Nao hates the colour yellow.
It's awful. Plain and simple. She could talk at length about how the colour reminds her of piss, of an infected wound, of pus, but when it comes down to it yellow is just an awful colour. Truly terrible. Makes her want to vomit.
Which is probably contributing to her anger.
Because the walls she's been forced to stare at for god knows how long are yellow.
Why anyone would paint anything yellow escapes her. The colour is so fucking awful, so goddamn disgusting that anyone who dares willingly paint their walls yellow deserves to have their eyes gouged out because they're clearly not using them anyway.
Yes, she knows she's probably exaggerating, but honestly it's a lot easier to think about how much the colour yellow disgusts her than to think about how the cold steel of the chair she can't get up from is digging into her back. It's a lot easier than resisting the urge to look behind her at the opaque glass, far easier than imagining the people that must be sat on the other side staring at her, watching her every move while she can't see so much as a hair of them.
It's far easier to get angry about something inconsequential than to acknowledge the full-body ache that is the absence of the lizard or the fact that she has no idea where they took Eizo.
Hating the colour yellow is easier than thinking about how alone she is.
It had all happened so fast. One second Eizo was talking to the man at the gate and the next her body had locked up, limbs feeling like there were chains restricting even the most minuscule of movements, and she barely had enough time to panic before her vision faded to black and she passed out.
When she came to, she was already sat in this chair, a metal table and a second chair on the other side, and someone standing next to her. She only managed to catch a glimpse of a metal headband with the same symbol on it that the man at the gate desk had before they left through the door behind her.
The first thing she'd done was try to get up, but she's unable to. She can move — her arms, legs and head all moving easily when she tries— but when she attempts to get out of the chair her body locks up and painful jolts are sent through her limbs — the shadows are twisting up her body, holding her in place and squeezing so hard she's scared her bones will break under the pressure — causing her to bite her tongue so she doesn't scream.
She only tried it once.
Her hands aren't bound but there are two bracelet-like contraptions on her wrists. She's in the same clothes but there's no sign of her bag and when she looks the fuinjutsu in her pockets is gone. When she tries to send a spark of chakra into the cloth just in case she can't manage even that, the bracelets glowing faintly when she tries.
She's effectively trapped here without any way to contact anyone until someone comes through the door.
Nao hates feeling helpless even more than she hates the colour yellow.
Time drags by agonisingly slowly, each second feeling like a minute and each minute like an hour. It's reminiscent of sitting alone at the table and waiting for Aiko to make tea way back when, that same sort of anxiety of waiting for the other shoe to drop, and there's even the same tick as each second passes despite there not being a clock anywhere in sight.
The back of her neck burns with the knowledge of unseen people watching her every move, and she's acutely aware of every minuscule action she makes.
The ticking is deafening.
Nao's not sure how long she sat there waiting, all she knows is that when the door finally opens her eyes fly open and she doesn't remember shutting them.
At first she manages to resist the urge to look behind her, but patience has never been a virtue she's particularly fond of, so her resolve crumbles like a cookie left in milk too long after the first minute.
Standing by the door with their hands behind their back is a person almost entirely dressed in black. Black pants, shirt, open toed sandals and elbow-length gloves, grey armguards and armoured vest; the only part of them that shows any hint of colour is their mask.
It's an odd looking thing. Made of a stark white material that looks smooth to touch, what really catches Nao's attention is the intricate blue lines that swirl across the surface in lazy patterns.
If she tilts her head and squints the mask kind of looks like a squirrel.
Frowning once she realises they haven't so much as glanced her way yet, Nao starts talking before she can even register opening her mouth.
"What, ya gonna jus' stand there ignoring me all day?"
No response.
"Oi, dumbass, I'm talking to you! How long am I gonna have to be in here for? I need to pee."
Nothing.
"Okay, yeah, I lied about needing to pee, but what if I did, huh? What would happen then? I hope you've got cleaners because I sure as shit ain't cleaning up my own piss jus' 'cause you didn't think to show me where the bathroom is."
It's like talking to a brick wall.
"Geez, you're not a talker, are ya? That's fine, I've had a lot of practise talking enough for two."
Brick. Wall.
"You remind me of Eizo, you know."
Ah, there we go.
The person — man? It's hard to tell with that mask on — doesn't so much as twitch, ever the perfect imitation of a stone statue, but in that moment she knows his attention is on her. As soon as she mentions Eizo's name the back of her neck prickles from the not-directly-looking-stare, the same kind Eizo sometimes does.
