For the first time in three years, Hiroko felt as though she could breathe. The suffocating feeling was gone from her lungs as the sky opened up before her, clear and beautiful. A breeze played with her hair and tugged the hem of her tunic, bringing a smile to her face and filling her heart with elation. The smell of water and rice fields and the forest greenery was all around her and the sight of sunshine through the leaves was enough to bring her to tears.
As she took her first steps into the outside world, Hiroko wished that Mayuri could be there with her. Her sister had always loved the sun.
Orochimaru had paused beside her, his sharp eyes scanning the road before them. There was a long moment of silence as he worked out whatever plans and thoughts were forming inside his head. Then he leapt into motion without so much as a word.
Hiroko cursed and dashed after him, desperate to keep up. She didn't know where they were going or why he had taken her out of the village, but the last thing she wanted was to be left behind. If she couldn't prove herself now, then her request wouldn't be granted and her plan would never work.
Orochimaru took to the trees and trepidation curled in her chest. They hadn't covered that particular skill in their shinobi classes yet. They had practiced some of the finer points of chakra control, pressing pebbles and droplets of water to their heads and trying to keep them there with chakra alone. They had tried to scale the walls of the caverns, jumped from stalactites and stalagmites while the rest of the class cheered when pieces exploded as someone applied too much chakra. Trees weren't exactly accessible when you lived underground, though. Leaping through the treetops like some kind of monkey on steroids was going to be difficult without at least a bit of practice.
So instead of trying, Hiroko stayed on the ground. She kept her eyes in front of her and the rest of her senses focused on tracking where Orochimaru was going. She knew he could hide his presence completely if he wanted to, but the fact that he hadn't made himself untraceable made her hopeful that she hadn't been written off as a total failure just yet.
They continued on like that until the first village came into sight, its tiny houses just barely visible through the trees. Orochimaru slowed, and Hiroko matched his pace gratefully. Her legs were burning and she could barely breathe, but she had managed to keep up with him.
He dropped from the treetops to land on the path before her, and she was a little miffed to see that he wasn't even sweating and his hair was still perfect. He smiled at her as she tried not to glare.
"The pace will be relentless," he told her, teeth bared and golden eyes shining. "Do you truly believe you can keep up?"
Hiroko gritted her teeth. He was waiting for her to give up, to admit defeat and turn back towards Otogakure with her tail between her legs. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction. She didn't know if she or Mayuri could afford for her to back down.
"I'll figure out how to follow you through the trees," she told him, chin raised high and mismatched eyes narrowed, confident despite the way her words came out in breathless little gasps. Orochimaru watched her for a second, eyes raking over her features in a way that made her want to hide herself. Then, his smile widened.
"Very well, my dear."
Orochimaru allowed her a few hours to figure out how to navigate through the treetops, moving slower than necessary so she wouldn't lose him. Hiroko had already had the basics of chakra control down, both from the academy's lessons and her private ones with Yuki-sensei. Chakra control was an integral part of her abilities, she scolded herself, and if she could learn to wield it to control ice and create seals then she could certainly learn to use it to jump through the trees.
She left behind a trail of shattered branches and ice-covered leaves, crystalline despite the warmth of the sun. She would catch Orochimaru staring sometimes when she had to pause to adjust her chakra output. The gleam in his eyes as he watched her wasn't quite pride – it was hungry and possessive, sending shivers down her spine – but he wasn't angry or disappointed, so she counted it as a win. His lips stretched into a too-wide smile as he watched her, the kind of look that made a creeping feeling of wrongness curl inside her gut and made her wonder if she had made a costly mistake. She met his eyes and smiled back at him.
They traveled close to the civilians' roads for half a day. Sometimes Hiroko would catch sight of bright patches of color through the branches, merchants' caravans and farmers coming home from a hard day's work. It was a sudden, dizzying reminder that there was a world outside Otogakure's walls. For the first time since she had awakened into this life, she had proof that there were people who lived their lives outside of Orochimaru's control.
There was no wall or any sort of marker to indicate that they had crossed the border of Rice Patty Country, but Orochimaru paused regardless. A quick hand signal told Hiroko to stop, as well. His sharp eyes scanned the path below and the treetops above, searching for threats. When none were found, Orochimaru flickered into the branches adjacent to her.
She met his gaze, searching for some clue to what he was thinking and hoping that she had been deemed good enough to continue onwards. He stared back, golden eyes cold and unblinking, and the breeze ruffled his perfect hair. The leaves fluttered all around him, sunlight and shadows taking turns dancing over his features. Even in the bright light of day, Orochimaru looked like some otherworldly being from whispered tales of beautiful spirits and fearful demons. Even though her chakra had been unsealed, Hiroko felt a chill climb her spine.
Then, without a word, he continued on.
When she saw a sunset for the first time in this life, her tears stopped her in her tracks. Orochimaru had waited patiently, silently, and it had been hard not to feel a little bit grateful to him. She knew that was how he reeled his victims in—with small favors and feigned kindnesses. She tried her best not to allow herself to be drawn into his web yet again.
