Published: 7/15/2014
Edited: 10/20/2014 for a title change again. Back to the original.
Age 5: Part 4
"You were doing what?!"
"Eep! It's not that big a deal, is it, Auntie? I mean, I had already determined that it wasn't dangerous for me to use chakra—"
"Suzu, you're fighting a losing battle. Take it from someone who knows... you're not getting out of this."
"Something's got you in a good mood, kid," Itsuki observed.
Straight after school had let out, I had gone skipping to Itsuki's fruit store, still giddy with the discovery that I wouldn't have to wait half a decade to start using chakra. Of course, I refrained from telling anyone that I was going to try it—that was a great way to get into heaps of trouble—but I was itching to start experimenting.
"Yup," I agreed, grinning but giving no context.
Itsuki raised an eyebrow. I gave him my best mysterious look.
"Well, come on in," he shrugged after a moment, making a summoning motion with his hand and turning to go indoors. I followed after him, trying to control my beaming. Itsuki already had tea and dango laid out on the counter; I was practically bouncing as we settled in to chat.
Now, let it never be said that Itsuki was stupid. I have never met a more intelligent—and manipulative—nineteen-year-old in my life. As soon as I'd sat down he'd launched into a narrative of his first C-rank mission and how it had gone horrendously wrong, handily enthralling me with every little action-filled detail. When he'd finished that story, he jumped right into the next, and the next, and the next... We were already an hour in a half into the visit before I realized that he had told me nothing whatsoever of his "retirement"; it was five minutes before I had to go when I realized I'd been duped.
"You did that on purpose!" I exclaimed, not quite angrily, but still very irritatedly. "That's dirty, you jerk!"
"Please, kid," Itsuki snorted, waving his bare dango stick at me and looking rather unimpressed. "If you're going to be a ninja, you'll have to do better than that."
"I'm five!" I protested, scowling heavily. "That's not fair! You can't just take advantage of me like —"
"But I can," the teen cut in sharply, expression going dark. "And so will others, and for crueler reasons than this. There is no such thing as fair play, Suzu Namikaze."
I flinched, feeling myself go wide-eyed. Itsuki's hazel eyes were a mix of swirling emotion, angry and sad and icy… and scary.
"But you—" I began weakly, taken very much off-guard by his unprecedented attitude change. What was up with him all of a sudden?
"I'm not just going to up give you the most painful story of my life just because you hit your head on a box of lychee," Itsuki informed coldly, crossing his arms and sitting back against the wall, mouth set in a hard line. "You have earn the privilege to hear that story."
If I hadn't been so shocked, I might have cried. This man was totally different from the one I had met yesterday, the one who had smiled at me and bandaged my head and laughed with me over sweets. This man was frigid and unsympathetic, severe and hard-hearted.
"I-I," I stuttered feebly, utterly at a loss for words.
Itsuki crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, expression never softening, amity never returning. No, I thought, that wasn't Itsuki. That was a stranger.
I swallowed.
"I—I should go now," I finally managed, quickly sliding off my stool and setting my tea cup on it. The man called Mikawaya only continued to stare at me dispassionately; I hesitated only a second longer before bolting away, feeling my eyes begin to burn.
It was a while before I realized that his hands had been shaking when I'd left.
I have never been good at processing negative emotions. Dealing with rejection was probably the field in which I was poorest, and it showed; as soon as I'd reached a deserted park across the market district, having run a full five minutes without stopping, I'd promptly sat down on a swing and burst out crying.
It took me a good twenty minutes to just chill out and begin thinking something beyond why did he do that that was horrible and he's right why would he tell me how could I assume and I'm such an asshole he hates me. After that, though, I did what I did best and shoved the whole affair out of my mind. I was a champion when it came to avoiding my problems, after all; finding distractions was one of my great talents. And as it so happened, I had the perfect puzzle to take my mind off of things—people spent lifetimes studying chakra, after all.
