to protect it? I mean, I always assumed I would be a ninja, but didn't I have a choice?
I never held the village in high regards, after all. In both reality and whilst watching the anime. In the show, they treated Naruto—my future baby brother—like complete trash. They made him feel unwanted. Like a monster.
He needed to be strong in order to gain their love and attention. Hell, some of the people in the place physically hurt him.
An innocent child. (theyneedtodietheyneedtodie).
On the other hand, my father was going to be the future fuckin' Hokage; no matter how brief. The village was a place he loved enough to die for. Shouldn't that be enough to warrant my own devotion? To spark some sort of burning desire to defend the place my current body was born to?
It was definitely something to bookmark for a later date.
A force shoved me forward, electing a squawk of surprise from me—embarrassing. Lost in thought, I had forgotten about the bullying assholes. I really needed to work on my situational awareness…
They laughed as one as I stumbled to my hands and knees. The bag fell to the ground, caged carefully between my limbs.
Anger burned away the stinging pain in my scratched palms. I got those at a discount! And for what reason? Because I had been there? Why was no one helping me? They were double my age—someone should be saving me. (killthemkillthem).
The original offender spoke up voice nasally, "Pathetic. I don't see what he sees in a wimp like you."
"Yeah. She's not even pretty."
"Pretty ugly if you ask me. Just look at those weird marks on her face!"
Taking a deep breath, I stood again, straightened up and turning to the girl. I snuffed out the igniting match striking in my belly. Shame, anger—what was wrong with my whisker marks? I thought they were cute. Especially when I'd have a little brother with the same marks!
One hand held tight to my precious, the other found purchase on my hip. I flipped my hair away from my face. "If you think calling me ugly and a wimp will send me home crying, you got another thing coming, girlfriend."
The girl had brown eyes and black hair, similar to the second boy. Related, if I had to guess. There was no distinguishing who was older, but they definitely had the same parents. My own eyes narrowed at the familiar crest on all three of their shirts.
Uchiha.
Around us, most of those who paused shuffled along on. Others outright watched. Again, why would I want to save a place that treated each other like this? Here I was, a child, being bullied and they just stood there and stared. Like vultures waiting for the remains of a bunny torn apart by wolves.
"We don't care if you're crying or not, so long as you stay away from Itachi-sama." One of the siblings growled. It was hard to tell which voice came from whom. They both sounded like prepubescent little boys.
"I bet he only hangs around her because she's so stupid."
"You don't deserve to be around someone as prestigious as Itachi-sama."
At the second mention of my besties name, my hackles raised. So, that was who the 'he' was. I was being bullied over being a clan heir's (best) friend. Perfect.
The thing, though, was they were right. I wasn't worthy of being the clan heir's friend. He was strong, noble and kind while I was a child killer. A body snatcher. (Ishouldn'texist).
A sad smile raised on my lips. "I agree. I don't deserve his friendship." My words shocked the three stooges. It was true. Itachi was too nice, too pure—but… My saddened expression morphed into a cocky smile that wouldn't reach my eyes. "He chose me to stand beside him. Moreover, until he tells me different, that's where I will stay.
Now. Get the hell out of my way. You've made me late enough as is."
"You- Grab her arms!"
They came onto me as a group. I tried getting away, pushing and kicking against their grabbing hands.
It was all in vain. They were bigger, stronger, faster. I tossed the bag to the side, hoping they wouldn't take too much notice of it and crush it in spite.
After a short scuffle, the siblings held my arms, one on each side, forcing me down to my knees.
"We'll teach you your place, clanless scum!" The black haired boy shouted with a reddened face.
The first hit was a kick to my stomach. It made me gag and shout out in pain, something I hadn't known I was capable of doing. Somehow, I kept down the vomit that tried forcing itself up.
They all laughed when the boy next landed a solid punched my face. If I were in my old body, I was sure my cheekbone would have fractured in a million bone-shards.
It was then I realized how much Itachi had been holding back our first meeting. He had made me bleed, but it was in retaliation, not malice. There was also the fact this boy was older, thus bigger. He hit hard. Stars spun in my eyes.
Yet I refused to cry, even with the tears already burning behind my eyes. I put all of my pain and hate and manifested it into the most fierce glare possible, pointed to King Douche. I wished it would light him on fire or poison him via osmosis.
I wished they would drop dead.
"Hey!" a high voice called out, making the bullies pause.
Three figures dropped from a nearby roof as one unit. As if he were an angel from the heavens, Obito took a threatening step forward, fist clenched—the oppressive rage came out of me like a fresh breath of air.
I could've sworn he had a halo.
"How about you pick on someone your own size!" The Uchiha D-Bag Squad (UDB Squad?) collectively flinched.