Their pace began to pick up. Their path through the treetops began straying further from the beaten path and deeper into the trees. It was harder to keep up, but he had not yet left her kept up the relentless push forward far into the night. She sent out a silent thanks for the time she spent training her chakra and her abilities with her various instructors. There was no way she would have been able to even begin keeping up with the Otokage without that extra training, even if he was making allowances for her inexperience.
She discovered quickly that three years living underground had adjusted her eyes quite nicely for travelling by nothing more than the silver glow of the moon. Or maybe that was just the chakra she could feel pulsing through her veins and throbbing at the backs of her eyes, pushing her forward like adrenaline.
They had to pause again when the sun rose the next morning, and Hiroko found herself crying all over again.
They travelled without stopping until they reached the borders of Fire Country, skirting towns and avoiding well travelled roads in order to stay away from any potential enemies. At the cusp between Fire Country land and Water Country sea, there was a small dinghy waiting for them, manned by a disgruntled looking old woman. The second they boarded, Hiroko let herself collapse to the wet floor.
Every muscle in her body was crying out. She felt like her chakra itself was throbbing with exhaustion. She had gone longer without sleep, but this was the first time she had pushed her body to its limits like she had over the last few days.
As the little boat was pushed from the shore, Hiroko caught Orochimaru's eye. The look she gave him, sprawled out on the ground with sweat and seawater mingling on her skin, was imploring. He huffed out a soft breath, almost a laugh.
"If you wish to rest, now would be the best time to do so, child," he conceded. Hiroko could have cried with relief at his words.
"If I fall asleep, will I wake up to find that you've left me behind?" she asked, suspicion not quite masked by her joking tone. She didn't get an answer, but after a minute of deliberation decided that a nap was worth the risk. She wouldn't be able to continue on, otherwise.
She didn't trust him, but she figured that Orochimaru wouldn't have spent years of resources on her and wouldn't have dragged her all the way out here just to kill or abandon her. With the gentle motion of the boat and the sound of water all around her, Hiroko was asleep within seconds.
Water Country was just how she remembered it through her hazy, second-hand memories. The trees were twisted and pale, but grew tall and strong regardless. The foliage was lush with the springtime weather, flowers pushing their way through the dirt despite the weakness of the sunlight. And, of course, there was the mist.
It covered everything, thick and heavy and reeking of chakra. It made the skin on the back of her neck prickle and obscured anything more than a handful of yards away. Even so, there was something almost comforting about the way the mist draped over the land, the familiarity of it tickling at her basest instincts like a child remembering their baby blanket.
She had never been outside of the clan compound, but she recognized the land just the same. It smelled like she remembered, of seawater and rotting wood and blooming flower fields and just a hint of blood beneath it all. Even though her final memory of this place was of her own death, Hiroko couldn't help the nostalgic smile that twitched at the corners of her lips. There were bad memories associated with this country, but they were drowned out by the memories of the warmth of a home and family long lost.
They wandered Water Country for a few days, stopping into small civilian towns and merchants' caravans, though never for more than a few hours before they moved on to the next. Hiroko didn't understand at first, but by the second day she figured out that they weren't just wandering at random, but were instead gathering information. When he sent her out on her own on the third day, she was nervous, anxiety eating at her insides. Hiroko was unused to talking to strangers after spending the last three years of her life in the company of the same hundred familiar faces, but she eventually got back into the swing of things.
She knew she was an attractive child, and when Orochimaru left her on her own she just had to smile sweetly and ask her questions with wide eyes and a careful lie on her tongue. They were always answered, in one way or another. It was easy to get enough pieces to string together into a whole story, once she figured out where to look.
They had visited a large and thriving port city, and the bustle and noise had been as overwhelming as it was wonderful. Even after nearly a week of being outside of the village, she was still amazed by the many joys that could be found in the world. She was still in awe of the fact that, for the first time since she had awoken into this life, she felt like she could actually breathe. The suffocating feeling in her lungs was finally gone.
Seeing the skyline over the ocean opening up before her for the first time had been one of the most incredible moments of either life. Despite the mist, the ocean still glimmered with each cresting wave and the bits of sky she could see between the clouds were a brilliant blue. It was beautiful and endless in a way she hadn't believed was possible in this world. For three years, it held felt like there was no world outside of the underground tunnels that made up Otogakure. She was glad that the ocean here was still as endless as it was in her other world; it made her feel small in the best way possible.
They settled in a shipping village a few kilometers outside of Kirigakure. Orochimaru left her in an inn, along with the majority of their supplies. He changed into a kimono, elegant and flowing enough that it would hide the weapons hidden within the folds of his sleeves. Hiroko sat on the bed and watched him comb his hair out, the long strands silky and beautiful in the glow of the evening sun.
She ran her fingers through her own course hair and frowned.
"You have 24 hours to figure out why we are here, Hiroko-chan," he told her. "The information already gathered should help you make your deduction."
Hiroko nodded, and he smiled at her before he turned his attention to layering a coat of venomous polish over his nails. "They're pretty." Her voice was almost a whisper as she watched them shimmer deep purple.
