TITLE: florescence
SUMMARY: To be an older sister, was a full-time job. Her career as a Shinobi was simply a hobby. SI/OC AU. Rewrite.
1. I am officially, FREE.
2. Holy shit I'm actually done with university though, my last exam was probably a couple of weeks ago by the time I get around to posting this.
3. Thank you for to all those who reviewed and followed and favourited! You guys are totally amazing. It genuinely means the world to me.
4. I don't like this chapter. Not one bit but I still have a bit to go before I can start shaping the plot how I want it. As you might have guessed, this story is pretty far away from all of the action to begin with. I'm still not sure if I want Mio to dive headfirst into the plot or pull strings from behind the scenes. I honestly have five options with how the story can go.
5. Once again thank you so much for your reviews and messages, let me know what you think and what you'd like to see happen!
6. A quick reminder that I don't have a beta-reader, and having no idea how to acquire one so all I have is my shoddy attention-span and spell check to slay the beast. So this is probably riddled with errors. Let me know what you think or how to improve!
It took a while for Mio to begin to question her mother's near-constant presence.
Maternity leave was relatively short for shinobi, that was more so out of personal choice most of the time than anything. Technically, with a medics assistance, after birth a kunoichi could be back on active duty within two weeks. It wasn't exactly an approved practise but it was known to happen. Before going back on duty, all new parents were put through another psych evaluation. They were surprisingly thorough, mostly after trial and error.
"Where's your thing?" Mio asked one day.
Her small hands reached up to Mebuki's somewhat defined hip bones. She'd worn her hitaite around her waist ever since she graduated years ago. She'd never really taken it off in a permanent manner, sure, just for sleeping and for bathing like everyone else. Not in a never going to put it back on sort of way.
Not until she was pregnant with Sakura.
It was difficult to get used to, her waist had felt bare for a solid month until she'd gradually gotten used to the sensation.
"Mm, it's somewhere," Mebuki offered.
Her daughter said nothing but she frowned, just for a second, before dropping her hand much like the entire topic. Their silence became somewhat suffocating and even slightly awkward or maybe that was all in Mebuki's head. It was something she brought up to her husband when they were getting ready to go to bed for the night.
He was happily tucked away in bed, his glasses resting uselessly atop of his head as he struggled to read a mission report. The only light in the room was the dim lamp on her vanity table, where she was sat slowly going through her nightly routine.
"She was bound to notice sooner or later," Kizashi pointed out, scratching his nose absentmindedly. "Surprised it took her this long actually."
"She was too excited about Sakura to really notice, now everything's settling down, she's probably starting to pick up on everything she missed," Mebuki murmured, taking her earrings out one at a time. She placed them away in the carved jewellery box she'd been given by her own mother.
"What're you going to tell her?" Kizashi asked, finally looking up from the report, a small wrinkle between his brow.
"Nothing."
"Mebuki."
It was soft and disapproving.
"I won't be able to hold my tongue, if I try to explain it to her, why I resigned, I'll probably influence her and her opinions," Mebuki told him, starting to wipe her face free from the grime and sweat of the day. She went about applying her creams and oils that she insisted made the difference in her skin. Kizashi thought they were all ridiculously expensive scams but each to their own. "Just because I fell out of love with the lifestyle doesn't mean Mio will, that's not fair on her. I can't do that to her."
No matter how badly she wanted to keep her children away from it.
The idea that one or both of her girls could end up in the cutthroat world she'd romanticised herself, it made her chest hurt.
It had been slow over time, the festering rot that stayed in the back of her head. The hatred pooled and it clawed, gnawed away at her every thought. From the second which her husband had been injured, the first time after Mio was born. It just… it took control. Whenever she was on a mission, her mind was at home with her family. Her own mother's voice crooning in her ear, the times which she'd told Mebuki about how selfish kunoichis were, how the shinobi lifestyle was terrible. How it took men and women away from their homes and ruined families.
Mebuki had kept quiet about it.
She hadn't mentioned her thoughts to her husband, to her friends, to anyone really.
It was all she thought about though.
When she'd resigned, no one had taken it particularly well. Tsume had taken it almost like some twisted personal slight, something which resorted to them not speaking for a few months during her pregnancy with Sakura. Whilst Mikoto was on the fence about her decision to resign, mostly due to the fact that she had been forced to resign when she'd fallen pregnant with Itachi, she'd practically bashed their heads together with how silly and stubborn they were being.