Bingo.
"Yeah, I think you'd get along. You're both boring as hell, for one. I swear, the day Eizo made his first joke I nearly wept tears of joy. I was very proud, you know."
He's hanging on her every word, probably waiting for her to slip up and say something incriminating. She's only a kid, after all, and therefore must be an idiot.
Adults are always so predictable.
"There is one difference, though, now that I think 'bout it. Ya see, while Eizo may be a stiff bastard that wouldn't know how to loosen up even if I pulled the rod out from his ass, I still like him an awful lot. You, though? Well…" Nao lets the small smile drop from her face, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes into what she hopes to be a bone-chilling glare. "Well, let's just say I wouldn't give you a sip of water if you were lying half dead in a desert. Now, I'll only ask you this once, so you better listen up.
Where the fuck is the lizard?"
Nao practically growls the last part, and accidentally leans so far out of the chair that it registers her as trying to get up. She bites her tongue, tasting blood, and leans back a touch.
Finally — finally — he moves, his head slowly turning to face her. Though she can't see his eyes through the mask — how does he see? — she doesn't falter, staring him down and not wavering in the slightest. The room is so quiet that Nao can hear her own heartbeat, its steady rhythm calming her nerves somewhat.
She can't afford to be intimidated.
After a few tense seconds that feel more like decades, he breaks eye-contact, turns, and leaves.
Alone once again.
Sighing, Nao slumps in the chair and tilts her head back, staring up at the ceiling.
It's yellow.
She feels like screaming.
—
When the door opens once again Nao is disappointed to see the squirrel guy come through and resume his imitation of the world's most boring statue.
Snorting, Nao goes to resume singing every nursery rhyme she can remember (the people on the other side of the glass have to listen to it all, ha!) but stops when a second person steps through the door and shuts it behind them.
The woman that steps through has a far more commanding posture than Squirrel Guy. Whereas he blends into the background, she commands attention, holding herself with confidence and a certain grace Nao remembers seeing in dancers when they visited a village that was hosting a harvest festival.
While still wearing practical clothing that somewhat resembles Squirrel Guy's, it's in rich reds and golds instead of the boring black and grey, matching the ornate gold pin holding her brilliant red hair in a high ponytail.
Overall, she's dressed like someone that's probably important.
Not that Nao cares.
Mulling over the decision to ignore her the way Nao's been ignored for hours, ultimately she decides that would be too easy.
And boring.
Eizo had said she could be herself, after all, and Nao wouldn't want to rob the woman of the full experience.
Kicking her feet up on the table, Nao wishes the chair wasn't stuck so firmly to the floor so she could rock back onto two legs for full effect.
By the time the woman sits on the other side of the table Nao is already halfway through humming Momotaro-san and can practically feel the glare from Squirrel Guy, which is ridiculous. Nao practised her whistling an hour ago and compared to that this is the red carpet treatment.
The woman waits patiently for Nao to finish with her hands clasped on her knee, legs crossed and foot softly tapping along with the rhythm.
Meanwhile Nao stares at the ceiling and debates if she hates gold as much as she hates yellow.
After Nao finishes humming the closing lines the woman gives a small round of applause. "Marvellous performance. Do you practise often?"
It takes a good dose of self-control for Nao to hold the laughter in at her comment. She knows she sounds like a dying seagull when she tries to do anything even remotely resembling music, and she's impressed the woman can lie through her teeth so well. "Nah, I reckon I'm jus' born with natural talent," Nao answers primly.
"Well, either way, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Kayo Uzumaki, what's your name?"
Uzumaki. Eizo's rough explanation of the village may be hazy in her memory, but he'd made sure to hammer the name Uzumaki so far into her brain that she's sure it'll never come out.
Uzumaki means important, means dangerous, and while Eizo had assured her several times that they wouldn't do anything to a kid Nao has her doubts.
"Nao," she says, resisting the urge to say a fake name just to mess with her.
Be yourself, Eizo had said, but not stupid.
"No last name?" Kayo asks, voice mimicking detached curiosity so well Nao would have been fooled if she weren't trapped in her chair with a guard by the door.
"Nope," she says, looking back up at the ceiling as if completely bored by the conversation, which isn't far from the truth. The longer the woman — Kayo — stays civil and dances around the elephant balancing on a ping-pong ball in the room the more Nao's nerves stand on end.