"Um," Rin spoke up, waving her hands as she normally did when trying to be annoying—I mean—defuse the situation, "let's not resort to violence… Please let her go. We don't want any trouble-"
"Are you kidding!?" I barked, voice bordering on mocking, "'let's not resort to violence'—There already is violence! They were hitting me! Kick their asses!"
Only Kakashi spared a look my way, eyebrow cocked inquisitively. As if I needed him judging me for using 'grown-up' words.
"We don't have to listen to you!" the male sibling scoffed.
"Yeah. You're just a weak girl playing dress up." The head-douche commented nastily.
I shrugged, kind of agreeing with the D-Squad.
What!? It wasn't like he was wrong. Rin wasn't anything special. The only thing she had going for her was her slightly more advanced medical abilities and strong teammates. Other than that, she was an average fighter and her clones were sub-par.
How she passed the final academy test was something that astounded me.
The siblings let go of me, but not without shoving me to the ground one last time. My hands, again, scraped against the gravel, digging pebbles further into the softness of my palms.
"Seriously!?"
"That's it!" Yes. Avenge me, Obito-nii-chan! "You say sorry to Rin-chan right now!" The elder Uchiha yelled, voice echoing against the surrounding walls.
I slapped my forehead.
"Or what?" the three of them said as one.
Obito crossed his arms and smirked. "Or I'll tell all of your parents what you were doing. Do ya think they'll be happy to hear you were picking on a toddler?"
Oh. Well. It was nice to know he hadn't forgotten about it. He was just ignoring the original issue!
And that was how the next few minutes were spent, with the UDB Squad apologizing to Rin and groveling at her feet. They even went as far as to bow to the girl.
I stood off to the side with Kakashi, not so silently brewing in anger. "What the hell? I was the one bullied. They should be kissing my feet." As I spoke, my hands burned painfully, my stomach felt two minutes from exploding from my mouth like a geyser, and my cheek throbbed. There would definitely be a lot of bruising.
By this time tomorrow, I'd look like an abused apple.
Ugh. I hate preteens.
The silver-haired ninja let out a sigh, shoulders lifting in a small shrug. "He's a short-sighted idiot. What else would you expect?" he glanced down at me with understanding that lasted for a moment before it turned concerned (as concerned as Kakashi could look, at least). "You're hurt."
I gave him a nasty look. "Wow, aren't you just the most observant doofus on your team. Heal me now or I'll tell my mommy that you did it."
Kakashi noticeably paled. "Hey Rin? Akira has some scrapes and bruises you should check out." His voice came out higher than normal and cracked, making him clear his throat at the end of his plea. Ah, the beauty of having a terrifying mother.
As soon as the words were stated, said girl gasped and quickly made her way to me, worry in her doe brown eyes.
Wait is that a—I didn't see her walk up to me, my mind was much too interested with how different Kakashi looked blushing. It was like a car crash, man. I couldn't look away. It was such an innocent thing, really. The way dilated blood vessels on someone's face reacting to excess adrenaline being pumped through them.
"Let me see."
I extended my hands blindly. Facial vessels were especially sensitive, which was why a persons entire body doesn't turn red (imagine how funny that would look). When antiseptic was placed on the cuts I cringed.
The pain took me out of whatever trance I had been in, making me turn a glare to the dead-weight of team eight. Hm. That rhymed. Maybe I would start calling her DW? Heh…
"Ow, ow ow, OWWW." I wined, electing a stern glance from the medic.
Honestly, it didn't hurt that bad—I've felt worse. Just stung a bit. But in my younger mind, she took the spotlight of Obito's attention away from me, so it was well deserved.
If it wasn't obvious as of yet, I didn't much care for the girl. The quicker she died, the happier I would be. That means Obito would have to be taken away sooner. I pushed that thought aside violently. To the box.
"I'll heal you fully later. We need to get you to Itachi-kun's house and debrief Minato-sensei so we can go on our next mission." She said, finishing wrapping up the bandages on my hands.
Should have known Papa wouldn't let me do something on my own. I sneered, nodding my head and testing how much I could move my hands. A bit stiff but not too bad. The bandages were actually rather soft.
Of course they wouldn't trust me enough to go on my own.
.
.
.
"What happened to you?" Were Itachi's blurted first words to me when he answered the door.
I was too busy staring a hole into the back of a certain silver-haired ass-wipes head. It wasn't a mean stare, just curious.
"Hello to you too, 'Tachi. I'm doing fine, how about you?" I teased lightly, trying to get his attention off my battle wounds (as if being bullied was a battle. It was totally one sided and shitty; no matter how optimistically I looked at it).
