Butterflies: Solidarity

"Namiki Aya has nothing and no one. No one to come home to. No one to hold her when she cries. No reason to get out of bed, other than the nightmares. Not until her someone barges back into her life and says three words that change everything: I need you." Spin-off of Butterflies; AU. Yuri main character. Dark themes, suicidal ideation, depression, gore, and frisky nudity later on.

Warnings! This is a very real look into the depths of depression, into sexuality, and into working as an ANBU Operative. The main pairing is two OCs: Namiki Aya and Hyuuga Hitomi, both from Butterflies and The Butterfly Effect. Don't like? Don't read.

Chapter 29 – My Chances

8-8


"Can I talk to you?" I ask, feeling nervous for some reason. I shouldn't be. I know I can trust her with this, that she'll understand, that she'll be okay with it. And yet, the fear doesn't abate.

It's two in the morning, but I know she woke up when I went to the bathroom. I know she felt me leave our conjoined futons, carefully lain in the corner, away from the door. Instead of answering, she snuggles up to me, easing on to me and between my thighs—she has a thing with being able to touch me so intimately, even when we aren't being… doing… well, doing anything ecchi.

She peers up at me, lays her arms on my chest and sets her chin on one of them. I have her attention, no doubt. I cast a privacy jutsu.

"I didn't touch Shimura's people. Not yet," I begin. She doesn't react, just gazing at me, her eyes soft and warm. "I…"

I take a deep breath, shoving aside the stupid thought—it's not like wondering why I want to talk about this in the middle of the night is helping.

"I am targeting Shimura, yes. But my traps are set to trigger over the coming weeks." I pause, waiting to see if this is too much, too… too anything for her—it's already there for me, but I'm tired of never talking about this, tired of taking on the world solo.

No response. She just lies there with a gentle smile.

Sigh. "I know about Anbu Root. I know that he's behind most of Naruto's torment. And I know he's been itching to get his claws into both of us."

Again, only a smile.

"Jiraiya gave me a few books on Uzumaki style sealing. He taught me the basics, but after that it was on me." Not even a twitch. "So I've used tracking and sensory seals to monitor Shimura's organization. I've been keeping Hokage-dono up to date on his moves, though I was never able to discover much. So I tagged all of his people."

She doesn't interrupt, she isn't even acting as if she wants to. Just listening.

"It isn't anything fancy. Just an explosion note."

She chuckles this time, amused with it all.

"An underpowered one, though. Meant to kill only the Op tagged. I have them set to trigger in intervals. One every eight hours. The first is set for sunrise."

"Top down or bottom up?" she asks, the smile in her tone undeniable.

"Top down. Though it's set up to seem completely random, as if the attacker doesn't really know the hierarchy." A smile tugs at my lips. "The best part. They're designed to look like Fujiwara Seals, so anyone from the Land of Fire could be behind it. And he's made a lot of enemies in this country. He'll never be able to pin it on me. Doubly so, because I'm not in Konoha."

"And him not being able to openly admit they're his Ops?" She's been brought up to speed on things, it seems. Daddy's been at least as busy as Mi.

I grin. "That, too."

"He's going to retaliate anyway." I nod, agreeing that he'll try. "So how are we handling that?"

"We aren't. We'd be the shinobi victims of a crime. Anbu jurisdiction. And with you being an Op, with Hatake being an ex-Captain, with Hana and auntie Tsume? And our plans to start a rehabilitation centre for injured Ops?"

"Our compound would be the nerve centre for all Anbu traffic in the village. Smart."

It doesn't make us invulnerable, nothing will. But it places just one more hurdle—and considering Anbu have always been protective of their own, it'll be a BIIIIIIIG hurdle. "You were cold to Miwako."

"You're different," she changes the subject, obviously unwilling to get into that.

"Yes." There's no point in denying it. I'm more at peace—Miwako notwithstanding. "I blame you."

She laughs, her whole face glowing brighter than I've ever seen.

8-8


Punch meets elbow. Elbow meets punch. Over and over, the simple and repetitive exchange drowns out the passage of time. Mi's covered with a light sheen of perspiration. I don't doubt I'm the same—though it feels like I'm swimming in it.

No matter. We keep going. I throw a punch, she elbows. She throws a punch, I elbow. The repetitive action is no doubt going to help toughen up her forearms and wrists and hands, and everything, really. I want to make sure she's in top condition, looming mission or no.

We have an appointment later, mom and I. Some upscale kimono store she said caught her eye, and something about 'something fetching'. Curiously, Mi has the same kind of appointment later, with daddy, if by a different store.

The phone's been ringing off the hook since sunrise. Daddy's been busy, but the amusement in his eyes as he sat down to breakfast is telling.

"Break," Hoshie's voice rings through the dojo. I glance at her and Sakiko, finding them both sweating, their hands and elbows bright red from their training. They're all smiles.

