Last note, I promise: As of today, "Forever" enjoys the Complete status on An Archive of Our Own, so if you start to get antsy and want to read how this all ends, you can head on over there and finish up.
My other 50+ stories are over there, too, and will never again be posted here on ffn.
Also, I usually like to respond to reviewers, but everyone keeps commenting as Guest. :( Thank you all, for taking the time to write a review. Sorry I can't respond to them properly. Thanks for reading. :)
Chapter Twenty-One: Kunoichi
"Unseal this when I'm gone," her mother told her. In her hand was a tightly wound scroll, tied with a simple piece of twine. "It's my wedding present, to you. From me only, not your father," she clarified. Then she paused, running one thumb over the paper, considering. "I don't think I need to tell you this, Mito, but I will anyway... Don't trust your father."
"Why?" she asked automatically, accepting the scroll. She had never really liked her father, but he was still her father. Blood was thicker than water, it was said.
"There's another Uzumaki lineage," Uzumaki Nanami told her, purposefully ambiguous, her expression grave. "One I'd rather not talk about. Maybe someday, okay?"
Mito nodded dumbly, still looking at the scroll, not quite thinking about what was in it, nor the lineage of her father and what that might mean for her... not yet. She wasn't sure she wanted to know any of it. "What now, Oka-san?" It was strange… only that morning she had never wished to see her mother again. Now, suddenly, she was worried she might never see her again, and after the warnings about her father… Mito wasn't sure she wanted her mother to go back home.
Nanami breathed in a deep breath of clean forest air. "Well..." she hedged, exhaling slowly through her nose. "The wild environments are refreshing… I think I may run away from home again. Good things happen to us Uzumaki when we run away from home," she added with a wink. "After all, the last time I did it, the gods blessed me with… you." Her dark eyes sparkled in the fading sunlight.
Mito's eyes bulged, her mouth falling open again. "Oka-san!" she squawked, scandalized.
Uzumaki Nanami laughed. "We aren't so different, you and I, Mito mine. Denying your nature will only bring you unhappiness. So…" She shrugged. "Don't." With a wink and a quick kiss, her mother set off down the path of a new life, a casual wave over her shoulder their only farewell. Mito could only stare, shocked into silence, as her figure shrank smaller and smaller upon the horizon before disappearing entirely
She spent a long time at the kitchen table after that alone with her thoughts, struggling to make sense of Uzumaki Nanami the kunoichi. Mito had been so thoroughly duped for her entire life, and apparently her father had been, too. Well, she supposed he actually wasn't her father, but… who was her father? To think that Uzumaki Katashi had been tricked into raising a child not his own, all the while so adamant about furthering his line… She smiled a small, secretive smile, pleased that the gods were just.
She remembered her mother's words, then, about there being another Uzumaki lineage. 'Don't trust your father,' she had said. With all that said, and that other matter, the one of great secrecy that her mother had been so proud of uncovering, Mito wondered just how deeply the secrets of the Uzumaki ran. She spent a long time trying to decipher the meanings and philosophies of all that her mother had told her. Long enough that her brain hurt, at which point she rejected that logic and replaced it with the logic that had governed her this far. "You have a certain amount of knowledge, Uzumaki Mito," she said aloud to herself. "Don't pretend you know anything else." She couldn't very well make sense of the world if she was trying to see what could not be seen. For the time being, she was merely Hashirama's wife, granted a new set of power and knowledge of an even greater power that she could harness for herself, if she chose.
Was this what it meant to be a kunoichi? To use every talent at her disposal to protect the ones that she loved? She thought of Momoka, and Hashirama, and Tobirama and Touka. Would she be willing to dance with evil, lash it to her will, and wield it against her enemies if it meant keeping them safe?
Honestly, she didn't know. The thought of it was terrifying.
Her eyes fell upon the scroll. She feared that there was something wicked sealed within it, and hesitated to open it. But her mother wouldn't grant her some unfathomable power and then kill her off, would she? Troubled, she thought about how little she really knew about Uzumaki Nanami, and decided that no possibility could be considered off the table. In fact, it was entirely possible that Nanami's lineage was the evil one. Perhaps the scroll on the table, once unsealed, would enslave Mito for some dark purpose. Although, it was more likely that the scroll simply contained some twisted pet or other for Mito to practice her powers on.