He waited for them to dry, watching out the window as the villagers went about their day. Then he gathered up his supplies, tucking them away in a scroll and securing it beneath his obi. Despite the grueling pace he had set just hours before, he seemed to be unconcerned with the seconds now passing by. As he readied to leave he paused in the doorway, looking back at her thoughtfully. She stared back, willing her spine to remain iron and her eyes to keep their steely shine. His lips curled up into a parody of a smile at the sight.
"If anyone learns who you are, you will be killed," he said. "Do not disappoint me, dear."
"I won't, my lord. I'll be here when you return." She stood, and bowed low. Her voice did not quiver despite the threat in his words. When she looked up again, he was gone.
Hiroko waited for a long moment, half expecting that the Otokage would come back through the door or appear on the windowsill any second to announce that this had all been some kind of cruel joke. She was too young, too inexperienced. This entire outing was nothing more than a way to show her that she wasn't ready to leave the village yet and they would be going back any moment, the bittersweet taste of bloody mist lingering in her mouth as some kind of cruel reminder of what she had lost and what had been done to her and her family. A week wasted, time that she could have been using to try to find more ways to free her sister from whatever hell she was living back in Otogakure.
She let herself sag to the bed, face buried in her hands. Hiroko focused on taking deep breaths, on letting the slowly welling panic drain from her body before it could fully take hold. It was ridiculous to think that Orochimaru would go to this much trouble, would cross enemy borders and spend days traveling, just so he could watch her squirm.
Everything was a test, of course. She had asked to be allowed to leave the village and had been given the opportunity to prove herself, so of course Orochimaru would want to test her abilities before giving her the okay to take Mayuri and flee from the caves of Otogakure. She just had to do what she had been asked and to pass his tests, and then (hopefully) she would be one step closer to getting her sister away from the darkness that had taken root inside of her.
Hiroko allowed herself another few moments to gather her thoughts and calm her nerves. She could do this, whatever "this" would entail.
The kimono that had been left for her was pretty, but plain. The kind of thing that wouldn't stick out on the streets of a bustling Water Country city. She fumbled with the obi, trying to recall how her mother used to tie hers but only finding images of Orochimaru's deft fingers flying across the fabric of his own kimono. It was scary, how she would sometimes try to find memories of people she had cared about, only for them to have disappeared. It was like that other life had never existed at all.
She did her hair, pulling the thick black waves up into a bun and hiding a retractable blade inside the bundle. Senbon were tucked away in her sleeves, hidden by the folds of fabric. She stood by the mirror and made a few quick movements to assure herself that they would stay in place and that her sleeves didn't bunch or move oddly.
Satisfied, she sealed the extra supplies away and hid the scroll beneath the mattress. Then she headed out, locking the door behind her.
In another life, she had loved big cities. She had given up everything just for the chance to make it in one, far away from her family and the life she had known. Now, though, the sight of so many strangers made her heart feel like it was twisting inside her chest. She had grown so used to the same faces day in and day out, of knowing each and every person she passed in Otogakure's passages, that seeing so many people she didn't know left her feeling anxious instead of exhilarated.
After wandering the streets for about an hour, Hiroko managed to gather the nerve to yet again begin trying to make conversation. The attempts were stilted at first, the lingering effects of three years underground with the same people, but she was able to pass it off as being shy. The shopkeepers and merchants she spoke with were generally friendly enough and it wasn't long before she found herself sliding into the swing of conversation and information gathering.
Hiroko knew that she was an attractive child, even with her mismatched eyes and sun deprived skin. If she smiled sweetly and spoke softly and batted her eyelashes, it was easy enough to get people to relax around her. It wasn't hard to spin a tale about why she was in town, why she was alone, why she was asking so many questions. Civilians were so quick to believe a lie if it came wrapped in a pretty kimono.
Within the first 12 hours she learned that the citizens of this city were on edge because a dangerous clan lived just 50 klicks North, and Kirigakure lay somewhere to the South. There were whispers of tension, of the clans being tired of being ostracized and hunted. It was a mix of terror and excitement shining in the eyes of the merchants who leaned close and told her to be careful wandering about on her own, a pretty little thing like her.
(She wondered how they managed to miss the family resemblance.)
She came back to the inn long after the sky had turned dark, ignoring the eyes that lingered on her as she trapaised through the more dangerous parts of the city. She was satisfied with her work so far, and planned to gather up the last bits of information she would need to turn the pieces she had gathered into a full picture. As it turned out, though, she didn't need the full 24 hours before the reason for their being in Water Country came to light.
It was nearing midnight when the shouts came from the streets, rousing her from her light sleep. The moon outside was full, bathing the hotel room in its silvery glow. She grabbed the tanto that was stashed beneath the pillow and made sure the holster containing her senbon was secured to her forearm before slinking to the window to peer out at the source of the commotion.
There were figures running through the streets, leaving destruction in their wake. People were beginning to awaken and sense the danger. Screams were rising into the air, echoing through the alleyways and off the tall buildings, trapped before they could make it to the sky above.