And my thoughts are really erratic. What's up with me? Maybe it's the banquet, the one I know will change my stars forever. I don't know Tetsuhiko all that well, but I know the type. He's a politician, no matter how close he was to my grandmother. He'll want to tempt me to stay in Ryuuhou, he'll offer the moon and the stars to have the Namiki clan be loyal to only him. How novel.

Only, there's no easy counter to that. Defying Hokage-dono is risky enough, defying a powerful daimyo is a death sentence.

He wants to reward me, as was our agreement, and yet it could only happen in Ryuuhou, in his realm of absolute power. After all, his power in Konoha is only theoretical. He can technically order his Kage around, but there are risks to pushing too far. I don't doubt at least one daimyo has been assassinated for assuming too much.

And yet, if I'm wrong, and Tetsuhiko is truly my ally… that changes everything—the world becomes my oyster. There's no limit to what I could get away with. Kill someone in cold blood in the streets in front of a gaggle of witnesses? No problem. The daimyo would need to hear the case, and I could get off Scott free.

I could be offered land, slaves, servants, titles, more Ryou than I can count. It's all on the table. Or I could be executed on the spot.

Gods, am I ready for such a meeting?

8-8


Standing in the foyer, I fidget, fighting not to pace back and forth. Today's the day. The banquet. Daddy and I hammered out a solid plan—only Yasu-nee, Hatake, Mi, daddy, and I are going. When Tetsuhiko asks about that, our response is a simple and elegant 'they are all hung over'. It doesn't work for any other group, but for Namikis it's irrefutably possible. Doubly so, given we were given the date and time but yesterday.

Everyone has a proper outfit, one which even mom cannot find (much) fault with. Yasu-nee's gone over the proper protocols with us. Mi and I have an escape plan in place, should shit hit the fan. Daddy's been given full authority to speak for us, which Yasu agrees is quite normal in the circumstance—since 'girls' are expected to defer to the 'man in their life' in such a situation.

So, okay. We're not ready. But we're as ready as can be hoped for, prayed for, and as far as the brightest minds that I temporarily kidnapped from Konoha can plan for. Sarutobi tried saying that we're being paranoid for nothing. I didn't pay any more attention to him the fiftieth time he said it than the first—or if he even said it that often.

I just know I'm here, standing in the most constricting kimono of my life. Normally I'd just wear the top half and counterbalance it with skin-tight pants of some sort. Mom refused that out of hand. I'm in a proper, full-length kimono. Salmon-coloured, with a cherry blossom tree occupying only the lower half. No sweeping sleeves—I'd refused that on the grounds I'm not going to present myself as plausibly single, and those sweeping sleeves are only worn by single women.

Well, I also know that I can barely take a quarter step before my kimono bitches at me and tries dragging my other leg along. So I feel like I have to walk like a drunken duck in order to make any kind of headway. No matter how many times Yasu-nee tried to 'show me how to walk', I feel like a bumbling idiot in this.

And I really need to nice this place up. It's so… cold, so sterile. I don't like that. I don't like the bare walls, or the monotone wooden walls and floor. I want colour, life. I want every room to have a different potted plant, to lend it a unique scent. I want this place to vibrate, to thrum with life from every angle.

A scent draws my attention. I turn, finding Mi standing in the doorway in a black three piece men's business suit. Her jacket is left open, her hands on her hips to show off her figure, how the waistcoat hugs her every curve. Her cream and black-striped shirt's cuffs are folded back, held in place by cufflinks that look and smell like gold. Though her pants hug her curves, they aren't tight, exactly. They display her lack of fear to show her hips, her toned thighs. She's taller than usual—she's wearing three-inch, open-toe heels.

"My eyes are up here," she teases, her smile obvious. I look up at her. She's smirking, telling me without words that she knows I like it—to put it mildly. And, more importantly, to tell me she enjoys knowing that. Her hair is brushed back—the lower end likely held in place by a scrunchie or ninja wire. No make-up, but she doesn't need it—not in my opinion. She looks… wow.

"You look beautiful," she murmurs, her eyes drinking me in, much in the same way I like just had with her.

I don't answer, I walk up to her and close her jacket, buttoning it for her, and reaching up to untie and properly tie her tie—it looks frumpy, and I'm not going to let her look anything but gorgeous. "I'm going to signal you if I don't trust myself to answer. I'll keep it subtle, because Tetsuhiko knows Namiki habits. So count on me taking your hand and giving a gentle squeeze. If I start getting annoyed, I'm going to subtly signal daddy. He already knows that means to start making a gentle exit. I'm not wearing my gloves. So tha—"

Her hand ghosts over my eyebrow and down the contour of my face, cupping my cheek. "I'm not leaving your side. And I am wearing my gloves." I narrow my eyes—I didn't know she bugged Asami for…

Whatever. I make one last twist and flip-through, pulling the material snug for her. "If anything goes down, I can only be support. I—"

"I spoke to Shikaku-san. Between him, Ensui, and Kakashi-san, we should be alright. Yoshino-san will be taking care of the clan for us. Because your scent is so strong on her, Hoshie should be fine for a few hours. Michiko and Zeitou know to warn me if anything happens. And Kana and Satoko have a plan to keep everyone busy while we're out. We'll be fine."