The House, I knew, would be a horrible location for practicing chakra—at least for now—because there were too many distractions and the chances of getting caught were astronomically high. I couldn't go back yet if I wanted to give it a try today. After inspecting the area for a few minutes, though, I realized this park would a great place for it: There was no one here except for a lone pair of siblings dangling on the monkey bars a few ways away, and even if they noticed me, which was rather doubtful, they wouldn't be able to tell what I was doing.
I nodded, course of action decided. I stood up and reached for one of the swing set's supporting bars, grasping it and pulling myself up to the top. Once I scooted into position, I slowly stood up on the top bar and took a deep breath before jumping at the tree just beyond, where I caught a branch and hauled myself up.
Ah, ninja blood. The climbing gene must be genetic, because if I had done that back home, I'd have probably broken my neck.
I climbed a bit higher to hide myself and found a nice forked branch to settle in. Lying back against three crossing limbs, I wedged my sandal's sole in where the bough split and made sure that I would be secure. Once I was sure I wouldn't fall if I passed out, I relaxed my muscles and set to contemplating how to mold chakra.
Alright, what did I know? Chakra was the fuel for ninja techniques. It had its own circulatory system that moved in a spiral. It was originally intended to allow people to connect to others' spiritual energy, but people used it connect to themselves so they could use ninjutsu. To make it, I needed to mix physical and spiritual energy…
"Better start simple," I muttered, plucking a leaf off of the branch near my head. I vaguely recalled the fact that the feet were one of the hardest places to put out chakra, so the tree walking exercise was right out, but leaf sticking was something I knew Academy students did. That made sense, though; if chakra was hard to put out in the feet—which was mostly because there was only a single tenketsu in the very center of the foot's bridge—the forehead, which still only had a single tenketsu but a comparably smaller surface area, would be magnificently less frustrating a place to teach young children to manipulate their chakra.
Well, I thought, sitting up and holding the leaf to my forehead, here goes. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, imagining the energy swirling in the Hara, thinking of Jiraiya's explanation of spinning the chakra in a certain direction. What felt the most natural? I pursed my lips and concentrated. Clockwise, it seemed…
I felt a grin begin to stretch across my face as a small trickle of warmth slid through my stomach, like hot tea in an empty belly. It was a pleasant feeling. Alright, so that was mixing chakra? That was easy. This wouldn't be so bad.
"Oh," I muttered as the warmth began to escape. Okay, closing tenketsu came next. But where were the tenketsu? I concentrated, tracking the path of the hot-tea sensation and feeling where it began to snake out. I focused on those spots, willing the chakra to stop; to my delight, vein by vein, its advance halted.
Victorious, I let a single sliver climb up through my chest and to my throat, carefully stopping up any escape routes. Finally, after warming my cheeks and temples, I felt the tiniest bit pool onto my forehead. It pushed up against the leaf, clinging to its grooves and bumps.
I slowly let my arm drop.
"Success!" I cheered when it continued to hang on my skin, held in place by the chakra. It fell off a second later and floated to the ground, but I didn't care because I had totally used chakra just now and holy crap that was awesome! I did the leaf-sticking exercise on my first try!
I eagerly grabbed another leaf, this time letting the chakra flow through my right arm and to the tip of my index finger. Gingerly, I poked the leaf and watched, amazed, as it stuck even as I held it upside down and waved it around. I pulled the leaf off and let the chakra flood my hand before pushing it onto the branch next to me; there was a quiet crunch as the chakra grabbed onto the bark and held.
Okay, let me just tell you all now that when I get excited, I do stupid things. Yes, I know that is not a good habit for a ninja-in-training to have, but I can't help it; that's just how I am. Besides, who had time to think about the potential dangers of a volatile and physics-defying energy force when you could do awesomely cool physics-defying things with it? Certainly not me.