She stared at it for several minutes before she gathered the courage to open it, telling herself that Hashirama would not have hesitated (though he would definitely proceed with caution). Slowly, she untied the knot closing the scroll and unrolled it upon the tabletop. When all of the writing was revealed, she stared. On the parchment were a spiral and the kanji for knowledge, as well as the brushstrokes needed to seal it within the page. At first, she had no idea how to unseal the 'knowledge' from the scroll, but like a hazily remembered dream, the memory flooded into her. She brushed her fingers over the kanji, connecting her chakra with the seal, twisting it like a key. Wisps of smoke rose from the writing; she retracted her fingers.
A moment later, a stack of books suddenly appeared with the pop of released chakra. Mito emitted a strangled gasp of surprise, for there upon her modest tabletop were all of the texts that her father had supposedly burned, all the way from "Principles of Medicine" to "Life as a Cell" to "Basic Shinobi Techniques Volume 1: Chakra," as well as a few other texts that her mother had added to the pile that Mito was certain Uzumaki Katashi had never consented be purchased. Mito gingerly touched the worn cover of a text called "Fuinjutsu Before Kaguya," though its author was apparently unknown. The pages were so old and brittle that Mito felt that she might wear gloves just to turn its pages. There was also another old text, though not quite as old as the first, simply entitled "Uzumaki."
Tears sprang to her eyes. All her life, she had believed that neither of her parents had ever really loved her, nor understood her, that Arata had been the only one who had ever even cared. And after all that, her mother came storming back into her life, not only confessing that she had silently been rooting for her success all along, but also paying attention to her private quirks, too. She wondered how much trouble her mother had endured to protect her favorite texts from Katashi's ire, and was touched by the sentiment behind the gesture.
It was disorienting, to find out that your mother really loved you after all. She wiped the tears from her eyes, filled to bursting with a newfound respect and admiration for her melodramatic mother and the secrets she had borne on her behalf. The reacquaintance with her mother—her real mother—reinvigorated Mito. For the first time since she had learned what chakra even was, Mito had the urge to know what it meant to truly be a kunoichi. The self assurance and quietly simmering power of Uzumaki Nanami had made her envious. Uzumaki Nanami was a force to be reckoned with—sly, observant, and completely in control of the situation. No one had known her secret until the moment she had chosen to reveal it.
Mito wanted that.
And so, because her mother had told her everything she was apparently going to and not a word more, Mito went to the only other kunoichi she knew to try to learn more about the artful craft of female ninjas. Touka actually wasn't that difficult to find. She was usually in one of a handful of places: training, gambling, or sleeping, and it all depended on what time of day it was.
At this time of day, it so happened that Touka was training. She usually went alone just outside the walls of the village, to a place where the land was still cut by fighting. When Mito arrived, Touka was sitting cross-legged on the ground, her hands joined together to focus chakra. "Uzumaki-sama," she drawled, not even opening her eyes.
"I've often wondered," Mito mused conversationally, "why it is that you are not invited to committee meetings."
Touka smirked. "Well, your first mistake was assuming I was not invited."
Mito blinked. "If you are invited, why do you not go? If I could be involved in the planning of this village and its facilities, I would want to go."
"Then go," Touka stated simply.
"It's not that simple," she returned.
Touka raised one eyebrow but said nothing. Mito got the impression that Touka did not believe it was that complicated. "Planning commissions are for 'samas," she muttered by way of explanation. "I'd rather be out here. Training."
Mito glanced about at the broken ground. "Doesn't it bring back ugly memories?" Mito asked with concern. Mito hated it out here. Everywhere she looked she saw a Shinobi bleeding to death and begging her to save them.
"Exactly," Touka deadpanned.
Mito frowned, not understanding. Touka seemed always, though, to understand the deeper meanings in situations without needing anyone to point them out. "Teach me," she bade her. She did not feel a need to elaborate. Touka had purposely made herself available for few uses; it just so happened that they were her favorite ones.
She winked open one eye and smirked, looking sidelong at Mito. "How to master the rod?" she inquired.
Mito blinked, confused. "What?" Touka's smile only broadened further, and though it took Mito a moment, she caught on to the jest. It was a crudely stated joke about controlling her husband through sexual means. Mito blushed furiously. "No," she choked out. "Not that." She cleared her throat and smoothed her skirts. "To be a kunoichi."
Her smirk stayed frozen for a moment, still amused by her own joke, as if to say, 'same thing'. Then, she opened both eyes and stood. "Ahh, Uzumaki-sama…" she dragged the words out, emphasizing. "You already are kunoichi."
Mito's head cocked slightly to one side. "You keep hinting at that. Why? Be more straightforward, please."
Touka clapped her on the shoulder. Hard. Mito winced. "Because you are a woman. We're all born with it. What do you think it means to be kunoichi?"