Her husband had respected her decision but didn't fully understand it, which was all she could really ask for. Her mother-in-law had said nothing on the topic but their interactions were slightly colder for a week or so after being told.
"How do you think Mio will feel," Kizashi said, bringing Mebuki out of her absent minded thoughts. "When she asks, and you know she will, she's too nosy not to, and her mother refuses to answer her. Not properly."
It was a valid question.
He continued despite her silence.
"Mum was never open about her past, about her reasons for leaving," He told her. It wasn't something which was brought up in conversation, Noriko had been from Kiri afterall. There was nothing easy or pleasant about her history there. Mebuki paused in her nightly rituals. "As a kid, it felt like shit," Kizashi spat with more vehemence than she'd been expecting, jumping slightly in her seat. "No kid likes it when their parents keep secrets from them. So tell her something, anything. She's a smart kid, she won't push."
Mebuki remained quiet, her lips pursed and the awkward silence had somehow infiltrated the sanctity of their bedroom.
She didn't say it. (Would never say it).
But it made her hate shinobi life even more.
Mikoto and Mebuki had been friends for a number of years.
It was a fact; the sky was blue, the grass was green, they were longtime friends.
Surprisingly, despite the number of times the woman came up in conversation, Mebuki and her daughters had yet to cross paths with Mikoto's self-proclaimed best friend. Uzumaki Kushina was, after all, a force of nature. More often than not, Mebuki stayed out of her way simply because she didn't want to get caught up in the storm of a woman.
Mio, however, had been enraptured as soon as she set eyes on the red-headed woman.
She'd shot off like a kunai as soon as she'd seen Mikoto and Itachi in the marketplace, which was fine, it was nothing out of the ordinary. As soon as Mio had learnt to walk, she had been running and getting into things she wasn't really supposed to be in. However, as they got closer, it became obvious that Mikoto was already caught in conversation with Kushina.
Mio didn't hesitate and collided with Itachi in a full body slam that almost swept them both off their feet.
Itachi could have avoided the attack.
By that point, he was already resigned to the inevitable, smart boy.
"Mio," Mebuki hissed, though it wasn't very effect with how far away she was.
"Mio!" Mikoto cooed, her expression brightening a touch at the girl who had wrapped herself around her son like a monkey. The poor thing just stood there, having long since come to terms with his friends somewhat odd behaviour. "It's so nice to see you, how's your sister?"
"She's getting big, her hairs getting longer too," Mio told Mikoto with a beaming grin, turning her attention more onto her friend which she was curled around. "When's your brother getting here?"
Itachi was saved from asking.
"Cute brat," Kushina muttered, eyes settling on the red of her hair, her hands on her hips as she inspected the small girl. The swell of her stomach was barely visible despite being three, maybe four months pregnant. She turned with a mischievous grin to her best friend. "Can I-?"
"You can't steal her," Mikoto cut her friend off promptly.
They smiled ever so innocently at Mebuki as she pulled up to join them.
"Hello Kushina-san," She reproachfully, with care and a wary glance at Mikoto, shifting Sakura whilst extracting a loose strand of hair from her chubby fist. Mikoto looked infinitely amused by Mebuki's wariness of her friend.
"Mebuki, been ages, how've you been? How's Kizashi?" As soon as Kushina started, there was no stopping her. A mile a minute and a grin which threatened to split her face in two.
Mio's head bobbed and swayed, her eyes drawn to the woman's crimson hair that swung just out of reach. It was vivid, stark and eye catching, very different to her own which was mistaken for black in certain lighting. Kushina wasn't pretty like her mama, who was made up of sharp edges and stern composure. She wasn't like Mikoto either, who for all intents and purposes, looked the picture of demureness and elegance. Kushina was somewhere in the middle with childlike glee sewn into her, a passion and enthusiasm that lit up everything. Just a little over-the-top without it becoming obnoxious.
"-est daughter Sakura, and my eldest, Mio."
Mio, said eldest, had yet to climb down from her friend. Itachi having shifted her weight so that he carried her on his back, his arms now hooked underneath her knees to keep her steady.
"Hi hi!" Mio chirped.
Kushina glanced over at Mikoto once more, "are you sure I can't-?"
"Kidnapping is still a felony."