But with that said, I really should have thought twice before I placed the leaf back onto my palm and slapped another chakra-coated hand over it. Why? Because the stupid little green monster shot out and sliced right through my arm, cutting across my forearm before burying its tip in my bicep. Blood immediately began leaking from the laceration, little beads of red merging to make a thin, angry crimson line.
I stared, aghast, at the innocuous little plant organ sticking out of my skin. It was regular leaf, teardrop-shaped with a light green stem and several little veins. It was faintly serrated at the edges, but by no means should ithave been able to break my skin. And that besides, the cut was far too neat to have come from from such a jagged edge.
What the hell?
Blood began to dribble down my arm and to my elbow, where it formed tiny blots that hung suspended for a second in the air before falling down to the earth. I watched it drip for a moment longer before dumbly pulling the leaf out of my upper arm and folding it between my thumb and middle finger; it immediately bent, flimsy and delicate. I put its edge to my left index finger and ran it over the skin repeatedly like a saw, but it only tickled me.
...What the hell?
I took out a napkin I'd stuffed in my pocket at lunch and wiped up my arm before it could get all over my clothes; I really didn't feel like explaining to Auntie why the brand new zip-up vest that I had begged and begged for (what? It was a cool vest with a hood and a zipper that could go all the way up to my nose!) was suddenly all blotched up with blood. Then I turned my attention back to the leaf.
Very, very carefully, I coated my hands with chakra again and then closed them over the leaf. It didn't jump out and try to maul me again, but it did suddenly begin buzzing uncontrollably. Eyes squeezed half-shut in trepidation, I slowly lifted one hand.
The leaf stayed put and, thankfully, didn't begin shredding my hand off now that it was free. It was glowing a faint light blue, humming with energy. I gently picked it up, making sure not to touch its edges, and ran it across the tree's trunk. It carved a rough line across the bark.
"Oh my God," I said lowly, jaw dropping as realization hit me. That was chakra flow.
"Holy shit!" I shrieked delightedly, throwing my hands into the air; the leaf lost its sheen when I let it go. "I am a genius!"
(It was lucky no one I knew what around to hear me begin cackling like a madwoman, because if there had been, I probably would have been shipped straight to the loony bin.)
After a moment of concentration, I recalled Asuma's explanation of chakra flow to Naruto: It was two opposing chakra currents, grinding together to sharpen each other to deadly little pieces. Or, well, that was what he said in regard to wind chakra flow, which must have been what I had used, because the only other cutting-capable chakra type was lightning, and I was fairly sure my primary nature wasn't lightning. I mean, it was possible I had it as a tertiary nature, but I was a Namikaze, and when it came to Namikazes it's either wind or water. Being from the wave branch of the clan, I would have thought my primary would have been water, but I knew as a fact from my Academy lessons that secondary chakra natures took years of practice to use without extreme concentration. I had infused that leaf with wind chakra without even meaning to, so there was no way it was my secondary.
What luck it was for me to have randomly decided to smash my chakra-coated hands together over a leaf! I felt my cheeks going rosy with exhilaration. If I could get this down by the time I became a Genin, it—
...It could save my life.
My excitement faded, replaced by creeping sense of horror. When I became a Genin, a war would be on. Though Minato—who I had been using as my measuring stick to determine the timeline—had only just recently become a Jounin, he had mentioned to me a few days ago he would be taking on a six-year-old Genin just recently graduated from the Academy as his student. That could be no one but Kakashi, and if Kakashi was six now, about one and a half years older than me, that meant that the Third Shinobi World War was seven years away at the latest. But I highly doubted it would take that long, because if Kakashi had been thirteen when Kannabi Bridge happened, and Kannabi Bridge had marked the beginning of the end of the war, there was no way I had seven years. Given the fact that I remember a scene from the anime where Kakashi's agemates had been eating dango and "celebrating the long war's end," as I recalled one of them saying, it was entirely possible that the war could even start tomorrow.
When curfew rolled around and I came down from my tree, my hands were shaking. They were aching and raw after putting out so much chakra for the first time, but I just gritted my teeth and held on to the feeling grim determination.