The other shoe hasn't dropped yet.
"You didn't get one from your parents?" Kayo presses, leaning forward ever so slightly, a furrow in her brow as if concerned.
"Nah, don't see a need for one, myself. 'S not like me an' Dad stay in one place long enough for it to matter." When Kayo goes to ask another question, Nao cuts her off. "I ain't answering anythin' else until you give the lizard back, yeah?"
Kayo tilts her head. "You're asking after the lizard, and not your father?"
Nao keeps staring at the ceiling.
"Alright, I hear you loud and clear," Kayo sighs. "I was told you were worried about your pet, so I took the liberty of bringing it in with me."
"What do you—"
Looking back down, Nao scrabbles to catch the lizard that's on the edge of the table trying to reach out to her. She barely catches him before he tumbles off, and she would have fallen out of her chair if she weren't practically glued to it.
"The fuck!? When did he get there?" Nao exclaims, looking over the lizard for any injuries. If they hurt even a single scale on his head, she swears she'll—
"He's been there the whole time," Kayo says, almost sounding smug, and in that moment Nao decides that yes, she hates gold just as much as yellow.
"Fuck you," Nao spits out, any semblance of patience gone. "You take all my shit, leave me here for hours, then, what, decide to be a cryptic asshole? Do us both a favour an' hurry up an' ask whatever bullshit you want and then piss off. Preferably off a cliff."
She puts the lizard on her shoulder, under her shirt, and he then immediately shoves his snout under her jaw as if trying to calm her down.
Her heart breaks just thinking about where he could have been all this time.
"You haven't asked after your father this whole time."
Scratching the underside of the lizard's jaw, Nao sends an ice cold glare in the Red Hair Bitch's direction. "Yeah, and I ain't gonna. He's a big boy and can handle himself jus' fine. So get on with it."
The back of Nao's neck is burning with Squirrel Guy's indirect glare, but she doesn't dignify him with so much as a glance. She'll be as rude as she damn likes, thank you very much.
"How old are you?"
"Seven," Nao sniffs, continuing to look down at the lizard and pet the top of his head.
"When's your birthday?"
That gives her a moment's pause. "Early spring-ish? Maybe late winter, I dunno."
Red Hair Bitch raises an eyebrow. "You don't know your own birthday?"
"Not really. I mean, does it even matter? Dates blend together when you travel a lot."
Tick. Tick. Tick.
She gives a noncommittal hum, and doesn't answer. "Have you been traveling a long time?"
Nao shrugs. "I dunno, depends what ya think is a long time. Been a bit longer than a year."
"What do you believe to be the reason you're here?"
Tock.
Furrowing her brow, Nao stops to think about what to say next. Eizo had warned her that something like this was likely to happen, but she'd brushed him off at the time. She'd still been pissed at him, and wasn't really taking anything he said seriously. Later, once she'd calmed down, he'd gone over everything again and what she should do and not do in each situation, but honestly she hadn't paid as much attention as she should have. She'd thought he was exaggerating, that he'd been overthinking everything, because they've been to loads of villages before. What would make this one any different?
Oh how she regrets that now.
"What, here in this shitty prison cell of a chair? In this vomit inducing room? Here on Earth? Well, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much—"
"Here in Uzushio," the Red Hair Bitch cuts her off. "In this village."
"He said it'd be safer," Nao shrugs, then scoffs. "No idea where he got that idea from. Safer my ass." She very pointedly looks around the room and down at the weird chakra-subduing bracelets on her wrists, then back up at Kayo.
At least the woman has the decency to look somewhat guilty.
A second later and she slips back on the mask of indifference as easily as Nao rips off a pair of shoes, and returns to her irritating line of questioning. "Safer? What would you need to be protected from?"
A few images flit through Nao's mind at that. Metal headbands with foreign symbols inscribed, men and women wearing white flak jackets and swords at their hip, a man stopped in time, unmoving even as Eizo approaches like a predator stalking its prey. A teenage boy running like the devil is at his heels.
Swallowing all of that, she simply says, "Bad people."
Nao makes brief eye-contact with Kayo but quickly averts her gaze, suddenly unable to bear looking at her so directly upon realising she's most likely one of them.
She's not automatically any safer just because she's not wearing a mask or metal headband.
Kayo leans back and nods as if all of this makes perfect sense and Nao hadn't just said the most pathetic non-answer ever.
