Edit Jul/27/2017 Beta'd by FreelanceBum !

Word count: 2,580

.

~ X ~

.

Chapter 4 - Little Things

.

~ X ~

.

"Show me again."

Tsume sighed and went through the hand-signs again, watching her daughter react to the collection of chakra on her palm as it light up the dark room they sat in.

"Geez, if I knew you liked chakra so much I wouldn't have gotten you so many toys—you don't even touch them," she huffed, letting the light on her palm concentrate into a ball of energy. It wasn't anything flashy, like the Rasengan, but it spun in a slow, lazy circle anyway; a tiny star in the palm of her hand.

Hana's eyes were wide like saucers, holding her breath as if any subtle movement might make the chakra ball in Tsume's hand to blow up in her face. It wasn't that kind of technique though, obviously, Tsume wouldn't show her two-year-old daughter anything dangerous; it was a jutsu that was supposed to look like a lightbulb. Harmless—but to Hana, it was the first real chakra technique she had ever really seen up close. It was magic in the palm of Tsume's hand, and however depressed or melancholic her daughter's attitude had been recently, seeing something so spectacular, so close, seemed to bring the girl out of her shell far more than ever before.

Like the spark in Tsume's hand, something bright flickered to life in Hana's eyes. It… was curious. Tsume would have to investigate further.

"My hand is cramping up." Tsume murmured, a devious little smile on her face. "I can't use all my chakra like this… what if my fingers fall off?"

Hana looked up at her, hands suddenly clamping down on Tsume's wrist. "That wouldn't happen," she stated, so sure in her belief. Though, a moment later, her composure crumbled and she started inspecting Tsume's hand.

"Oh sure," Tsume said darkly. "I could use too much energy keeping this light going, not notice, and poof!" She shut off the light, moving her hand inside her sleeve quicker than Hana's eyes could follow. "No more left hook, no more fingers."

"That..." Hana fretted, looking down at her empty hands. "That's not how it works though."

"Oh? Says who?" Tsume tilted her head to the side.

"Uh..." She faltered. "TV?"

Tsume shook her head. "Nah, I don't buy it. The only shows we get are done by civilians—it takes too much time and effort to film ninjas unless it's for a movie or something." Tsume raised an eyebrow at her. "Have you been sneaking into my bedroom while I've been out?"

"Ugh…" Hana paled. "No..?"

"Funny, because I could've sworn I found your scent all around my bookshelf last week." Tsume sighed, fixing Hana with an unimpressed stare. "Come on, kid. You don't have to lie to me—we're buddies, right? If you wanna learn about chakra, you just have to ask."

Hana looked up at her hopefully. "So...I'm not in trouble?"

Tsume shrugged. "You're two, it's not like you were trying to sneak out and meet boys without my knowing. I haven't even taught you how to read yet." Tsume frowned. "Though, I thought I told you to wait until the Academy…"

Hana started to sweat again.

What was she supposed to say? That she knew about the world from a tv show she watched in her childhood?

"Geez, kid, don't look so upset." Tsume muttered, looking at Hana's troubled face "I'm not really upset with you—If you're really that desperate to learn, I can teach you. I'd be more worried if I found out you were practicing jutsu on your own. As long as you're learning about it in a book, it's fine. "

Hana's eyes drifted down to Tsume's hand, resting softly on the bed they sat on. Her knuckles were ragged and scarred pink from being overworked, and Hana couldn't tell which scars were from too much training, or from enemy fire. It could've been either, and the amount of scars drove home how dangerous ninjutsu really was. How many times had she accidentally hurt herself? It was good Hana couldn't read any of the books she took from Tsume's room—her body was far too frail to take the kind of abuse Tsume had endured.

Tsume watched Hana inspect the circular scars on the back of her hand—she found cigarette scars from a couple years ago. Hana could tell what they were, but the cause... Torture? Domestic abuse? Self-harm? She had no idea.

She pursed her lips, wondering if things would get too personal if she asked some questions. "You… get hurt a lot when you're working, don't you..."

"Well, yeah..." Tsume said slowly, letting her daughter curl her fingers together. "Everyone gets hurt sometimes. My job can be dangerous."