One of the figures turned, looking up at her window. She caught the way their eyes widened and shone, moonlight trapped within dark irises. The smile on their face, already stretched so wide it looked painful, fell and then rose again, stretching wider. She shuddered and backed away from the window.
She recognized that person. She knew the crazed look in their eye and the horrible smile all too well. She had seen it more times than she could count, during each and every instance of cruelty this body had faced before it had died and she had come along to steal it away before the original soul could reclaim it. She knew her relatives when she saw them.
Hiroko swallowed down the rising panic, forced herself to take deep breaths, and distantly marvelled at how much better she was getting at dealing with oncoming panic attacks.
Just breathe.
Breathe, and find something else to focus on. Try not to disappear into the panic, into the horror and the fear that was growing in her chest, sitting upon her shoulders and settling into her throat. Don't think about the way it felt when men three times her size were kicking and hitting, breaking bones, collapsing lungs, cracking ribs and skulls and gauging out her eye oh gods—
Hiroko couldn't breathe.
(Shuddering gasps. Another pill chased by another drink. A sob that wracks her whole body and makes her chest ache.
It's been two years since her sister died. She's had four phone calls and fifteen people posting their condolences on her facebook page. Her mom tells her that she shouldn't be alone today, but Elle doesn't have anyone here that knows about Avery. It's not exactly something she likes talking about.
She takes a pull from the lip of the bottle, ignoring the broken glass beside her and the pills she had spilled all over the kitchen floor. Her hands won't stop shaking. She can't remember how many she's taken, but obviously it hasn't been enough.
Avery's memorial page is overflowing with people posting pictures, or leaving nice little notes and sweet memories. Some have made her smile despite herself, eyes burning and chest hollow. She doesn't respond to a single comment left on the page, knowing that if she tried her words would be acid. Elle hadn't seen a single one of those people at her sister's funeral.
"You don't miss her," she mumbles, eyes scanning blurrily over the screen of her phone. She lets it drop from her fingertips to clatter to the floor. She hears the screen crack. She thumps her head against the cabinet behind her, slow and hard, but she barely feels the sting of it. She wishes she did. "You didn't even know her."
She hasn't been able to catch her breath in hours. Every time she thinks she might be alright, another thought or memory or "what if" comes to mind and she finds herself on the floor once again, clutching her chest and sobbing. She hates it and she hates herself. Most of all, she hates the person who took her sister from her.
If she could find them, she knows without the shadow of a doubt that she would kill them for doing this to her, and to her family. She would kill them even though it wouldn't bring Avery back.
Elle lays down on the cold floor, curled up in a bed of pills and a puddle of whatever kind of alcohol she had had on hand. Outside, the sounds of the city continue on. Sirens wail in the distance and the upstairs neighbors are arguing again.
It isn't fair that life continues on all around her, but on this day she feels like everything should have frozen the day her sister died.
She is as old as Avery had been. The thought makes her stomach lurch.
Bile crawls up her throat.
The world around her begins to fade.
She can't breathe.)
She wasn't sure when she had ended up on the floor, head between her knees and fingernails digging gauges into the delicate skin beneath her eye. The exposed points of the senbon were digging into her forearm, tiny pinpricks of blood welling and staining the white of her sleepshirt.
As the hollers and war cries went on outside her window, the screams of civilians filled the empty spaces between buildings. She heard the yells, the laughter, the instructions shouted in a voice she recognized only from her secondhand memories. She knew where they were going and why.
She wasn't sure why she stood from her spot upon the floor, legs shaking and fingernails bloodied, and began to gather up the contents of their room. Everything was sealed away within minutes. Her shoes were slipped on and her weapons secured within easy reach. She didn't bother giving the room a last look as she slipped out the window, chakra pooling in her legs and strengthening her joints. She dropped the ten meters to the ground below, her landing light enough that she barely even displaced the dust that coated the road, now sticky with blood.
She trembled at the handful of bodies that her clan had left in their wake, but did not slow. She followed the destruction like someone trapped within a dream, uncertain why she was marching forward but unable to stop herself. She followed her family like the ghost she was, white nightshirt fluttering around her thighs and the wind tangling her long black hair. She wasn't sure whether she intended to help or to haunt, she simply felt herself drawn to follow and see what was about to happen to the clan that had not hesitated to murder their own children.
It took her longer than she had expected to catch up to them. Hiroko had not been rushing forward with a hunter's drive. She followed on trembling legs, scared but determined to see it through. By the time she reached the site of the fighting though, it had become less of a battle and more of a massacre.
That was to be expected. She was surprised, though, by who was on the losing side. For those first few years of her life she had viewed the Kaguya as strong, unbeatable, monstrous warriors. They moved through the world without regard for the lives of others, with the kind of bloodlust that was unique to the ancient and noble clans of Kirigakure. She had thought them untouchable.