Man, what was up with me earlier, looking at someone like Bakashi so intently? Sure, it was the first time I had seen him blush, but was it really that big of a deal? The answer?
Fuck nah.
So what if it was akin to seeing a damn unicorn? A becoming change to his usual stoic, bored expressions. But what if he had seen me gaping at him like some idiot?
With a shake of my head, I turned to regard Itachi fully. Carefully. As I would a ticking time bomb.
He stared at me blankly in the way he knew would make me uncomfortable. All vacant and weird. He looked so much like one of those porcelain dolls my old mother use to collect. I shivered. Creepy.
They always gave me a distinct Annabelle vibe. Enough to keep me awake most nights, especially after watching the move.
My will to keep my lips sealed crumbled under his intense gaze. "Fine. Some Uchiha brats pushed me around a bit. It's no big deal. Really." Just drop it, I pleaded silently.
Embarrassment flooded my face red while I kicked at the ground lamely, knocking a small rock with the tip of my sandal. (I wondered absently if I looked anything like Kakashi had). Admitting to being picked on was so lame. I should have been able to fight back! Kick that black haired jerk on his ass and laugh. My fists clenched.
"They hurt you. Why?" It was more of an order than a question.
I scoffed, "Because I'm your friend or whatever. Apparently, being from a dead clan and befriending a clan heir isn't looked upon in the greatest light. It's fine, though. Just a little bruised and some scrapes—nothing serious."
Although I was in the world of an anime, I was in one where the universe was completely unfair. Here, just because someone picked on me didn't mean I could somehow turn into my mother and kick their asses. I was basically a baby at this point. I felt like Cas with no powers.
Don't get me wrong, I 'trained' with Itachi, hell I even excelled in a couple areas, but those kids were just too big and experienced. This body was strong, as were the others of this world, yet not enough to fight someone that much bigger than me. I was just too tiny. Too untrained in fighting a larger target.
Ever see a weak five-year-old kick a group of trained twelve year olds asses? Nope.
At an even earlier age, Itachi had already killed. Though I was older physically (and mentally, in ways), he was just too advanced. Compared to everyone around me, I was the odd one out. Practically civilian.
What if he realized this and became ashamed of our friendship? Did he think I was weak? Or, even worse, did he think he was too good for me? That thought alone sent a shock of fear zipping through me.
He was my only friend. If I didn't have him, I would be alone.
I looked up, anxious when moments passed with him saying nothing—immediately I took a faltering step back. Itachi's normally serene face was twisted in what I could only discern as complete fury. In his deep onyx eyes laid the promise of swift, righteous, pain.
"Who?" his voice was deeper than what was normal for him. A strange feeling slithered its way up my chest and settled.
Mentally, I stumbled.
Had any of them mentioned their names? I shook my head, "They never said. Just a group made up of some black haired Ki- er, douche and two siblings; one boy and one girl. Both had brown hair."
After a slight nod, the expression of anger evaporated, making my apprehensive spine loosen a bit. I scratched the back of my head. "Geeze, 'Tachi. Have you been tested for being bi-polar?"
"No." was his simple answer. He pointed to the slightly crumpled bag held in my hands. "What is that?"
A sly smile spread over my face as the tense moment fully evaporated. I hadn't even noticed when team 8 ran off to debrief, but they were nowhere to be seen. I opened the bad and stuck my hand in, pulling out and showing off five sticks of dango like a magician pulling a bunny out of his hat. "A feast!"
Itachi's returning small smile and fond expression made any pain I had from getting my ass thoroughly kicked disappear like magic.
Weeks passed when mom and Papa sat me down at the dining table.
It was a normal day, much like all of the others. Being a child sucked that way. Nothing exciting ever really happened. Unless I went over Itachi's or spent time with team Papa, my days were monotonous. The second I tried to avoid. Partially because I wanted to pop out Rin's doe brown eyes—which was normal. The other reason was, you guessed it, Bakashi.
Ever since 'that day' I had actively began staring at him. Like some crazy stalker. It had started as distracted glances and blown up into outright fixing my eyeballs on him.
Just thinking of how pathetic I was being made me want to cringe into another world. If anyone else noticed, they were nice enough to leave it be. For now.
Get your head together! I snapped back into myself with a start (that was becoming a normal occurrence). Childish crushes could wait until later.
Both parental's matching serious expressions were on me. Every now and then, their eyes shifted to each other, then back. Neither looked upset, per-say, so I wasn't in court to plea my case. Yet, they wouldn't speak up. It was getting increasingly annoying.
As if sensing my impatience, Papa broke the tense silence, slowly, cautiously… Suspiciously. "You're five years old now."