I tilt my head from side to side, going over the information. It isn't the best plan, but it feels solid all the same. Simple, hard to get wrong. "When's the security system supposed to go online?" I ask, testing just how up-to-date she is.

"Tomorrow night, latest." I nod—Asami told me the same thing this morning. "Zabuza-san and Haku-san are coming with us. I have his sword sealed in my glove, along with Haku-san's senbons, Shikaku-san's kunai, and Yasu-san's tanto. We have a solid plan, love."

"I know," I murmur, wondering if it's solid enough.

"I'm not letting anything happen to you." Absolute certainty, that's all I hear. She's stating a fact as obvious to her as the sun rises.

I smile, shaking my head in amusement. Satisfied she looks presentable, I tug on her tie to tell her to lean in. We kiss, short and sweet. Her hands find their way to my face, cupping my cheeks, nudging me to look up at her, right into her warm gaze.

"I'll take care of you." Her solemn tone barely hints at the depths of that vow, but I've come to know her heart—she'd sooner crawl back to the Hyuugas than go back on her words.

8-8


There isn't as much to the banquet. Not to me. There's food sprawled over six long and high tables so we may walk up to them. There's a stage that elevates the afternoon's entertainment of song and dance. There's my group keeping near me at all times. And there's Tetsuhiko.

The rest of the palace rabble could slip in their own entrails and off a cliff for all I care. A shame they aren't likely to.

There are at least six hundred people here, each dressier than the next, each with bragging about this or that, and each acting as if Tetsuhiko is their best friend, constantly vying for his attention and begging for him to be included in their conversation for some reason or other. Better him than me. Curiously, the vast majority of the crowd are clearly the nobles' guards, though dressed up equally fancy—if slightly less so than the lord or lady they so obviously guard. For some reason, all the guards are kept over to one side, well away from the nobles. That confuses me—how can they properly guard anyone at that distance?

The extravagant décor and the locale go unnoticed, as if being in a hall large enough for ten times this crowd is the norm. There are servants buzzing about, making beelines through the stuffy and arrogant crowd as if it's the most natural thing in the world to them. I hear the nobility's mutterings instead of gratitude, though no one else is apt to notice. This isn't the kind of crowd I'd ever find myself at ease in.

No, we keep to ourselves in a quiet corner at the foot of the stage. Ensui keeps bringing us plates of food and refilling the strange crystalline cups with the even stranger liquids—one time it's blood red and smells of grapes, another it's almost golden and transparent with fizzy little bubbles.

Zabuza, kami-sama bless his heart, glares any pompous little shit that dares come our way into an early grave. So we've had no one that dares come for a little chat. That is, until Tetsuhiko comes our way. He smiles at Zabuza, walking passed him without any trouble, right over to Mi and I.

The Fire Daimyo makes some small talk, laughs at some joke Mi tells him—didn't hear it, I'm too busy trying to ignore the newest little shit Zabuza is glaring at. Thus far, this banquet is a page out of the most uncomfortable nightmares I've ever suffered through. All I need is for heads to start rolling—it's the only symptom missing.

When Tetsuhiko leaves, so does the laughter. Mi turns to me, her arm slithering around me. She leans down, murmuring right into my ear, her breath teasing goose bumps on every millimetre of exposed skin. "He'll be making his announcements soon." I shiver. I don't care who 'he' is, what he has to say, or much of anything. I just want her to do that again.

This pompous little shit comes sauntering up to our group, glaring at Zabuza as if to dare him to try anything. He tries getting passed, but the ex-rogue stands firmly in his way, glaring down at him as if he's a mosquito buzzing around, too loud for his own good.

A pest that doesn't understand the rules of the other groups don't apply to us, don't exist with us. A pest that snaps his fingers and expects his samurai guard to shove Zabuza out of the way as elegantly as is possible—not that it's actually possible, but he'll have to sort through fantasy and fact on his own time.

Daddy comes back over to us, his frown as obvious as his dislike of some person coming to bug his princess. "Is there a problem?" daddy drawls, stopping beside Zabuza to show who's side he's on.

"I should hope not," the pompous little shit announces, his tone smooth but anger lining his eyes. "If you would kindly have the brigand step aside?"

"No." Daddy turns and comes over to me, his hand coming to my face, his finger gently nudging my chin upwards and towards him so I'll look at him. He smiles, his eyes lighting up as he regards me. "You're not drinking too much, are you?"

"Maybe," I tease, my eyes mischievous. He snorts, shaking his head even as he leans in and kisses my brow. He can hear the lack of a slur in my words, so we both know I'm not.

We're called to take our seats. Just as Yasu-nee explained, we are called one group at a time—supposedly in order of importance. I don't care for any of it, though I am curious that the Namikis are called first, and that we are to sit beside Tetsuhiko-san. I look to my sister, but she's too amused to explain much of anything just now.

