.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
how I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high,
like a diamond in the sky.
At age six, midway through the year, Haruko is handed a headband and shoved into the arms of Nonou under an apprenticeship.
The event unfolds without fanfare; she has no graduation ceremony, Lord Hokage gives no speech about the Will of Fire or the bright future ahead of her as a protector of Konoha. Dai, out on the frontlines, isn't there to witness it. She is given the graduation tests, she passes, and that's the end of the story.
Nonou starts Haruko's infiltration training in earnest. Now that Haruko has no other studies to worry about, all of her attention goes into this, training six days out of the week.
Her curriculum expands. Genjutsu takes a high focus, but Nonou begins working Haruko in poison making and weapon throwing, pressure points and turning mundane objects into weapons should she find herself in a pinch. She learns wind jutsu that allows her to cut a tree in half or suck the air from an enemy's lungs. The new studies are exhilarating for Haruko. A different lesson every day, an unending pool of knowledge for her to drink from—Haruko sucks it dry.
Haruko takes few D-rank missions with Nonou, but when she does them, they always have a modifier to avoid wasting either of their time. They turn D-ranks from a chore to something fun. Memorable ones include doing the entire mission in silence, wearing a henge for the whole of the mission and having to change it every two minutes on the dot, doing the mission in full maiko attire.
In this case, Nonou told Haruko to pick a persona to run her next missions in. Haruko chooses a twenty-year-old civilian prostitute who needs money for a meal. She shows up with a ridiculous amount of toilet paper stuffed in her training bra, lipstick and bright makeup slathered on her face, and her long black hair pulled up into a high ponytail.
Haruko approaches the Hokage Tower, where the mission desk is located. Nonou waits in front of the door. As Haruko gets closer, Nonou turns to look at her and the expression on her face is a priceless mixture of horror and shock.
I wonder how many of her life choices she's currently rethinking.
Nonou lets out a put-upon sigh. "Haruko."
"You said I could pick whatever I wanted," Haruko says. She lowers and deepens her voice, trying for a sultry purr, but she misses by a long shot. She sounds more like a twelve-year-old boy who's been smacked by puberty. "You never said I had to pick something appropriate."
"I assumed it would be implied."
"Well, you know what they say, when you assume."
Nonou tilts her head, curious.
Haruko smiles. "You make an… oh. It doesn't work in Japanese, does it? Nevermind."
"If I ask you to go home and change, what would you come back as?"
"A twenty-one-year-old prostitute who requires money for rent."
"And that's different… how?"
"Right now, I'm a twenty-year-old prostitute who needs money for a meal. Different age and desperation level."
Nonou sighs. Haruko feels delightfully childish in this moment. "That's terribly insensitive and inappropriate."
"Yes, it is."
"Alright, well… if anybody asks, I do not approve, nor do I condone this behaviour." Nonou looks around them. She leans down to Haruko's level and, in a quiet voice, she says, "But I expect you to play this character in full, so far as you can go without sexually harassing your comrades. Am I clear?"
"Yes."
"Good. I will be right back with the mission scroll."
Nonou leaves Haruko alone on the steps instead of bringing Haruko along like she usually does. Out of shame, perhaps, or as some minor form of punishment, like somebody taking a toy away from their puppy for being naughty. It serves to heighten Haruko's satisfaction in her persona choice either way.
Nonou soon returns and gives a fist-sized blue bag to Haruko, the cotton stretched by the contents inside. "You'll be running messages through the village," she says. "These are the messages. Each comes with an address—you will take them on your own, but I will give you directions should you need them."
Haruko undoes the tie on the bag and pulls the top one. Along the side, the name 'Hiro Hyuuga' is written, and underneath it the address of, 'residence seventeen'. She holds it up for Nonou to see and, if it's possible, the look on her face now is even more priceless than when she first saw Haruko.
"Oh, dear."
Haruko smiles at her. "I'll be on my best behaviour."
My best prostitute behaviour.
Without another word, she takes off.
She doubts the messages are anything important or time sensitive. She's fine as long as she gets all of them out before sundown. If they were, they would have been worth sending a hawk to deliver. The scrolls probably have little, unimportant matters written on them, like casual letters or passive aggressive reminders from the desk chunin that 'your mission report was due three days ago, turn it in soon or so help me'.