"But she's so cute," Kushina looked torn between wanting to reach over to pinch the girls cheeks and stomping her foot at the injustice of it all. She did look entertained though, eyes sparkling with glee throughout it all. Mebuki however felt like she'd missed something, her own eyebrow arched questioningly as she pierced the two woman with a stare. Kushina held her hands up as if in surrender. "I'm just saying, you got some cute kids Mebuki."
"...thank you?"
Mio laid her chin on Itachi's shoulder, knowing to settle because their mothers were gearing up. Their mouths were moving but all she heard was blah blah blah, a lot of it was inconsequential information. Gossip with no basis or chatter about the best produce, adult things which she didn't have to worry about just yet. Sakura was sent to sleep, dozing in her mama's arms.
"Hana told me to tell you hi," Itachi murmured.
"Tell her I said hi back," Mio said. He could feel the movement of her shrug ripple through him.
"How's being a sister?" He asked. He was genuinely curious afterall, it was the first time since they'd been introduced that Mio had swanned off. He hadn't realised how lonely he was until the chatter suddenly stopped; not that he would ever admit anything out loud. Shisui could only be around for so long at a time and his mother had managed to convince the elders that he should start with the rest of his peers at an appropriate age.
"It's nice," Mio hummed. There was an almost dreamy quality to her tone as she sighed, she was smiling though, he could feel it. "It's strange, having something so small and fragile be dependent on you."
He made a noise of agreement and then gave pause.
"Why do you think it'll be a boy?" He eventually asked.
Their friendship didn't involve a lot of questions, well, not a lot of personal questions. They were smart enough, the pair of them, to know that neither of them were exactly forthcoming with what was going through their head. Their friendship was also built on the fact that no question was out-of-bounds, Mio had no filter and Itachi saw no reason to lie.
Mio had her quirks, some which the adults thought were simply the mark of childhood. They accepted them, didn't understand them, they thought that she would simply grow out of them. Itachi had his own quirks, had his own characteristics. They were both more mature than a lot of adults noticed or cared to admit. He knew that his friend didn't do a lot without good reason, much like himself. She said "I love you" to anyone who left and when he'd asked her about it, she'd just looked at him.
"What if that's the last time I'm going to see them? I want to know my last words to them were meaningful."
It was a surprisingly morbid way of thinking, that death was around every corner. And it was why Itachi knew that her insistence upon his sibling's gender wasn't some whim, the same way that she insisted that she would be having a sister.
Itachi could feel her startle, felt the way her jaw clenched where she rested her chin on his shoulder. Her teeth grinding quietly in his ear and he could imagine the scowl, the deep indentation between her brow.
"Same reason why I knew Sakura would be a girl," she said.
He paused, an obvious invitation for her to elaborate.
"Because I'm always right, silly," she told him.
Her tone was pitched a little higher and despite knowing that she was still scowling, feeling her jaw clenched still, he could envision a wide and innocent smile. Itachi didn't care for her tone, not when it was the same one she used whenever they were treated their age. When they were told that they wouldn't understand "adult things". Her breath was warm and tickled the back of his neck as she turned so her cheek rested against his shoulder blade.
They stood there and waited in silence, a little awkward.
"I'll tell you someday."
The close to startled as Itachi could get was the fractional widening of his eyes but he squeezed her legs in acknowledgement. The two of them listening to their mother's conversations once again just as it began to drift onto topics they were actually interested in.
"Will they be going to the Academy?" Kushina asked, hands clasped together and she looked like she wanted to dance in one spot at the prospect of possibly tainting these innocent children. It was, however, sort of a delicate topic for both Mikoto and Mebuki. Their children remaining silent even as their smiles twisted into something uncomfortable and awkward.
In all honesty, Mio knew that her mama had quit.
She wasn't allowed to say anything since her papa was the one who'd approached her about it, only after it became clear that Mebuki was going to continue to remain stubbornly quiet on the matter and brush off most of Mio's questions. Mikoto had been forced into retirement, Mebuki had found out, as soon as it had been discovered that she was pregnant with Itachi. She never went back on the roster and had enough on her plate with the squabbles she had over when her eldest should actually join the Academy.
In their eyes, he was talented enough so why shouldn't he? It would bolster their reputation, rub the other clan's noses in it, blah blah blah. Fugaku had a difficult time juggling his duties at that point, he was Head of the Clan, he had to do what was right for the clan and to help them as their people but, he was also required to put the needs of his son first as a father.