Mito, naturally, thought about her mother. "Secret. Clever. Powerful. Is that right?"
Touka was nodding. "But there is so much more," she added. Her voice was low and serious, lecturing even. "A kunoichi conserves her strength until it is needed. She is crafty, agile, and adaptive. She can add herself to any situation under any kind of duress without issue. She is the best of spies, the most dangerous of Shinobi. Men cannot be easily tricked by other men. Every man is vulnerable to the wiles of a woman. She controls every situation, and no one will ever know that she pulled the strings. Most will never know that she was ever trained to do so. Some will never even know she exists. There are thousands of Shinobi, combat ready, willing to die for any cause, to lay down their lives in service of their banner. There are only a handful of kunoichi, and we stubbornly refuse to die."
Mito listened, captivated by the momentum of Touka's voice. Senju Touka had been raised in an era of war, a woman warrior from the time she could hold a kunai. It had never occurred to Mito that anyone could actually enjoy the fighting. To her, war seemed like a curse in need of lifting. Touka made it sound like an elaborate, exciting game. But… "The war is over, Senju-san," Mito stated, perplexed.
Touka snorted and wrinkled her nose with distaste. "Don't call me that. Too stuffy." She pointed to herself. "Touka-kun."
"As you say," Mito acquiesced. "The war is over, Touka-kun," she repeated.
Touka's eyes grew hard and icy. "Uzumaki-sama, as a kunoichi, we are not afforded the luxury of that pipe dream."
There was something dangerous and secretive lurking in Touka's smoky eyes. It was a portent of something dreadful, and Mito didn't want to be caught unaware. If Touka knew something that Mito didn't, she would need to know what it was. She was tired of being a half a step behind the Senju. "I'm not sure what you mean. Why do you think that? The village is built… Senju and Uchiha are one, now."
Touka's eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to decipher if Mito was serious or not. The weight of that stare was intensely uncomfortable, and Mito rubbed her arms, trying to warm them from the shivers. "Is that what you honestly think?" Touka asked quietly, scrutinizing mercilessly.
Mito's eyes darted back and forth with uncertainty. Her first instinct was to fervently declare 'yes,' but Touka's severity stalled her, and she choked on the word. Touka obviously didn't think that the war was over, and Touka was one of the few people that Mito knew she could trust. However, even if her answer was one that Touka didn't like, Mito knew innately she needed to be honest. "Yes," she responded meekly, sure that that was what she felt, but also sure that her answer was wrong.
Touka loosed a disappointed sigh and settled back on her heels, crossing her arms. "I see we have work to do," Touka grumbled. "Lesson one: a kunoichi is always at war. Peace is an illusion, a break between wars. Nothing more. When the next one comes, the men will be shocked, unprepared, and grim. The kunoichi anticipates the next war, always. It might be upon us next week, or ten years from now, but one thing I can tell you for certain… there will always be another war, and the kunoichi, above all things, must be prepared for anything… war most of all." She emphasized that last phrase, driving her point home.
Mito recalled what she knew about the ferocity of both Uchiha and Senju and shivered. Would she be prepared, if those two clans were to fight each other again? She took several deep breaths, trying to calm her beating heart. "What you say makes sense, Senj—Touka-kun," she stated solemnly. "I will keep it in mind."
"See that you do," the other woman clipped. "Lesson two: the first person that needs your protection is yourself. You cannot hope to save anyone if you can't first save yourself. Self-sacrifice is strictly forbidden. Dying to save another is for the idiot male Shinobi. This is what they believe they were born for: to die in the heat of the battle. To be remembered by having their name scratched on a rock somewhere, immortalized for deeds of glory, outshining their peers. Kunoichi protect, they do not seek to be remembered. They seek to live, and to be forgotten so that they may continue to live. Only by living can you continue to protect."
Mito nodded, her brows creased in concentration. Lesson two made perfect sense; by nature, Uzumaki Mito was already protective.
"Lesson three. There are no rules, morals, codes of conduct, regulations, whatever-" she made a slicing motion with her hand "-that take precedence over the people that you protect. You break any rule you have to to ensure mission success. Assassination, seduction, deception, sleight of hand, treachery… these are a kunoichi's most important weapons. There is no mission that a kunoichi can complete with a blade that she could not have completed without one."
Mito frowned. That one, she wasn't so on track with. "I have my morals, Touka-kun," Mito stated with concern. "They are important to me."
Touka smiled sadly. "There will come a day, Uzumaki-sama, that you will have to choose between your honor and those you love. I pray that it won't come soon, but will you be ready for it?"
Mito didn't have an answer for that.