As we make our way into another, even more decadently decorated room with low tables, I nudge Yasu-nee to sit beside her grandfather, and I make sure Hatake sits beside her, just in case. I find myself between daddy and Mi—daddy to my left, Mi to my right. I don't know if there's a reason for it, I'm just glad to feel Mi's hand on my back, glad I can lay my hand on her thigh.

It takes almost ten minutes before everyone's seated, but it'll take even longer before food is properly served. Instead of worrying with that, I focus on the music wafting in the background.

"Ah, a pleasure to meet you at long last," I hear some person saying, though I offer no sign I listen. I give Mi a gentle squeeze, letting her know I'll just mouth off and start trouble.

"Please excuse her reserved attitude, she's unused to such large crowds," Mi answers for me. "Please meet Namiki Aya."

"You don't say. Would she happen to be related to Namiki Akemi? Lord Mistuzaka was quite close to her growing up."

"Aya's maternal grandmother," Mi explains, grabbing my side and squeezing gently for some reason. The pair of them keep going back and forth, though it's painfully obvious that that person asks much and offers little.

Once I'm sick of hearing the endless tirade of questions, I shut Mi up with a kiss on her neck. I make sure to nibble just enough, to turn her on just enough, to make sure she doesn't care about whoever that person is and what they're curious about. And to make sure there's a glowing little red spot on her exposed skin so no one questions her standing in my life.

8-8


I don't know how people have the patience for shit like this. We've been through seven courses over the last three hours. Between each course, we've had enough time to 'mingle' and to 'discuss'. I've hated everything. The food is too little—only enough to tease your taste buds. The time between each course is too long. And the only ones I care to converse with, I didn't have to leave my home for.

Curiously, daddy's had to chase off another slew of 'suitors'. No matter how I cuddle with Mi, no matter how daddy turns them away without fail or exception, they just don't get the point that I'm not interested in so much as knowing their name.

"Tetsuhiko-san, is there some reason people keep bothering me?" I ask, a little fire seeping into my tone to show how I truly feel about this. The Fire Daimyo only laughs.

"It's pretty common, sweetie," daddy explains. "When boys see a beautiful girl like you, they can't help but try their luck."

"So if I try my luck to eviscerate them?" The latest asshole turns heel and strolls away without a word. I'm going to miss him. And why is everyone laughing?

"Oh, Aya-chan, I've been meaning to ask?" Tetsuhiko grabs my attention. With four people sitting between us, he has to speak up a bit, so there isn't a doubt in my mind he wants for everyone to hear what he has to say. "Do you intend to retire soon? After all, you have your lover within reach, and your clan's prosperity is all but assured."

"Yes," I agree, nodding. I rub my hand up and down Mi's thigh, letting her know my words are meant more for her than for anyone. "We have more than enough pups running around to keep me busy. So I'll be focusing on them."

"I thought as much," Tetsuhiko admits, sounding amused for some reason. "Then I've selected your gifts perfectly." I narrow my eyes, but don't comment. "And what of Hitomi-chan? What are your plans?"

"I'll be taking over the political side of things for Aya. Shikaku-san has been helping me."

"Aww," I coo, turning my full attention to daddy and tugging on his arm. He leans in, letting me kiss his cheek without a fuss. "Thank you, daddy." His goofy-happy grin shows me without a doubt he enjoys taking care of me, no matter what I need from him.

"Of course."

"Ooh, that reminds me." I turn to Mi, meeting her questioning gaze. "Keiko and Misato. We need to…" Mi smiles, leaning in and kissing me on the neck, nibbling just enough to show me she can play that game, too.

"I'll handle it." She had to say that with her lips still on my neck, sending a tremor of pleasure through me. Of course. Show-off.

8-8


Once the meal is—FINALLY!—eaten and the tables are cleared, Tetsuhiko invites us all into the great hall—though I can't figure out what's so great about it. It isn't until The Fire Daimyo ascends the seven stairs all the way to the back and has four of his twelve guards surrounding him that it hits me—this is his seat of power, where he sits atop his plateau and gazes down on the ants that are his people.

Everyone lines up in two columns, leaving a walkway of sorts between them. There's a buzz of excitement. Some are theorising who'll be given gifts, others are musing what gifts they'll be given. I don't get it, and I'm not going to try.

The ninja guardian closest to Tetsuhiko calls out name after name. Each time some pampered little shit comes and bows low to their liege, each time they are offered title, land, or both. Yasu-nee eventually explains that it's Tetsuhiko's thirtieth anniversary as daimyo, and he holds a party like this to reward those who've served him well over the last decade.

I shrug, not really caring for any of it.

"Namiki Aya!" Sigh. I grab Mi by her elbow to let her escort me. She stops us at 'the appropriate distance', and we bow. I right myself, I look up at Tetsuhiko, finding an amused smile in his eyes.

"Happy anniversary, Tetsuhiko-san," I say, smiling warmly. There's a collective gasp behind me—I only shake my head at the collective stupidity of nobility.

"Why thank you, Aya-chan, Hitomi-chan." Tetsuhiko only seems to be more amused, an impish little smile working its way onto his features. "Namiki Aya-chan. You've done both me and the Land of Fire a great service. When Hidejiro showed signs of corruption, you brought justice to bear."