Hiroko sank to her knees on the cliffside that overlooked the slaughter. She felt herself tremble, felt her jaw lock and her stomach churn. Her fingernails bit into the calloused flesh of her palms and the rocks dug into the tender skin of her legs, but it was all distant and muted. She watched the fighting with glassy eyes, waiting for the end. She should have felt satisfaction as she watched the clansmen who laughed as they slaughtered children fall to the ground, chilling smiles contorting their faces even as the blood pooled beneath them.. There should have been sorrow as she watched the few family members who had nurtured and cared for her collapse, limbs missing and blood staining their teeth as they grinned at the night sky. Was pity the appropriate thing to feel as she saw men and women and children fall to her family's hand?
There was nothing inside her but a hollow, lingering apathy.
The fires burning throughout the village cut through the mist, giving her a clear view from her elevated position. She stayed there through the night, keeping silent vigil as she watched the last of her dwindling clan fall to the overwhelming numbers of Kirigakure shinobi. By the time the sun had broken across the horizon, Hiroko was one of the last living members of the Kaguya clan.
Orochimaru found her when the sun was high in the sky, watching as the bodies of her clansmen were piled into a mass grave. Something in her gut seemed to tug. Half remembered faces flitted through her mind: A neighbor who smelled like vanilla and iron, an esteemed elder who would sit in the garden and watch the children play while she sharpened her weapons, a teenager who collected scraps of leftover leather to make tiny armor pieces for his cats. Even if the clan was the reason she and her sister had died in this life, there had still been good people and warm memories. The Kaguya had still been family.
She wondered how many families she would have to lose.
Orochimaru's hand fell to rest heavily upon the top of her head, fingers tangling in the wild black strands. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her, sleep mussed and empty eyed, a child watching death without fear or sorrow. The last of the Kaguya. The last of the Yuki. Special, but only because of her parents. Mayuri's little sister, protected and coddled while Mayuri bled and killed to keep the horrors of the world at bay.
Could he see just how broken she was?
She pushed the thought away; it didn't matter. She turned to look at him — taking in the glint of his eye and the sharp slash of his smile — and realized that she was not a priority anymore.
It took some time, but it wasn't hard to find the boy that Orochimaru was searching for. He had been on his own for a few days in a world he had never known, and it showed in the way he carved a path of destruction through the land. As they tracked him, Orochimaru told her what he knew of the child. He spun the tale of a boy locked away, never seeing the sun or knowing love, feared because of an ability he had never asked for.
Hiroko had to bite her tongue to resist the urge to make comparisons and spit words that she would be made to regret. Instead, she asked questions and made careful observations. She wondered what he had been doing for food, for shelter and warmth, and how he lived when he wasn't taking out his confusion and frustration on the innocent plant life. She told Orochimaru how much happier she thought this boy would be, living in a village that would accept him. (She wasn't sure if she was lying or not.)
When they tracked him down at last, he wasn't alone.
Walking into the clearing, seeing two small figures made hazy by the mist, it was like she was looking at Mayuri and herself. She was pretty sure that this was what having an out of body experience was like. The two children looked almost startlingly like them, and she found herself freezing as she tried to process what she was seeing.
The Kaguya boy they were tracking stood just a handful of meters away from the strangers, his clothes tattered and splattered with blood. She took quick note of the man, the hitai-ate on his head and the grey flak jacket he wore. Her attention was quickly drawn to the child by his side.
There was a tense silence, the two men eyeing one another with cold expressions and the children looking between their respective adults with wide eyed uncertainty. The man's hand found its way to the dark haired child, landing heavily on their shoulder and squeezing. Hiroko watched the green material of their top bunch beneath the pressure, saw the man's knuckles turn white as he squeezed. The child didn't so much as flinch.
Orochimaru's hand fell upon her own shoulder, but he did not squeeze. It was enough to shake her from her surprise, but not enough to ease the tension in her muscles. Hiroko could not pull her gaze away from the dark haired child across from her, and they in turn seemed just as entranced.
The boy they were seeking stood between the two pairs, his gaze darting between the mirror images with wide eyes and pursed lips, like he wasn't sure if he should run or stay still and hope that he wasn't noticed. He didn't seem to realize that he was the one that they were there for. Hiroko wondered if he realized how valuable he had become with the fall of his clan. After all, now there were only three Kaguya left in the world. Of them, only two possessed the kekkei genkai that Orochimaru desired and the rest of Water Country feared.
And the third….
Hiroko took in the color of the other child's hair, the shape of their eyes and face, and the fullness of their lips. She had seen those features every time she looked in a mirror for the past three years. She knew that she was facing not one, but two family members.
And she couldn't save either of them from whatever fate awaited them in this world.
Hiroko broke eye contact with the child, teeth sinking into her lip to keep the frost she felt forming at her fingertips at bay. The Yuki child blinked at her and shuffled a step closer to the man they were with. In turn, the Kaguya boy turned his attention towards Hiroko and Orochimaru, green eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Who are you?" he asked, and Hiroko was struck by the careful way he spoke, like he wasn't used to the feeling of words in his mouth. He brushed a lock of white hair out of his eyes, and Hiroko felt a twinge in her chest at how much he reminded her of Mayuri.