"Ah, Mio will be…"
"I'm sure Itachi will join… soon," Mikoto waved off her friend, the two of them laughing uncomfortably. An unspoken moment of solidarity between the two of them.
"At least they're not sending them off like cannon fodder anymore," Kushina sighed.
When the war had ended, peace settled over the village and for some, it was slightly uncomfortable. After living in the throes of chaos and thriving in war, despite the casualties and the sacrifices which had been made in the name of Konoha, there was almost an undercurrent of confusion mixed with their sigh of relief. What did you do after the war was over?
"That's true, some of them were sent out so young," Mikoto murmured, her fingers pressed against her lips. The Uchiha's had their own shrine for those Killed in Action, separate from the memorial for all Konoha shinobi. There were so many of them which didn't ever get to see the light of their tenth birthday. There were so many orphans, so many childless parents and their blood forever stained the open palms of Konoha.
There was a heavy paused between the three women.
"This got sad very quickly," Mebuki murmured.
It worked like a charm and the tension seemed to break, the three of them laughing uneasily. Mebuki took it as a means of escape.
"It's nice seeing you both but we've got to get the shopping done before all the good stuff goes in the market," they share a pointed look as if that actually means anything and Mio was forced to climb down from Itachi's back. If she had a sulky pout, no one brought any attention to it. Itachi simply offered her a small consoling smile.
"I'll see you soon," Itachi offered.
"You better," She threatened, waving her fist in his direction as she moved to her mother's side.
There was a short pause as they began to walk away from one another, the families splitting to go their separate ways. Kushina walking backwards so that her eyes rested on the retreating backs of the Haruno family.
"...are you sure-?"
"I am not explaining to the Yondaime why you were arrested for kidnapping."
"You know, no one likes a snitch, Mikoto."
Haruno Kenta died in the early throes of June.
It was one of the warmest summers people could recall or maybe that was simply because there was no war looming over them anymore. The sun was burning bright and Noriko cried out when she woke to her husband's distinct lack of pulse.
Something which Mebuki failed to account for, in spite of her retirement from the shinobi lifestyle, was that death didn't give pause for anyone. It caught up with everyone in the end. Kenta had long retired from his life as a merchant, he didn't travel all too much, he'd dropped most of his vices and live a relatively happy, healthy, safe life within the walls of Konoha.
It didn't mean that it would prevent him from having a stroke and dying in his sleep.
A quiet way to go.
"A kind way to go," they told her.
His death didn't really represent the man that he was though, the man which had welcomed Mebuki into the family as soon as Kizashi had introduced them. The man who had exuded warmth and love, he'd been so playful and so very alive.
It was safe to say that death didn't suit him.
The only thing which kept her going through the trying time was that, if she was feeling like this, the pain and the ache; then what was her husband feeling? It was only natural that his parents wouldn't live forever but she wanted it to be better. She just wanted to make it better for everyone but, no one could make it better.
A part of her, an awful part of her, was somewhat happy that Sakura would be too young to remember him. She wasn't going to feel this pain, she wasn't going to have a chance to miss him. Maybe that was awful but she'd never get attached. Not like Mio.
"He's not dead," she insisted.
Kizashi was, understandably, not in the mood to have this argument. If he was a little short and a little curt with his eldest daughter, then Mebuki understood, not that she approved of it. They'd had to sit there and watch as their daughter processed the fact that her Poppa simply wasn't going to come back.
And when they'd tried to console her…
Well, she'd surprised them all by sinking her teeth into her father's forearm.
He'd dropped her out of sheer shock and she landed with the cat-like grace Mebuki had taught her; she'd ran out of the door, the distinct slam echoing in their house. It was hours, hours before any of them could find her.
They'd checked her usual spots: they'd visited the Uchiha's, checked the playgrounds, the small stream which her Poppa took her to on occasion.
And when the sun began to set, the worry slowly started to morph into panic.
It was the only time Noriko left the guest bedroom.
It didn't take long for her to find her granddaughter. She remembered the trip to the top of the Hokage mountain well, her yelling at both her husband and granddaughter to come away from the edge, Mio's awe-filled gaze as she looked across the skyline of Konoha. It didn't take that much work and Noriko snidely questioned the efforts her son and daughter-in-law made to look for her.
A mean thought but with all things considered, she was allowed to be a little mean.
"You've got everyone worried, y'know," Noriko said.