The murmuring starts up again, only this time there's an undercurrent of fear. So that's your game?

"In addition to investigating his every crime, you and yours brought all guilty parties directly to me for a fair and just trial. You freed the people of Wave country, and you brought their land into the fold of the Land of Fire." The murmuring stops, like a raging bull hitting a wall that doesn't give into it. "I wish to reward you in keeping with this, in the only way I believe you deserve."

So much dramatics. Why? Just tell me what you want and be done with it.

"First and foremost, I gift you ten samurais of the Fujiwara clan, including their wives and children." Must not snarl. Must not growl. Must not react.

"In addition to this, I gift you Hidejiro's fortunes, monetary and otherwise. His slaves, his servants, and his harem." Calm. Be at peace. Just because these people are given to you as if property, doesn't mean you need to treat them so—and you knew this was a posibility. Just calm down.

"Namiki Hitomi and Namiki Aya, I appoint you both to the position of advisor." I stare blankly ahead, waiting to hear what this entails before I blow a fucking fuse. "You shall be my eyes and ears, you shall be my voice. Not just in Konoha, but in the Elemental Nations. And should it become needed, you will be my blade."

I grin. Well, well, well. Shimura. Hokage-dono. I just became your permanent migraine.

"You are hereby also granted the title of noble clan of the Land of Fire. With this comes the right to own slaves, the right to arrest any person in the Land of Fire until they are brought to trial, and the right to train and house an army in my name. This army is yours to command, but may only act on orders given by me personally. No one but me will have authority over you. And no one may judge your actions but me."

"We are most grateful." Mi and I bow low to him. "We will ensure we have a secure line for you to contact us, should there be need of it."

"No need. Arrangements have already been made." My grin only widens. This is going to create a tidal wave in Konoha. "Please ensure you have a team ready at all times, should I have need of them. I understand you yourself are retired, Aya-chan, so I ask only that you continue to train them."

"As you say."

8-8


I hold it in as best I can, rushing through the streets. It takes four strides to compare to my usual one, but I can't bring myself to care. I'm too busy fighting to hold in an evil cackle.

All the training, all the fighting, all the plotting, all the working from the shadows. But most of all, all the bullshit I've been through in my life. It all leads up to this one, glorious moment where the world is my fucking oyster!

I can retire without a care. I can finally focus solely on my medical jutsu and train others when I feel the need.

I. Am. Free.

Free! Free. I can do as I damn well please. And there's no one in the fucking world that would dare tell me different!

We make it to the gates, Sarutobi lets us in and I dash ahead—or try to, it's kind of hard to move quickly when your legs are constrained—tugging Mi along with me. I need to tell the pack, I need them to share this gorgeous moment with me.

Cocking my head back, I let loose a howl to call the pack to me. It takes but a fraction of a second before a dozen howls greet me and my family comes running. Wolf and pup alike, everyone comes out of the house to see what's going on.

Reika, Sakiko, and Hoshie are the first to reach me, for some reason. The others are hot on their trail, though—including Satsuma and Miwako, carrying Kenshin.

"Namiki meeting. Right now," I announce, motioning for them to follow me. They don't ask, though I see the curiosity burning in their eyes. They follow me around the house, into the back. I lead them down to the pond, to a secluded little spot with two stone benches. I take a seat, motioning for everyone to gather round.

Mi takes her rightful place next to me, wrapping an arm around my middle. I give everyone a moment to get semi-comfortable—we really need to set up one of the sitting rooms as a meeting room, so we can hold proper meetings in private.

"The meeting turned out better than I could have hoped for," I begin, unwilling to have them worrying about it—though they show no signs, better safe than sorry. "We, the Namiki clan, no longer answer to Hokage-dono or to Konoha. We are now directly under Tetsuhiko's command."

The others look around, confused, wondering why that's a good thing no doubt. Only Miwako seems to make any sense of it, her eyes glowing with warmth as she hugs Kenshin.

"Let me explain. Even if I retire as a kunoichi of Konoha, in times of war I can and will be called on. The same holds true for certain types of missions. Even if I were to become the best medic in Konoha's history, if Hokage-dono decides a mission is better suited for me, I'll still be sent out. Even if I am officially retired, he can still force me back onto active duty and send me out. The only way out, is if a shinobi or kunoichi has a debilitating injury—missing a limb or being in a coma or being unable to walk without aid."

The shinobi nod, understanding in their eyes—the only other option is death, and that's such a drag.

"What Tetsuhiko has effectively done, is he offered us freedom. To an extent, but a greater extent that Hokage-dono would ever allow. We're in a position to deny everyone in Konoha any and everything. The only one capable of issuing us orders is Tetsuhiko himself."

"That's great and all," Michiko begins, narrowing her eyes at me. "But there's more going on here."

"Yes," I agree nodding. I look away from them, wondering how to even begin explaining this.