She missed her sister.
"We are here to make you an offer, my child," Orochimaru said, his voice low and hypnotic. His attention seemed to be focused entirely on Kimimaro, but when she allowed the chakra she felt singing in her veins to come alive and slow the world around her down, it was easy to catch the way his eyes darted towards the pair sharing the clearing with them.
The man across from them snorted. Orochimaru didn't acknowledge him, but Hiroko couldn't help but look again. For the first time, she really took the time to look him over. She hadn't been worried, mostly because Orochimaru hadn't been, and on top of that she had been way too focused on the fact that she was face-to-face with who she assumed were the last of both of her clans. The man had been deemed unimportant in the face of that fact.
His face was hidden by bandages, obscuring any immediate ways to identify him. He was tall and muscular, but skinny in the malnourished way most Water Country citizens were. He wore the standard Kiri jounin uniform and his Kiri hitai-ate was displayed proudly across his forehead, but the packs on his back and the child he had with him told a different story. There was nothing about him that stood out, nothing that would differentiate him from any other Water Country shinobi. Nothing except….
Her eyes found the sword on his back and her mouth dropped open. She recognized this man now. She had heard stories about him, growing up in the Kaguya clan's compound. Her relatives valued a warrior's spirit, and this man was known as a demon and a legend even within a clan of killers like the Kaguya. And, though it was hazy and distorted, she recognized him from another world altogether.
She had never gotten very far in the series, but she remembered the battle on the bridge well enough. She remembered the boy who had told Naruto about precious people, and she knew that she had cried when he died trying to save his loved one. Looking between them now, there was no doubt who they were.
"You're Momochi Zabuza," she murmured, her voice hanging stagnant in the misty air between them. She could feel the attention shifting to her, the man's narrow eyes sharp and curious. "And Yuki—"
Orochimaru's hand tightened on her shoulder, his grip strong enough to hurt. She had to bite back the gasp that wanted to escape her lips as his fingers dug into muscle and tendon, only a twitch away from breaking bones. When she dared to glance up at him, she saw that the enchanting smile on his face had never wavered.
"You know me, girl?" Zabuza rumbled, his gaze trained only on her. His Kiri accent was stronger than the ones she had heard in the halls of Otogakure, the sign of someone who had spent time on the streets instead of in an academy. None of the Water Country citizens that roamed the halls of Otogakure sounded like that.
"I've heard your name around." She did not elaborate, and was relieved when the grip on her shoulder slowly began to loosen. She could feel Zabuza's eyes on her, moving slowly over her form, taking in each tiny detail in the way only shinobi could. She saw his dark eyes go wide.
"You're Yuki," he said, almost an accusation. Haku went stiff, his eyes shining as they locked onto her, obviously seeking to find what his guardian had seen.
She hesitated, weighing her options. She could stay quiet and docile at Orochimaru's side, show him she could follow orders and fall back. Would that be enough to convince him to accept her proposition?
No, she didn't think it would be. She needed to show him that she could take charge, that she could lead a mission and improvise when needed.
Hiroko squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and made her decision.
"Yes," Hiroko said, and felt Orochimaru's grip tighten once more. She resisted the urge to shrug his hand off her shoulder, growing irritated with the way he was hovering. The Kaguya boy was still staring, wide eyed, like he didn't know what to make of them. He was distant and wary, like a stray cat who had been spat at too many times. She met his eye, and she smiled the same smile she gave her sister when she lied about being okay. "But I am Kaguya, too."
It was almost funny to see the same look of surprise across three different faces. Orochimaru's expression had remained calm and open, inviting in a way that could only be a farce. He was waiting to see what Zabuza and Haku would do, and how the Kaguya boy would react to the news that she was a part of the clan that had locked him away and who he had thought had been totally destroyed. Orochimaru was a schemer, and he was already coming up with ways to turn this encounter to his advantage.
If she was lucky, it would work out in their favor. If she wasn't...well, if she messed this up, she suspected that there was a good chance that her sister would be stuck in that hellhole for the rest of her short life, and Hiroko herself would be killed the second Orochimaru got his hands on another child with the Hyoton kekkei genkai.
She wondered if Zabuza would fight to the death to keep Haku by his side, even now, before the boy had proven himself a useful tool. Seeing the way that the man kept his ward close by his side, she suspected that he might. It made her feel a little better to know that at least one of her family members might have found someone to truly care for them, no matter how gruff or harsh he might be. She doubted he would be able to save Haku from Orochimaru though, if the sannin really wanted him.
"I know what you've been through," she said, her gaze set on Kimimaro. His eyes were wide and wet, and she felt her heart twist at how young he was. He was just a child, open and vulnerable, and she was preparing to lead him straight into a pit of snakes. She took a breath, and continued on anyways. "I know what you've been through, because I've suffered at the hands of our clan, too."
Kimimaro's lip trembled. "You don't know anything," he snarled, one hand clenched tightly around the sharpened bone in his hand. Hiroko remembered the empty look in her sister's eyes as she held a similar weapon in her hand, not hesitating to kill the child laid out helplessly before her.