Haruko is disappointed when the Hyuuga compound streets are borderline empty, with only a handful of Hyuuga out and about to gawk at her as she makes her way through to residence seventeen. She meanders through, not trying hard to get there. The numbers on the buildings are labelled and paint a clear path of how to get to her destination, but following directions is a boring thing that boring people do.
"Excuse me."
Haruko stops at the voice.
A stern looking man approaches her. He has the tell-tale long hair and ghostly eyes, the stiff posture, as if somebody shoved a stick so far up his ass that Haruko's surprised she can't see the tip of it when he opens his mouth.
"You can't wander around in here," he says. "Get to your destination. If you need directions, I can provide them for you. You'll be kicked out of you continue to wander like this."
"I'd love some directions to your house, big boy—"
His nostrils flare. "You will cease this nonsense."
"Come now, I've got needs, I'm sure you've got needs. It won't cost ya much."
"Get out of this compound this second."
Haruko smiles and holds up her message scroll. "From the village to Hiro Hyuuga," she says. "I'm taking side jobs, you see. Girl's gotta eat."
Her eyes drag up and down his body, intentionally exaggerated, and she smirks. Smirks are odd for her. Nonou says her smirks are believable, but Haruko never uses them in her daily life and pulling her lips into one feels like trying to bend rusty steel. She says, "Though, I can see something I'd love to try—"
"You will not finish that sentence."
"Fine then. Prude."
Somehow, even with a blank expression, the man manages to convey a vicious glare.
She considers pushing her luck. She could try, but Nonou requires her to prioritize the mission completion Haruko's confident that if she keeps going, this man will kick her out. A shame, it is.
Haruko puts an extra sway in her hips as she skips off towards residence seventeen.
The delightful tickle of somebody glaring at her warms her back the whole way—a wonderful thing, the byakugan is, able to extend the distance of a glare to kilometres.
Sometimes, Haruko wishes she was reborn as a prostitute, not a ninja. It seems like a fun way to live. Makeup and money and hitting on anybody you want with a built-in excuse for your actions. If she was, though, she'd want a prettier name, something like Ayame. She could bang a silver-haired hottie. Having a kid sounded less ideal, but still.
The sound of Haruko's fist on the door of residence seventeen is a dull thud, one that is answered in short order.
A teenager answers. Another typical Hyuuga, but unlike the one who stopped her before, this one has a marking on his forehead that peeks through a veil of brown hair. Bags are under his eyes and his hair is a mess around his head; he looks tired.
Tired people are easier to manipulate.
He might be a bit young for this type of character, but the age of consent in Konoha is sixteen and Haruko's mostly sure this boy's old enough. It's not a big deal if he isn't, though. She doesn't actually want to have sexual contact with these people. She has higher standards than this and, deep down, in the depths of her being, some hint of morality.
But she's ready to pretend she doesn't for right now.
Haruko juts out one hip and puts on the same smirk. "Hey there, sexy—"
He slams the door in her face.
"That's no way to treat a lady." Haruko sighs. "I have a message for you."
The door opens a crack and a hand sticks out of it, palm up and open. "Give it to me."
Haruko runs her fingertips along his palm. "Oh, so soft. I've got soft parts too that I can show you for a small fee—"
The hand jerks back. Haruko tosses the message through the opening and hears it land on the ground, seconds before the door shuts again.
She wonders if she crossed the line for sexual harassment.
Oh, well. What Nonou doesn't know won't hurt her.
Haruko stands out in the clearing. One of the furthest back training grounds, a place of silence and isolation, what she needs for more advanced genjutsu practice like this.
Large area genjutsu.
It affects the general area around her, a fifteen-foot wide circle. Anybody further away than that can only see Haruko standing with her eyes shut and her hands pressed into the bird seal, save for what of her chakra they can sense permeating the air. A thin dusting of it pours out around her. It takes time for her to collect all of the chakra like that and then disperse it, something Nonou assures Haruko that she won't have to worry about in the future. When she has more chakra and even better control, Haruko will be able to force it out in a single burst.