I mean. I became a kunoichi because of Miwako disappearing. By becoming a kunoichi, I wrote my life over to Konoha, essentially giving them the power to dictate if I live or die, and how, to a certain extent. In doing so, I gave up on my one dream—to be a simple housewife, to mind the home. So, in fact, I denied myself everything, and put myself in a position where I could demand nothing—no matter that I fought it tooth and nail.

"He's given back your life," Satsuma pipes up. Everyone looks to him, askance. But Michiko's eyes never waver from mine. "Undoing what Miwako and I have done."

"Pretty much," I agree, bobbing my head. Not that I plan of forgiving them because of it, but yeah, that sums it up. I shake off the useless emotions, trying to get my head back in the game. "We've also been given the right to house and train an army in his name."

Another interesting thing here. We haven't been appointed head of said army—we are allowed to house and train it. That means it's a position that cannot be stripped of us by anyone but the daimyo. Feudalism at its best. We foot the bill for housing, training, arming, and armouring. And he'll expect me to be loyal to him, so if the army is loyal to me, it's loyal to him by default. We're his nest egg, should things go sour, for whatever reason.

"He's sending one of his twelve ninja guardians over with ten samurai, slaves, and that dickhead daimyo's harem."

"We're a noble clan, then," Satsuma intones, obviously not impressed.

"Yes," I agree, understanding his stance all too well. Nobles are capricious, and well-known for their proclivities. "But we're doing this the Namiki way." I nod to Michiko, Zeitou, Eimi, Tsuji, and Atsu. They grin, understanding that we'll be treating the new additions as part of the pack and training them accordingly.

"A few major changes, starting now." Everyone stands a little straighter, even Yasu-nee, Kana, and Satoko. "Michiko, Zeitou, Eimi. Seeing as I am officially retired, you three will be Mi's team. I will still train you as I always have, but you'll be under her direct command."

"So nothing's changing," Zeitou teases, winking. I roll my eyes, not disagreeing with him. Mi would order them to guard me every bit as zealously as they have been, and then tell them exactly what they need to look out for.

"Moving on. Yasu-nee, you're still in charge of all things civilian-related. You'll just have a much larger group under your command. Keep in mind that I trust you, Satoko, and Kana far more than the new additions. So they won't be allowed in our den when we go back to Konoha."

"Of course, little sister," Yasu-nee agrees easily.

"I'll assign a single house for the servants," I flatly refuse to call them slaves—Namikis don't keep slaves, "and you'll be given duties to be assigned to them. While we're here they will be housed in the left barracks as you enter. Kana and Satoko are, of course, your assistants, so the three of you will need to organize them and ensure everything is done without fail."

"Understood," Kana gushes, fire burning in her eyes for some reason. "I'll keep an eye on them. I'll report anything of note, and I'll let you know if any of them come off as anything but trustworthy."

"You do that," I encourage, smiling. That's exactly what we need right now, someone that will keep the newbies under surveillance. "Reika, do you have my gloves?"

"Of course, Aya-sama." Reika reaches into a hip pouch that certainly wasn't there before, taking out my gloves and offering them to me.

My, my, Mi-chan. You certainly have been busy.

Taking my gloves, I unseal my kunoichi scroll, from there I unseal the bag with the tantos and take two out. Kana and Satoko each get one.

Hoshie. I see her growing nervous out of the corner of my eye. I study her for a moment, seeing her gaze flicking from Yasu-nee to Kana to Satoko to Michiko. Every time, she sees them bearing weapons. Though I doubt she knows I'm the one that armed them, I see her desire to belong all the same.

Then Hoshie's eyes fall on Sakiko, on the tanto strapped across her lower back. Tears well up, for some reason. It almost seems as if she can accept her elders being armed, but someone her own age is getting preferential treatment she obviously lacks.

"Hoshie," I call to her, as gently as I can to not startle her. She doesn't ask, she comes barrelling at me. I set aside the bag for a moment, sealing my scroll back into my glove for safekeeping. I scoop her up and plop her into my lap. "Listen, little sister. I'm going to say this only once."

Her yellow-brown eyes dance back and forth, focusing on my left then right eye. Her pleading is no less noticeable, though I doubt she does it consciously.

"Sakiko understands my rules. She understands the risks. And she shows me that every day. Because of this, I know I can trust her to train with and keep a weapon. Do you understand?" She nods, tears welling up in her eyes. She expects me to tell her she can't have one—something tells me that's all she's ever heard; no. "So I'll give you the same respect."

Her eyes widen and her face starts glowing.

"Not so fast, pup," I hold up a finger to tell her I'm not done. She smiles, shy and unsure, but her eyes aren't smiling any less bright. "You could cut yourself with that blade. You could hurt others just as easily. If I find out either happens, I'm not giving you a second chance. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Aya-nee," she says, her tone solemn but no less happy. "I'll be careful, I promise."

"Not just with you, pup," I say, giving her a meaningful look.

"Of course!" she agrees, wincing at how loud her own voice sounds. She takes a moment to calm down before continuing. "Of course, Aya-nee. I'd never hurt Ki-chan."