Silence stretches on for so long Nao can barely resist fidgeting in her chair, and when Kayo finally stands up she flinches at the noise of Kayo's chair grating against the floor.
"Alright, we're done here. Someone should be back to take those off you soon," Kayo says jovially, vaguely gesturing to the bracelets on Nao's wrists. Opening the door, she then pauses and looks back at a very confused Nao. "Soon being a relative term, of course."
Nao flips the door off as Kayo and Squirrel Guy leave, content with the knowledge that the people on the other side of the glass will at least see her last act of defiance.
—
Takeo shuts the door behind himself and Kayo, then takes up his usual spot in the corner of the room.
A quick glance shows that Kenta is kicked back in his chair and nonchalantly observing the young (boy?) on the other side of the glass, whispering to the bird perched on his shoulder all the while.
Azumi on the other hand is watching the boy with far more intensity, scribbling notes in the book in front of her every time he so much as twitches.
While neither of them would have been his first choice to work together, he trusts Kayo's judgement enough to stay quiet about it.
"So, what do you two think?" Kayo asks once it's clear that neither Kenta nor Azumi will be the first to talk.
"The kid hasn't got a future in the music business, that's for sure. I've heard screaming toddlers that sound better than that," Kenta answers, earning a whack upside the head from Azumi.
Takeo has to resist the urge to hang his head in despair.
"What? Honestly, it's just a kid. A bit ruder than normal, sure, but still a kid. And a scared one at that, even if he hides it well," Kenta says. "It's not like they're a real danger or anything. I doubt he even knows a single D-rank jutsu."
Azumi shakes her head. "That kid can already make basic storage seals, and god knows what else the traitor taught them. You can never be too careful, or do you want to explain to the public why there's an unknown threat running around the village?"
"Threat!?" Kenta splutters, looking horrified. "He's seven, eight max, and you're acting like he's a Kiri soldier! What would you have us do, huh? Kick him out to fend for himself? Send him to the wolves? A public execution? Lord, I knew you were cold hearted but I didn't know you were a full fledged psychopath."
"Me, a psychopath? At least I take the safety of the village seriously, you'd throw the gates open for every person that claims to be a lost cause and would have us all killed within the week!"
"Yeah? Well at least I don't get a hard on for human suffering—"
"Oh that's rich, considering what Akiko said yesterday—"
"Enough," Kayo cuts in, and immediately they both stop talking, though if glares could kill they'd both be dead within seconds with how they're looking at each other. "Azumi, what do you think we should do?"
Looking smug, Azumi turns away from Kenta to look at Kayo. "Contain him, at least until we know for certain what he's capable of."
"What? That's barbaric—"
"Kenta," Kayo thankfully butts in before another argument can start up. "What do you think we should do?"
Kenta blinks. "Well, if he really did make the storage seals, and he's an Uzumaki… Why not put him in the Academy?"
"You can't be serious—"
"What's your reasoning?" Kayo cuts Azumi off, and Takeo's glad Azumi at least has the decency to not interrupt her.
"There's no way he's going to stop fiddling with fuinjutsu now, it's in the Uzumaki blood, and at least that way he won't blow someone up with a failed seal. Besides, what's the alternative? Keep him locked up for the rest of his life? Kill him off and dump the body? We'd be no better than Kiri."
Azumi looks like she wants to argue further, but thankfully has the sense to stay silent.
Kayo hums. "Kenta, you're right that we can't contain a child for a long period of time," she says, then raises her hands when Azumi starts protesting and Kenta looks a little too smug. "And Azumi, you're correct that we can't let an… unknown variable run around unsupervised."
There's a moment of silence, and then Kayo turns to face Takeo. "What do you think we should do?"
Takeo tilts his head, and mulls it over. Kayo will occasionally ask his opinion when she's already come to a decision but doesn't want to be the one to say it, but that doesn't mean he's used to it, even after all these years. Kayo's games have always been beyond him.
"Don't punish the son for the sins of the father," Takeo eventually says. "Why not send him to the Academy, and also assign him a guard?"
Kayo's smile widens from ear to ear, then she claps her hands. "Well, that's that sorted then! Nao will attend the Academy this year, and you will be assigned to watch over him!"
A rock settles in the pit of Takeo's stomach. Of course she would assign him to the boy, what else did he expect?
Turning to look through the glass, he finds the boy has fogged up the metal of the table and is playing tic-tac-toe against himself— and is losing spectacularly.
This ought to be interesting.