For Mayuri, Hiroko told herself. She smiled and held out a hand to the boy.
"I know. I know how it feels to be alone and scared."
(Lies, her mind whispered. You were never alone. You always had your big sister.)
Kimimaro's hand slowly lowered, the tip of his weapon dropping. His lower lip trembled. She wished that the hand on her shoulder would tighten and crush her arm. She deserved it.
(But no, that wasn't right. Not always. There had been a time where Avery was dead, and Elle was left without a big sister. Why did that time seem so far away?)
"Our own family didn't want me around. They tried to kill me and my sister. Orochimaru-sama, though…. He brought us home with him and we found a family that really cares. We found a place that would accept us." Her smile was stretched wide, wide, wide enough to hurt. Kimimaro's green eyes glistened with some emotion she did not want to name, his white hair swayed as he shifted his weight, and Hiroko wanted to scream at the loneliness she felt building inside her chest. "If you come with us, we can show you that place."
She couldn't bring herself to look across the clearing to Zabuza and Haku. She felt fragile and pathetic; a glass relic seconds away from crumbling or an ice sculpture halfway to water. Orochimaru's hand slipped from her shoulder at last, and he stepped forward as the first tear traced its way down Kimimaro's dirty face.
"There are beautiful things in this world, if you only stop to look for them." His voice drifted through the clearing, soft and melodious. It entranced those listening, made them pause, hold their breath, desperate for more. "If you come with me, I can show you those things. I can give you a purpose."
Hiroko schooled her face into a careful mask, hiding the derisive scowl her lips wanted to curl into. She couldn't bear the sight of Kimimaro's smile, his shining eyes, his flushed cheeks. She looked away, and in the process found herself locking eyes with the man across the clearing.
Zabuza's attention had not wavered. Even with one of the legendary sannin standing just a handful of meters away, he still had not torn his eyes away from Hiroko. She felt a shudder climb her spine, but somehow managed to meet his stare evenly. With the mood she was in it was easy to match him glare for glare, though she suspected that her glare resembled a surly pout more than anything else. It was one of the unfortunate side effects of being six and adorable.
She didn't tear her gaze away even as Kimimaro moved forward, brushing against her as he did so. His skin was warm enough to burn her even through their clothes. There was frost gathering on the hems of her sleeves.
Zabuza's hand tightened on Haku's shoulder. The other twitched towards the hilt of his sword. His eyes were hungry.
"We're leaving," Orochimaru announced, cutting through the tension. His voice was soft, but firm in a way that brokered no arguments. "Kimimaro-kun. Hiroko-chan. Let's go home."
Hiroko heard Kimimaro repeat the word below his breath, soft and reverent. Hiroko wondered if he would be disappointed that his new home was just another cage cut off from the outside world. The poor boy just couldn't seem to get away.
Hiroko backed up, not yet taking her eyes off the pair across from them. Zabuza's eyes were darting between the three of them, his brow creased like he was trying to make a difficult decision. She supposed that it was probably hard to decide whether or not to attack a legendary sannin and the two volatile and powerful children with him. He wanted the power he could gain from what he assumed were two young and easily malleable children, but he wasn't willing to risk his life for it. She scoffed, a cruel little smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
She brushed a few stray strands of hair away from her face and looked to Haku. He stared back, mirroring her movements. It was almost disturbing how much of herself she could see in him. The strange, sudden urge to say something came over her. Some part of her wanted him to come along, too, and she hated herself for it. She smiled, showing too many teeth, and he shrunk back.
"Well?" she sang, voice rasping slightly. Haku stared back unblinkingly, confusion evident in his expression. "Are you coming, dear little cousin of mine?"
Zabuza snarled, stepping forward to hide Haku from view. Still, the boy peeked out from behind him. His big doe eyes were almost as curious as they were wary. His little hands wrapped around Zabuza's arm, holding tight, like a murderer's bicep was just as comforting as a teddy bear would be. Zabuza didn't shake him off even as he drew his sword.
Do it, she thought. Hurt me. Kill me. Kill all of us, right here. Right now. We all deserve it, don't we?
Hiroko lingered another moment, expectant smile stretched too wide across her features. Orochimaru did not wait for her, though he did make enough noise as he disappeared into the brush that she knew it had to be intentional. It was nice of him to give her a path to follow.
Finally, Haku shook his head. His voice was a tiny little thing, light as a butterfly's wing as he said, "No. I want to stay with Zabuza-san." He was surprisingly firm, despite the way his lower lip trembled. Hiroko's smile softened. She bobbed her head.
"Maybe next time, yeah? See you then Haku, Zabuza."
They stared as she gave a jaunty little wave and flipped away, disappearing into the woods as she chased after Orochimaru. He hadn't gone far, seeming fairly confident that Zabuza wouldn't risk pursuing them. Hiroko had to agree with that assessment; the gain of another child-weapon or two wasn't worth fighting a sannin or losing the child that he already had.
Maybe another time.