I peer into the bag, leaning in and taking another tanto, but I don't offer it to her just yet. "If you accept this blade, you accept the trainings and responsibilities that come with it."

She nods solemnly, steel in her eyes. "I won't let you down, o'nee-chan."

I press the sheathed blade into her hands, my gaze never wavering from hers. "Sakiko. I'll need you to show our sister the first kata. Take it slow."

The pair of them don't miss a beat. They dash off, just a little ways up, and the explanation starts. They don't start training just yet—I'd be disappointed if they did. No, Sakiko starts pointing to this and that, no doubt explaining things about how to strap the blade to her lower back, the names of the pieces, all the important stuff no one has patience for.

I should address Miwako and her husband. I know I should.

"Reika." I turn to the pup still wearing her uniform, her face and hair covered. Her green eyes smile, a crease forms in her mask to show her lips are curled up as well. "You're going to be my assistant from now on. You'll be joining me for all my trainings. And you're going to help me keep our clan organized."

"Of course, Aya-sama."

"Don't accept this role lightly, little sister. You don't yet know how much this will demand of you."

"I understand, but I don't care," she says plainly. "Milady needs me. I'll find a way."

I nod at her words, studying her from head to toe. She'll need gloves, like mine. She'll need scrolls to seal things away. She'll need proper leg pouches. She'll also need more blades—kunai and trench knives strike me as the more practical for now. I'll need to start working her in with all the chakra control exercises I know—she's going to start on medical jutsu sooner or later.

More than that, it's time to stop pretending I need Asami to do these things. I need my own brushes and inks and empty scrolls—my packmates need to start their training in these arts as well. The time for pretence is long past, after all. I can't deal with a lot of things out here—too many eyes, too many ears—but I can and will start gathering the things they'll need.

"Alright," I say, unsure if I'm talking to Reika or not. I turn to Mi, wondering how best to broach her needing—

"I have my team, so I won't need an assistant. And I've already made a list of things for Santa to pick up for us in Konoha. Including gloves for the others, blank scrolls, enough calligraphy brushes for all present, and all the other items Asami-san says you'll need. Do you have anything else you needed picked up?"

I lean in, claiming her lips with mine. If she isn't careful, I'll start craving to marry her before I turn sixteen—and I doubt mom will take well to the idea.

"I don't have anything planned for the new additions, not yet," Mi continues, her breathy voice sending a shiver through me. "I figure we wait a day or two before calling Santa with the finalised list. It should be enough time for you to decide if Keiko and Misato are your guards or not."

I kiss her again, loving how she's starting to think a few steps ahead. I nod, sucking in the much needed air she stole from me—I feel every bit as breathless, she likes taking my breath away. "I'll discuss it with Ensui and daddy later."

"They can hear you, you know," she murmurs, the cocky little smirk all too obvious. I don't know if she knows I've not noticed them, but it's painfully obvious she enjoys how she affects me.

Just to annoy her, I pull back, looking around—daddy's eyes shine with amusement, so he no doubt knows exactly what I'm doing. "What do you th—" Mi kisses my neck. Her teeth graze my skin, derailing my train of thought.

"What do you think, daddy. Could the Naras sp—" Mi pulls back just enough for her searing breath to get me to stumble over my words. I swat her leg, knowing she's doing it on purpose. "Could the Naras sp—"

"You said you'd speak with him later," she murmurs into my ear, her nose trailing right back down to the spot that, I don't doubt for a second, is already turning bright red.

If anything, daddy looks even more amused, especially when I glare at him dully. "Mi. Behave."

"Don't wanna," she lilts, her nose suddenly nudging my earlobe. "We're on vacation, love. I plan on enjoying it." As if to prove her point, she nibbles on my earlobe, sucking my studs into her mouth and flicking them with her tongue.

I moan, unsure if she intends to make me enjoy it more.

"Yes, sweetie. Keiko and Misato are assigned to you until further notice. Just make sure Ensui and his family have proper accommodations, and no one'll complain." I'm kind of busy ignoring how my scent is becoming more and more obvious, so answering daddy is on the backburner.

Mi pulls back about the same time a pitiable whimper jumps up from my throat—they might be linked. "Good. So you have your guards. I have my team. A basic organisation of the clan is sketched. And we're both going to be training them. We know more or less what to expect. Is anything missing?"

Whether I want to or not, I see Satsuma and Miwako looking hopeful. The lifestyle choice's damage has been mitigated somewhat—though not becoming a kunoichi in the first place would have been preferable. Could… could our relationship be salvaged? Could the years of neglect be dampened?

I look to Hoshie and Sakiko, seeing them going through the kata one move at a time. Sakiko still hasn't mastered it, but she is showing all the moves in the right order. The family I should have had, and the family I've sown together. The juxtaposition makes my head hurt.

But it's my heart that hurts most.

"The new additions are en route," Mi announces out of the blue. I turn to her, finding her Byakugan active. Her eyes see through me, passed my defences, passed the persona I wear for the world. "I'll take Yasu and Team Hitomi. We'll greet them and get them settled in. Servants on the left, samurais on the right."