Hana's thumb brushed over a thin, pink scar across the top of her guardian's wrist. Her palms were calloused, with cuts and new skin stretching over healed wounds—they didn't seem to end either. She traced them farther up her arm, up to her elbow, until she stopped short.

It was... an uncomfortably intimate act. Like sharing secrets. It didn't seem appropriate for someone who didn't consider the woman family. Tsume was a friend, right? Sure, she loved Hana, and saw her as her daughter…. and occasionally had to remind Hana that she would literally do anything for her. Damn, that sort of devotion made Hana feel guilty.

"Sorry..." she said hurriedly, ducking her head and giving Tsume some space.

The Inuzuka raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

Hana chewed her lip, eyes flicking from Tsume's arm, to her face, to the futon they were on. She rolled onto her back, ignoring the way her guardian furrowed her brows in confusion.

Should she really be acting so familiar with her after such little time? Admittedly, Hana had technically known Tsume for two years now. It just felt like… well, their relationship was still new. Hana had slept through a large portion of her new life, but… without Tsume's care, she'd be helpless and without a clue where she was. She felt shady being inside the body of her daughter. She didn't feel like a child, like the real Hana, but... what was she supposed to act like? Surely she was doing something wrong. She didn't know how to act like Tsume's kid, and no matter how guilty Hana felt towards not recognizing Tsume as her mother, she couldn't just force herself to act differently for the rest of her life. Who was the real Hana? Was she some unknown Konoha ninja? She was Tsume Inuzuka's daughter, sister of Kiba—

Oh.

Sister of Kiba, as in, yet it be born, Kiba. Which... Definitely put her in an interesting situation.

The faintest laugh bubbled past her lips, before she clamped her teeth shut and covered her mouth.

Tsume at least had the decency to look amused, despite the thoughtful look behind her eyes. Like she was trying to figure Hana out, like a book, or a puzzle. Anyone who said Inuzuka weren't smart obviously never spent much time with were times when Hana was almost certain Tsume could look right through her facade.

Good lord, Hana was going to have a little brother in a couple years. She couldn't have that sort of responsibility in her life, shit, goddamnit. She didn't know how to deal with this new information.

"What are you thinking about?" Her mother asked eventually, poking a calloused finger against Hana's cheek.

Hana flinched, feeling even more guilty when she saw Tsume quickly draw her hand back, edging away from her.

"Sorry Hana, I didn't mean to spook you—"

Hana shook her head. "It's okay, I was just thinking hard." Which… wasn't really a lie, even though it felt like one. Really, she just didn't want Tsume to feel like she was overstepping boundaries, which, again, she kind of was since Hana didn't feel like Tsume was her mother, but…. dammit. It wasn't Hana's fault she remembered her past life—she shouldn't have to feel guilty for loving her other mother from her past life. She couldn't help it.

But… what was stopping her from loving Tsume as a sort of…. foster mom? She could try doing that, right?

Hana looked back down at the cigarette burns on Tsume's skin. She… really didn't deserve a troubled kid like Hana. If her hands showed anything, it was that she already had a lot on her plate to deal with. "Being a ninja means getting hurt a lot, huh."

"Sometimes, yeah," said Tsume, letting Hana grab onto her hand once more. She watched as Hana gingerly traced the pink scar tissue on her knuckle, before taking her other hand and pointing out some of her scars as well. "I got this one mishandling a kunai, see? Right across the thumb. Hurt like hell when I was in the academy."

Hana traced the shiny line. "That's a really old one, right? I thought scars faded after time."

"Some do." Tsume nodded. "Sometimes people get scars removed—medical ninjutsu has the power to make wounds heal up, no scars at all."

Hana frowned. "Then why do you still have yours?"

"Hmm…" Tsume scratched her chin. "That might be… because they tell a story." She laid her palms flat to the bed, splaying out her fingers for Hana to see. "Sure, my skin isn't pretty and smooth anymore, like yours, but after everything I've been through, I'm proud of my body for enduring it all. The nicks and scratches that show up even after I've fully healed show how strong my body is after all my training, and how much I've overcome since joining the military."

"Even though they remind you of when you were hurt?" Hana couldn't help looking back down to those cigarette burns.