She fell into step beside Orochimaru. Their feet made no sound as they moved through the forest, birds and animals falling silent in their wake. Kimimaro ran ahead of them, stopping to examine the plant life and then turning to smile at them over his shoulder, eyes bright with excitement. He waved shyly when he saw Hiroko had taken her place by Orochimaru's side. She waved back, smile bright but eyes distant.
"That was a dangerous game you were playing," Orochimaru said, low enough that the boy darting excitedly before them would not overhear. Hiroko shrugged.
"I figured I might as well see if I could get the whole set for you."
She didn't have to look to know that the smile that split his face was pleased.
"An interesting request, wouldn't you say?" Orochimaru murmured, the sound buzzing and hollow through the projection. It flickered, his form shadowed but eyes bright and clear.
Kabuto hummed, not bothering to turn towards the flickering form in the corner of the room. He was sitting at the Otokage's desk, sorting through the stacks of paperwork that had been piling up since the sannin had joined the Akatsuki. There was only so much that Orochimaru could do during the brief times he returned to the village, and Kabuto didn't mind helping out where he could. It was a nice bonus to be able to delegate what missions the village took while going through the reports and data statements without worry of looking suspicious.
"I'm not sure it's such a strange thing to request, actually." Kabuto flipped open the newest mission report, scanning over it as he spoke. Deft fingers turned page after page of stolen information. "Those two have been well beyond what basic academy lessons could teach them for a while now. They've never had much luck making friends their own age, so their only role models are adults instead of peers. They see you and I coming and going frequently enough. It was only a matter of time before they got bored and requested to leave the village to carry out missions."
"You expected this." Orochimaru's voice was light and teasing, but there was an edge to it that could only be heard by those already looking for it.
"I suspected," Kabuto corrected, tossing a file into the garbage can beside the Otokage's desk. "Although I didn't think we'd be hearing one of them asking for a few years yet."
"Is that so?"
Kabuto nodded, glasses slipping down his nose slightly with the motion. He frowned and took them off, smoothing back a few strands of hair that had been tickling his nose. Setting them aside, he moved on to the next file, squinting down at the messy handwriting as he tried to decipher what it said.
Orochimaru hummed and the golden eyes of the hologram curved as he smiled, unseen. "In that case, what would you propose we do, Kabuto-kun?"
The boy knew a test when he was presented with one. He wet his lips before speaking, slow, careful, but with the kind of confidence that came with time and experience. "I think that we should grant Hiroko-chan her wish."
"And why is that?"
"She and her sister will have both become disillusioned by now. There is nothing more that the academy can truly teach them at this point and they have both seen the darker side of this village. I think that the best remedy is to give them a break from it. Send them out into the world, let them see that they will always be outsiders no matter where they go, and that there is a darker underbelly to every village in the world. Otogakure is the only place they have ever known that has treated them with kindness — they'll want to come back once they realize that everywhere is the same in the end."
"The devil you know," Orochimaru murmured, and Kabuto could practically hear the poison in his words. There was satisfaction there, and Kabuto's lips twitched towards the beginnings of a smile. He had passed the test.
"There's a request from a merchant in Grass," Kabuto began, deft fingers searching through the piles of files on the desk. "I believe that they would be a good fit—"
"Send them to Konoha."
Kabuto froze, the file dropping from his fingertips back to the desk. The report slipped from the manilla folder and the loose sheets of paper fluttered to the floor.
"I'm sorry?"
"That village has grown complicit. Lazy." The hologram's eyes glinted, manic in a way that only happened when the Otokage spoke of the village he had left. "The Hokage will not look twice at two orphans asking for refuge."
Kabuto fought to hide his frown. For the first time in a while, he felt off balance and uncertain, losing the careful control of the conversation he had thought he had. Judging by the cruel smile that could only be seen through the curve of his eyes, Orochimaru knew very well just what was on Kabuto's mind.
The boy forced a smile and bowed low.
"As you wish, my lord."
Kabuto and his genin team turned in a mission report, eyes downcast. A merchant, his wife, and their children, living on the edge of Fire Country. The man had been worried about transporting their goods across the border and into neighboring countries, certain that he was being targeted by enemies to stop him from selling his specialized weapons. He had been just another weapon supplier in the eyes of a village as large as Konoha, but to the smaller shinobi villages, he had posed a threat.
A team had been deployed, genin being all that the merchant and his family could afford. Things had run smoothly for almost two weeks, allowing the family to make their way along their normal route. Then, without warning, the enemies had attacked. Genin weren't enough to hold them off.
Only the daughters had survived, though not without scars.
The Hokage listened calmly, hands steepled and expression unreadable. He accepted the report but did not bother to read through it any further. Failed missions were a mark upon Konoha's reputation, but from a nameless traveling merchant, the likelihood of any retaliation for their failure was low. The only notable thing from this particular mission was the growth of Kabuto's medical abilities, which had saved one of the survivors.
The genin team was excused and the file was tucked away and pushed to the back of the Hokage's mind. There were far more important things to focus on when running a village, after all.
A week later, two young girls entered into the village through the civilian entrance and requested an audience with the Hokage.