I raised my eyebrows. Not what I was expecting. "Yep. I'm well aware." The p popped.
He backtracked, "I- I mean—You are five years old now—and very um… Mature for your age…" dad trailed off, diverting his eyes to the floor as if it would either swallow him whole or speak for him. Couldn't tell which.
Regardless, my eyebrows raised higher. At this rate, the blonde bundle of hairs would reach the gods. I was mature? What was this? What direction was he trying to bring this conversation?
I swear on all that is holy—If I heard the word 'vagina' or 'penis' I was fuckin' out.
Out of the room, out of this village, out of this life.
The last thing I wanted was my achingly awkward Papa and blushing mom explaining the concept of sex to me. I'd die of second-hand embarrassment! My face would never revert to its original coloring, forever stained like a firetruck.
Ah, blushing—No, stop.
"What your father is trying to say," Mom swooped in helpfully, placing a hand on Papa's slumped shoulders, "—is that you are becoming more and more independent. We think it is about time to stop… well, babying you. You have proved to us that you are more than able to go off on your own. So…"
"We are going on a two day mission!" Papa exclaimed suddenly with an intense, wild look in his sky blue eyes. The abrupt disruption made me jump.
T-the fuck? God, these people were so damn weird… Wait. "You're going to let your five year old fend for herself for two days?" I asked with no infliction in my tone.
Mom's cheeks flushed (I'm not thinking about it, I swear). "Um, no."
I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness." For a moment there, I thought they were going to make a complete 180 and become terrible parents. Glad my fears weren't founded.
Papa spoke up next, this time more poised. "Mikoto-san has agreed to let you stay at their house while we are gone—"
I interrupted, hand slamming on the table. "WOO, PARTY!" My body, overcome with resonating excitement, shook. To expel some of the energy, I began dancing in my chair. I swear I saw stars and flowers spinning around my head from the corner of my eyes.
This would be my very first sleep over ever. And, even better, it is with Itachi. Two whole days with one of my favorite pretty-boys? It was going to be so much fun! I wanted to yodel to the sky.
"NO!" The sky crashed around me, "We expect you to be on your best behavior. When Mikoto-san or Fugaku-san tell you to do something, you do it. Without any sass." Mom added in the last part hastily.
I waved my hand flippantly, "Listen to Gaku-sama and no sass, gottcha. Hear ya loud and clear."
Mom sent me a look of disappointment. "I'm being serious, Akira. The Uchiha have been very generous allowing you stay so long."
I paused mid victory dance and give her and Papa a reassuring smile. "I'll behave myself, I swear. I'm just really excited to have a slumber party with Itachi, ya'know."
They smiled back. Papa walked over to me and collected me in his arms bawling about how I was growing up too fast and how he would have to bat away boys with kunai.
Internally I thought of all the ways I could make Gaku-sama uncomfortable… Yes…this would be great.
000
I walked up to the Uchiha household with extra pep to my step. My sharp movements caused the dangle kitty chain decorations on my backpack to click together. Mom, as usual, was fretting behind me.
"Did you remember your toothbrush?"
"For the hundredth time, yes." I was exhausted with the ongoing conversation. Mom and Papa had made quite the spectacle this morning. At first, it had been adorable. Nice. Not many kids had the privilege of having even one parent care enough to cause such a scene.
As a matter of fact, I had come to find out a lot, if not most, children in the village resided in the orphanage. It made since, I guessed. We lived in a village where ninja, while the minority, had kids at earlier ages. Add that to the hundreds dying from war-times and well… Too many people were dying. It just so happened that the dead left children.
All of that said; mom was coming off as completely overbearing. It made my inner adult want to pull her hair out and scream. The only thing that stopped me was the fact I wasn't an adult anymore and that type of behavior would get me into some serious trouble. Hell hath no fury like a mom sassed. Think not leaving the house for months with no toys. I was a kid now and would just have to deal with it.
My footsteps hurried as we walked around the last corner to make it to the Uchiha's. "Were almost there, come on!"
Mom chuckled as I turned to grab her hand and pull her along behind me.
…
END
A/N: Welp. Originally I was going to just brush over Akira's childhood, hitting only at the main points buuuuut decided it would be best for the story to actually explain it. Which means I've had to add to my already lengthy intro to the character by showing her interactions with other characters, blah blah blah. So there are a few more scenes before we get into the good (painful) stuff. AND bc I'm extra lazy, there is only a poem instead of song.
Which do you guys like more? The song lyrics through the chapter, or poem/lyrics at the beginning only?
As always, please review (helps me get these out faster) to feed my lil ego, fav to make me feel better and follow to get emails when I update this fic!
Have a lovely weekend. -3-