I wasn't going to just get this down anymore. I was going to master it.
"You're pretty crabby today," Yoshiya told me bluntly the next day over lunch.
I paused in scowling at my lunch box and looked up and him in surprise.
"Is it that obvious?" I asked, holding back a sigh as I shoved a piece of potato into my mouth, wincing when I accidentally stabbed my gums with my chopsticks. Yoshiya raised an eyebrow.
"Stupid question, sorry," I did sigh then, putting my elbow on the desk and leaning my cheek into my hand, laying my chopsticks down glumly.
"You wanna share?" Akihiko asked through a giant mouthful of onigiri, spraying a few morsels as he spoke. Yoshiya made a gagging noise.
"You're disgusting," he informed, delivering a well-placed kick to our spiky-haired friend's leg before quickly scooting away. I wrinkled my nose and picked a bit of half-chewed nori off my arm.
"I think I'm with Yoshiya on this," I decided, eyeing the repulsive mess of slobbery rice covering the desk with a grimace. "That is so gross, Akihiko."
Akihiko scowled and began chewing furiously. A huge lump distended his throat when he swallowed, making the skin stick out so far that I wondered how he wasn't choking.
"Shut up," he gasped after he forced the food down with a long swig of juice. "I can eat however I want. But seriously, what's up with you?"
I pursed my lips in contemplation. Was complex social interaction above their heads? Would they understand how the little nuances of Itsuki's demeanor could mean so much more than they appeared to? They were still so young, and besides that, they were young boys, so when they got angry, they said so.
"There's this shopkeeper I've been visiting lately," I said at a length, wondering how best to describe my problem to them. "He was really nice to me when I met him. He helped me out and gave me food and stuff."
Akihiko stared. "I don't see the problem," he said.
"She's not finished, dumbo," Yoshiya rolled his eyes. Akihiko bristled and turned to glare at him.
"The problem," I interrupted before they could get started, "is that yesterday he did a total one-eighty. He went from really friendly to really mean."
"Oh," Akihiko said, attention successfully diverted. He turned back to face me. "Did you say something?"
"I might've, but I don't think that was the issue," I sighed, not quite sure if the whole "you're not fair" thing could have prompted such an extreme swerve in demeanor. Something told me that was more a symptom of the change than the cause.
"So he suddenly was just mean to you?" Yoshiya asked thoughtfully. "If you didn't do anything, maybe it's not your fault. Maybe he's just taking something out on you."
Was that it? I would be the last person to be surprised if Itsuki had some sort of repressed issue. I thought back and imagined him. Arms crossed, eyebrow raised… expectation in his eyes.
He had been checking me, assessing me for something. It was the look someone gave when a student failed a test, when they couldn't solve a problem… But what had he wanted me to do? What had I done wrong?
"You should just beat him up," Akihiko suggested cheerfully. Ah, that was typical Akihiko, just hit the problem until it solves itself.
I paused.
...Hit the problem?
"I don't like the look on your face," Yoshiya said anxiously. "Please don't tell me you're taking this moron seriously."
"Hey!" Akihiko protested, indignant.
"Akihiko, do you think you could beat a Chuunin?" I asked slowly, gears turning in my head. Itsuki had said he'd been a Chuunin...
"Huh? Um, maybe," he blinked, looking surprised that I really was asking. "Yeah, probably, if I took him off guard. Do you know the ikken hissatsu kata from third tier?"
Ikken hissatsu, to annihilate in one blow. That was unusual for Hurricane Gale, which was heavy in counters and defensive techniques. The philosophy of our clan's style was that one should never throw the first blow.
"I'm only learning at the second level right now," I shook my head negative. "I didn't know we had techniques like that."
"My shishou says that if you're fighting someone who outclasses you in skill and experience, you have to end the fight in a flash," he informed. "He says that's when it's necessary."