They're a few weeks into working on larger scale illusions since Haruko has near-mastered small things like birds and flowers.
Haruko lets out a breath and a cloud of chakra leaves her body in unison.
Nonou told her to use a memory as a basis. While she starts out, vivid memories work best, things that allow her to access a full range of sensory input to incorporate. She can do the visual aspect of it easily. Sound or smell are wonkier, and touch even moreso. She isn't even going to try for taste.
Haruko finds the memory materializing around her.
She hears the applause, first. The delicate violin intertwines on the offbeat, joined by a chorus of flutes and various string instruments.
She opens her eyes and takes in the crowd of people around her. Hundreds, thousands of people, gathered here for her, clapping for her. They all look ecstatic. Her performance is finished. She did well, she thinks, but she can always do better. She has to strive for success or she'll never make it in this industry, will she?
There's a spotlight above her head but it's not blinding her as it should—the millisecond that thought crosses her mind, the light intensifies, near-enough to block out the rest of the world.
Her gaze moves down on instinct, and she sees a snow-white tutu connected to a light pink bodysuit, the latter matching the ballet shoes on her feet. She's on a stage. She can see the wood of it, light brown and scuffed from the dozens of feet like her that have torn across the surface.
The applause intensifies, near deafening now, like a frantic drum beat.
She feels the itchiness of the tights, the pain in her ankles, the coarse inside of her body suit and how it fits every contour of her body, tailored for her. Haruko moves her hands up and a pair of light pink gloves, stretching from fingertip to elbow, come into view.
Dampness.
Haruko tries to look up into the crowd but there's something in her eyes, now. She tries to blink it away and when they open again, the world is evaporated and the rain is pounding down in a torrent around her.
She's standing in the rain.
Haruko looks down at the hands held in front of her. Calloused, from weapons training and taijutsu and everything required of a ninja.
She's a ninja. Those are her hands.
Haruko Maito is a ninja.
Haruko holds the letter from Dai in her hands and stares at it.
Gai sits beside her, there to listen, and she can see the disappointment clear in his face through her peripheral vision.
Their father was due back two months ago.
The usual schedule is six months in, a month back, and then another six months out. Batches were initially staggered so that the cycle continues. It goes and goes. Steady. Constant. But by the start of the second year of fighting, already, ninja are held at the frontlines for extended spans.
Dai's first cycle was six months, as expected, but the second lasted eight months. Now, he's in his third cycle and has been out for eight months without any sign of coming back soon, which he doesn't seem to mind from the sounds of his letters. He could be putting on a brave face for them. She has no way to tell. Text doesn't have a face to read or tone to gauge.
Gai hoped Dai would be there for their birthday in a month since Dai missed his graduation a few months back. That, at least, was expected. Both of them thought Dai would be home for their birthday, but unless Dai surprises them by showing up the next week for a cycle change, he won't be back in time.
Haruko folds up the letter and offers her brother a smile. "Come on. Let's go make dinner."
The marketplaces come alive with spring.
Crowds come in throngs, no longer chased away by the bitter turn the weather took. Stalls reopen. Small crowds of salesmen from around Fire Country are allowed in with the turn of the season and they flood the streets. Haruko thinks it's a well-timed move by Konoha, allowing more vendors and merchants in now when the war is taking a turn for the worse, a way to counteract the negative news with a positive morale boost.
She wanders the streets with a pocket full of mission money to spend. She has her eye on clothes, something cute and frilly, preferably, to add to her wardrobe. Her body is going through a growth spurt and she's finding that little of what she owns fits her any more.
Haruko eyes up the shops on either side of the marketplace.
She passes by a few clothing stores, but none of their displays catch her gaze, full of plain clothes that Haruko won't touch with a ten-foot pole. She needs colour and texture, something eye-catching and girly.
An upcoming display catches her eye. Haruko gets closer and stops in front of the window, her hand reaching up to touch the glass.
It's an electronics store. An array of radios, cameras, and communication devices litter the display, all seeming out of place with the world around them. She finds that of the things she's encountered in this world that remind her of her life before, electronics, even in a state so much less advanced than what she has vague recollections of, never cease to throw her off balance. The objects are large and clunky, versus the small and streamlined designs she remembers, but able to do less even in their bigger packages.