Tsume ran her fingers over them thoughtfully. "I knew what I was getting into when I became a ninja—sometimes you get hurt and you can't help it. Sometimes… it's important to put yourself on the line even though you know you're going to get hurt. There's bravery in that, I think." Tsume shrugged her shoulders. "Though, I admit, it'd be nice to wear short sleeves once and awhile and not have people stare."

"Do they do that a lot?"

She shrugged again. "Sometimes. You take it as it is—I'm not ashamed of them, and I'm not afraid of being a shinobi because I know I can survive. My scars prove it."

Hana didn't say anything, staring down at her own hands. Was she afraid of being a being a ninja? Perhaps. She was definitely afraid of getting hurt. She didn't want to die. Honest and truthfully, she didn't. She wanted a cushy, calm life, free to pursue her dreams of becoming an artist… in a world where nobody really valued it as much as they did the art of murder.

It wasn't fair. How was Hana supposed to follow her dreams if all of those were so far out of reach? Her old life was an entire world away, and she was living in a world of monsters and warlords with absolutely no way to live peacefully on her own. Sure, she could run, but would she be okay leaving Tsume behind? She…

She didn't want to be alone anymore.

Tsume pursed her lips, perhaps picking up on Hana's internal struggle. "Hana, are you okay? I haven't lost you, have I?"

"No, I'm still here." She frowned, puffing out her chubby cheeks. She was well aware of the fact that she wasn't acting like a child, and hoped that by pouting she somehow lightened the mood a bit. "I was thinking about being a ninja."

Tsume sighed, shrugging one shoulder at her. "You don't have to feel pressured, you know. I wouldn't force you to do anything you don't want to—you could go to a civilian school later on and be anything you want."

Hana considered it. "What if I wanted to be a criminal? Or a thief? Or a starving artist?"

Tsume let out a mock gasp. "Anything but that, surely—not an artist. Not in this house."

There she was, giving Hana another way out. Maybe Tsume didn't even want Hana to become a ninja—she knew the dangers of being a shinobi, she might not have wanted Hana to experience that life. Hana could go ahead and live her own way, free of bloodshed and heartbreak. She didn't have to get involved, it was her choice.

But Hana knew what was going to happen in the future, and she… she had an obligation to do something, didn't she? If she just ran away, who would get hurt in her place?

"How old do I have to be to join the academy?" she asked then, weighing her odds. She could take the classes, and quit, right? She didn't have to become a jounin and save the world. She could do small, deliberate acts that could change the foreseeable future for the better. Give Naruto some kindness as a child, maybe house train Kiba and Akamaru...

Perhaps... She could do this—maybe it wasn't impossible. She couldn't control the world or what happened, but... maybe make some lives easier? Be the sort of person they could rely on for a smile and some encouragement.

Little things. She could do little things.

"Most kids don't start until they're older—six at least," Tsume replied finally. "But... I could give you some early training if you really wanted it. The courses you'd take at school would be a lot easier with some skills built up in advance..." She looked at Hana, judging her.

"I can do it." she reassured, placing her hand in Tsume's. "I can learn."

And she really could—she wanted to, even. She wanted to control her own chakra, find out the theory of it, how it flowed beneath her skin and how ninja could control it with hand signs. She wanted to protect herself and to have a better understanding of the world around her.

She didn't think she could wait until she was older. She couldn't stand doing nothing for that long—too much time would be wasted.

Hana had never traveled in her past life, but now, with the possibility of running across country in days, well. She had hopes, ideas and plans spinning in her head already. She didn't have to be a quiet nobody anymore, spending all her time silent and unmoving. She could be loud, fast—bold even. The thought made a shy smile come to her lips. She could reinvent herself now, a whole new life stretching out in front of her, with possibilities she didn't even know she had until this point. Her chest burnt with a new hope she didn't have a year ago, lost in a haze of confusion and sleep—before that even, stretching back to her previous life. It was the sort of feeling that she had gotten getting into university, or after facing one of her fears. It was feeling alive—feeling brave.

Hana's cheeks flushed a light pink as Tsume caught her zoning out again, and she scratched the back of her neck. "I think… want to be a ninja… Mother." She wrinkled her nose at the formality but shot her guardian an honest smile. Maybe if she let herself be a little bit more optimistic, going through school would be a little bit easier.

Tsume's jaw dropped, but soon enough, the widest, brightest grin stretched across her face. "I'd be more than happy to teach you, kiddo."