"Do you think... you could show me?" I asked a bit hesitantly, glancing at the clock on the classroom wall. There were still forty-five minutes till lunch ended.
"If you want," Akihiko grinned a bit. "Well, you need to have learned the Rising Tide attack forms, though."
"I have those down," I nodded. Rising Tide was one of the first offensive kata learned in Hurricane Gale.
"You're joking!" Yoshiya took the opportunity to put in, looking astounded. "You aren't seriously going to try to beat up a Chuunin for being mean to you, are you?"
"Nope," I said, getting up to follow Akihiko outside. Yoshiya stared.
"...Then what are you doing?" he asked bemusedly.
"I'm going to beat up a Chuunin to prove a point," I replied.
I will not claim to be a tactical mastermind. Analytics, calculations, predictions… that sort of thing I left to others. But even though I couldn't claim to be good at strategizing, I could claim to be decently clever; the fact that I had something to prove probably helped.
Over the course of the next three days, I lurked around Mikawaya Fruits, observing Itsuki's routine from a distance. I had no doubt that he noticed me—even with my hood on and collar zipped all the way up, it was hard to miss such a deliberate child—but I had planned for that, too, so that when I showed up on the third afternoon I was totally ignored.
Perfect.
Itsuki emerged from the shop carrying a stack of heavily loaded crates, eyes briefly flickering toward me. The second he turned his gaze away, I sprang forward.
Itsuki, I knew, had once been a Chuunin, a journeyman ninja who had seen a fair bit of combat. I also knew that battle senses, once developed, were never fully lost. But Itsuki had not been in practice for a long while, so while he dropped his burden and blocked my first punch easily, catching my wrist and lifting it so I was forced to stand on my toes, he was totally unprepared for the shameless nutshot I delivered with my foot.
He had enough self control not to scream or anything, but he immediately sank to his knees, releasing my hand with a pained grunt. I spread my feet apart like Akihiko had showed me and took a deep breath.
"Hurricane Gale: Tidestrike!" I shouted. Shouting, however corny it seemed, was a very important part of martial arts here. Kiai, it was called, and though sometimes it startled or intimidated opponents, it was mostly just to convey a fighting spirit. If anything, it helped the user concentrate on performing the attack better.
My first strike was deflected, but it brought me in close enough range to slam my palm over Itsuki's ear. Sense of orientation disrupted, his next block was fumbling enough for me to bring my sandal up and plant it over his windpipe with a victorious yell.
Yes, that was my plan all along. Lull Itsuki into a false sense of safety by doing nothing for two days, kick him in the balls to bring his neck into my range, and use one of my clan's very few killing strikes to give him this message: I am going to be a ninja. Maybe I was only a kid, and maybe this attack would only bruise him, but I was on my way. That, I had realized after talking with my friends, was what he had been waiting for: proof that I could be a ninja.
"I don't know what made you retire," I told him, slightly out of breath, "but whatever it was, don't think I'll let it happen to me."
For a moment, Itsuki could only stare at me, lips parted just a bit. Then he let out a hoarse chuckle.
"That was dirty," he complained, staggering to his feet.
"No fair play," I grinned in reply, far more cheekily than I should have. The brunet cracked a smile.
"Kid, you might be okay after all," he said.
A/N: Yes, Suzu puts on her srsbsns face for the first time. She's had fun goofing around for the past few chapters, but from here on out, things are, as predicted, probably going to get worse. A lot worse.
Yoshiya and Akihiko may bicker a lot, but they really are good friends. They met because Akihiko couldn't get a seesaw going on his own and Yoshiya was there to help, and there is nothing better to inspire friendship between two little boys.
As a side note, though Suzu says yelling out technique names is a form of kiai, actual kiai are usually only a single syllable. Also, I was really, really tempted to title this chapter "Nutshot."
Cheers,
Eiruiel
(PS: I kind of want to write a sidestory showing Itsuki's thought process throughout this chapter. What do you guys think?)