"Mi…"

"We're going out tonight. Just the Namikis and Iis."

"Hitomi…"

"I've—"

"What are you…?"

"If you start running. You'll only keep running." Her words knock the wind from my sails. What she wants is obvious. And though I sort of kind of maybe want it, too, I don't know if I can face them. Not alone.

I look to her, peer passed the bulging veins, passed the tough exterior she presents to the world. She's hurting, too, but like me she's just not ready to face the mother-figure she should have had. "Stay with me?" She flinches. I can almost feel her focus shift to Miwako, so I take Mi's hand and lay it on my chest, so she can feel my heartbeat.

The bulging veins calm, the intensity of her gaze ebbs. Her eyes see only me this time. "Ensui, if you could go with Yasu to see to our arrivals?" she speaks only just loud enough for him to hear her. He starts walking that way, shooing the others while he's at it. "Guys. We'll need a few minutes with Miwako-sensei and Satsuma-san… alone."

Instead of walking away, Michiko moves behind Mi and I and places her hands on our shoulders. "We're a pack," she soothes, giving a gentle squeeze. "We do nothing alone." The others, no doubt spurred on by the simple truth in her words, crowd behind us as well. Reika sits beside me, wrapping her forearms around my elbow and laying her head against my shoulder.

Feeling their warmth wrapped around me like a blanket against winter's bitter cold, I find myself sitting up a little straighter as I face Miwako and Satsuma.

"I hate what you did to me." My words come out so cold it surprises even me. I get nothing but gentle squeezes, little reminders that my pack is here, that they'll be my strength if I am weak. "That you abandoned me, left me to rot in the fate you two didn't have the guts to face.

"You knew I hated being a kunoichi. You knew from the time I could walk that I was meant to be a doctor. I was supposed to be the one saving lives." The pair of them stand there, side by side, holding each other as they take lash after lash of my verbal onslaught. "Do you have any idea how many people I've had to kill to keep Naruto safe? How many people I've had to drive insane to set an example? Do you even understand what that does to someone who learned those things to save lives?"

Tears fall. Not just down my cheeks, but theirs as well.

"If not for Tetsuhiko, I'd have been propositioned to join Anbu sooner rather than later. Do you have any idea how much worse that would make things? Being a Namiki on a team that could never have my ease at killing hundreds if not thousands of targets as we make and keep the Land of Fire safe?"

Satsuma's shoulders quake as the first sob escapes him. He does understand, being both a medic and the man I inherited my intelligence and demeanour from.

"So now you're back," I intone, gazing through already wet lenses at the pair I used to pray every night to see again. "And the poor little lost girl you left to fend for herself is supposed to ignore the damage you inflicted, willingly or otherwise."

"Not… not ignore," Satsuma manages, his voice thick with emotion. "I… we can't ask that."

"Then why are you here?" I demand, my chin quivering. "What do you want from me?"

"A chance to make it right," Miwako speaks up.

"So you'll bring back to life those I've killed because of you? You'll mend the minds I've shattered because of you?"

"No, Aya," Satsuma cuts his wife off, giving her a gentle tug to tell her to let him do the talking. Though he's emotional, he seems to have a grip on the situation he finds himself in. "We know we can't undo it. We know we can't give you back your childhood. We know we can't alter the choices you had to make because of us."

"So you're here hoping to mend the hearts you shattered," I intone, the fury within be burning so white hot that the world feels cold.

"We're here because we're a family," Satsuma argues, the pleading and pain in his eyes showing the depths of the scars he carries within him. "We're not here to compare wounds or brag over who's hurting more. We're here to try to heal each other."

"So you're not going to argue Miwako either had a breakdown or was burned out when she found you," I hear my voice speaking, feel my tongue and jaw moving to allow it. But for the life of me, I don't know why I said it. "You're not going to argue that you were taken against your will and tortured by Mist for some nefarious purpose or other?"

Satsuma swallows, his eyes haunted and body tense. His grip on Miwako looks painfully tight, but she doesn't seem to mind. "It's true," he says, his tone and face lifeless. It's as if he's a ghost, a husk where once stood a man. "But it doesn't make it hurt less, does it."

Sigh. So I was right. That's why they stayed in Mist, why Sarutobi ordered them into therapy before they even returned.

"We need to get going," I drone, standing and motioning for the others to come along. It's not as if talking this to death will help anyone, after all.

8-8

End Chapter 29

8-8


A/N: Something semi-important to mention. Aya is getting the support she never got (not like this) in Butterflies and Butterfly Effect. So odds are, she is going to grow far more as a person here than there. Hitomi, after all, knows the scars she bares, and she knows the woman Aya no doubt would have grown into. So there's little Hitomi won't do to get her the support and help she needs.

In other words, what Okichi would have done for her in The Butterfly Effect, Hitomi is doing for her long before the worst of the damage is done. Expect a very different Aya to emerge in the course of this story accordingly.