Her old bones ached as she sat down quietly next to her, they were precariously close to the edge, nestled between the spikes of the Nidaime's head. She was instinctively silent until she made her presence known, a lesson which had been drilled into her brutally when she was just her granddaughter's age. It was something which would never leave her and in the same way, her mind wandered to how her husband would never leave her. Not really.
The fresh air was good for her and her thoughts, as much as she didn't want to admit it. Noriko had been content with wallowing in her own room. Her own sorrow came second to her family's safety though and the scavenger hunt for her granddaughter was good to take her mind off things.
"He's not dead," Mio sobbed.
She slowly uncurled herself from her ball, her shield against the world and Noriko's heart ached even more at the sight of her red-rimmed eyes. Her hair was in wild knots with leaves and twigs tangled throughout. Her sniffing and huffing made Noriko move a little closer, knowing that her granddaughter was trying to calm herself down.
"He is," Noriko didn't offer any comfort.
It was cold and it was curt. There was no dancing around it. Death was death. There was no point denying it.
"No, he's not!" Mio's face scrunched up in anger, in fury and she turned, resting on her knees and her fists raised and started slamming into her grandmother's arms.
There was no force behind it, there was nothing but desperation. She wanted to be reassured, wanted to be told that everything would be alright, that her Poppa would be alive and well when they returned. He'd magically just pop up, sing and dance and laugh with his 'favourite little monster'.
Noriko allowed the first two hits but then quickly caught her granddaughter's wrists, staring into her flushed and angry and distraught face.
"He's dead and he's not coming back, sweetheart," She told her quietly.
Mio struggled against her grandmother as she was pulled into her lap, wanting to fight and kick and scream. It didn't help though, none of it would help. Noriko would give almost anything to have a few more days with her husband but his time was up. Everyone had their time.
Her own tears were silent as Mio started to sob once again.
Her hits turned into grabs, clinging to handfuls of her grandmother's nightdress. The same one she'd worn beside her husband the last time they'd bid each other goodnight. She hadn't wanted to take it off, had wanted to cling to it.
It was nighttime when they got back.
Mio lay fast asleep in her grandmother's arms, her legs wrapped loosely around the older woman's waist with her head laid upon her shoulder. Noriko said nothing to her son and daughter as she walked into the house, they'd been sat in the living room, no doubt anxiously waiting for the two of them to come back but she didn't have the energy to try to speak to them. Instead, she just started up the stairs with her granddaughter in her arms and back into the room which she'd been staying in.
The lock clicked into place.
The funeral took place a few days later and Noriko was glad to see the turn out. Tsume and her daughter had attended to pay their respect, even if they hadn't known each other for the longest of times. Kenta's friends, the ones who she'd insisted were terrible influences, they had all shown in their best dress and their heartfelt condolences and hugs. Even some of Kenta's best customers had shown up to pay their respects to the man they'd once done business with. And family.
Their family stood at the front.
They were a small gathering, a small family, the Haruno Clan. They were eclectic in appearance and there wasn't really a common denominator in appearance. The only thing which really tied them all together was the white circles that stood stark against the black fabric of their clothes.
Mio was relatively quiet considering her outburst a day or so ago, shifting her little sister in her arms, having insisted on carrying her the entire day. She hadn't wanted her parents to touch her, to coddle her and settled for clinging to the warmth of her baby sister. Noriko understood, Kizashi was very much her anchor throughout all of it like Sakura probably was to Mio.
Something to keep them tied to the ground, to the present rather than drowning in the past with ghosts of those who had left them.
Everyone bid their goodbyes before his ashes were spread.
It wasn't raining.
There wasn't a cloud in the sky.
The sun shone brightly and the heat was sweltering and all Noriko could think was that Kenta would've probably loved it. He would've been curled up with Mio under the window, taking naps. He was like a cat in the summer, he fell asleep easily in the patches of light and it annoyed her to no end with his grating snores.
There was an emptiness in her chest when she realised that when she got home, the spot would be empty. Kizashi had offered the room she'd been staying in at their house but she'd kindly turned him down.
Kizashi had his own family to think about after all.
"He wasn't supposed to die," she thought she heard Mio whisper as everyone started to leave. Noriko didn't know if she was supposed to hear her or not. "I didn't- this wasn't supposed to happen."
"Everyone's supposed to die at some point," was all she replied.
Neither of them said anything else to one another for the rest of the night.
CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 4454
STORY WORD COUNT: 17,669