This world seemed so fantasy, so far-removed from where she came from, that the existence of technology doesn't seem to fit. It makes sense that human beings would naturally reach towards electronic advancement. She can just never decide whether this world taking the same route as her last makes it more or less believable to her.
She runs her fingers over the glass, tracing their shapes. The shop owner watches her.
Haruko doesn't linger.
She stops in a few more shops on her way through. One perk of living in a ninja village is that nobody gives a seven-year-old shopping on her own more than a single glance.
By the time she gets stopped by a familiar voice, she has a few bags on her arms and an empty stomach.
"Hello, there."
Haruko looks to her right. She sees a blonde man with wild hair and a calm smile to contrast it. He's a jonin. A young one, too, still a teenager with his baby face and not-quite filled out body shape, like he's just gone through his own growth spurt. Kakashi stands beside him, cranky as ever.
"Hi," Haruko says. She holds her bags in front of her with both hands. "Nice to meet you… again."
"So you do remember me?"
"Yeah, of course."
The teenager drops a hand on Kakashi's head. Kakashi rolls his eyes and bats at the teenager's arm, but the movement is a half-hearted attempt at best. "Kakashi has told me all about you, you know."
"I have not."
"You have, actually. Her and her brother."
"Oh," Haruko says. "Cute."
Kakashi looks disgusted. "No."
"Look!" the teenager cheers. "He's blushing!"
"Stop it!"
"I never realized you were such a tsundere," Haruko says. "I always thought you were just the strong and silent type." She raises one hand and touches it to her chin. "I'm not sure why I'm surprised."
The teenager cracks up. It's a contained snicker at first, but it breaks out into a fuller laugh.
Kakashi turns on his heel and stalks away into the crowd.
"Ah, man. I should go after him… that's the good teacher thing to do, huh?" He starts to jog away and over his shoulder he says, "The name's Minato Namikaze. Good seeing you!"
Haruko waves.
She picks her way through the streets for a while longer on her way towards a decent stall or restaurant. She isn't picky, per se, so long as she gets food into her stomach. She settles on a dango stand. Something sweet, one of her favourites.
She orders her food, pays the vendor, and goes to take a bite when, for the second time in the last ten minutes, somebody—somebodies, in this case—feels the need to interrupt her.
"My dearest daughter!"
"My dearest sister!"
Haruko takes a bite of her dango. Warm, sugary goodness explodes in her mouth.
Dai and Gai come up beside her, bent at the waist and huffing. In the time it takes them to catch their breath, Haruko has half her dango finished and gets a start on the other half.
"There you are," Dai says. "Finally, we have caught up to you!"
"I wasn't going very fast."
"An elusive target you are, dearest sister!"
"I was shopping."
Dai gasped. "Without us?"
Haruko opens her bag with her free hand and gives them a look inside. "I found a really cute dress, see?"
Dai and Gai peer in, their heads beside each other's.
Dai's face is beet red and he has stars in his eyes when he emerges. "Cute! Indeed, very cute!" he shouts. People begin to turn and stare at them as they walk, most unsurprised, rolling their eyes, ready to see such an unbecoming display from the Maito family. "Oh, my cute, adorable daughter! How I wished I could have seen it on you!"
The vendor glares at them. "Oi," he says. "Buy something or get lost! You're bein' disruptive!"
"We are—we are on our way!" Dai manages.
Haruko gets another bite, eyes closed in bliss.
Arms hook through hers on either side and drag her away. The dango is jostled from her grasp, left abandoned on the dirt. She reaches after it, tears in her eyes, her heart shattered at the thought of what will become of her poor dango, alone, dirtied, while her brother and father carry her off.
Will it get stepped on?
Will some kind soul take it, dust it off, and eat it anyway, so that her dango may have some purpose in its short life?
Haruko will never know.
"You mustn't run off like that!" Gai cries.
"My… my dango."
"We are having family bonding time!" Dai says, an equal amount of zeal in his voice. "Now is not a time to wander off! We still have not yet found your birthday gift, dearest daughter!"
"But I… my dango."
"Family bonding!"
"Family bonding!"
The two of them take up the chant and drag Haruko to her doom.