Sighing, Nao watches her foggy breath curl in the air and slowly dissipate barely a foot away from her face. It's technically the middle of spring, but the winds rolling in from the ocean are so cold it feels more like early winter and the chill nips at her nose in a way that makes her appreciate the warm blankets even more. The breeze rocks the hammock softly and the stars and moon shine just enough light to see by, but despite the beauty Nao doesn't move her eyes away from the rafters above her.
Initially she'd fallen asleep quickly, exhausted as much from the day's events as the lack of sleep, but awoke nary a few hours later. At first she'd thought something must have woken her, but the only noise Nao can hear is that of the hammock swaying and the lizard snoring. The world is silent, as if snoozing along with the humans that occupy it, and so Nao laid back down in an attempt to catch a few more hours of rest.
The endeavour proved to be in vain however, because her exhaustion evaporated like fog in the air. Nao is left wide awake with nothing but her thoughts for company, which in and of itself is a problem. Because thinking leads to remembering, and remembering leads to realising what she can't remember.
And that list of things grows longer with each passing day.
At this point she can't even remember Hiroshi's face, all her memories with him fuzzy at best and outright missing at worst. All she has is bits and pieces, the things her brain deems 'important' enough to keep long-term. And now, waiting for the sun to rise, all she can do is think and ponder and worry.
Is Eizo destined to become like Hiroshi? Simply someone she once knew, whose memories fade with time?
Huffing, Nao shakes her head and moves to lay on her side. Thoughts like these are why she tries to avoid dwelling on anything for too long. They're not productive at all and don't even make any sense.
After all, Eizo isn't like Hiroshi.
Eizo isn't dead.
—
"Honestly, I could've walked there myself," Nao grumbles for the fifth time that morning, kicking a pebble and watching it bounce and roll down the street.
"And risk you doing something stupid on the way? Not a chance," Takeo answers.
Nao lets out a long, drawn out sigh, and the lizard chirps as he moves from one shoulder to the other. Smiling down at him, Nao holds a hand out so the lizard can skitter down her arm and settle himself at her wrist, his tail wrapping around her forearm so he doesn't fall off. He's grown too big to sit comfortably in her hand and though she kind of misses it, she has to admit he's been getting a lot more energetic as of late.
Moving her arm up in front of her face, Nao scratches the top of his head and laughs as he moves his head up and his tongue darts out in an effort to grab her finger.
Looking up, she sees the Academy come into view and returns the lizard to her shoulder. There's a small crowd of kids her age outside, all gathered around the wall next to the front door, presumedly where the listings for the new class arrangements are. Any older kids that approach the Academy walk straight in, often chatting together in groups of three or four. Brown Haired Boy is standing off to the side, watching and waiting for the group to disperse.
Just as Nao is about to wave Takeo off in order to do the same he charges ahead, making a beeline for the listings. Nao goes to tell him not to bother trying, but her mouth clicks shut when the kids' heads snap in his direction. When they realise his intentions they collectively move, parting to make way for him. Hesitantly, Nao moves closer when Takeo waves her forward, but stops when she sees the expression the kids' are wearing.
It's one of pure wonder, of awe, as if Takeo had personally hung the stars and moon. Like he's some kind of god.
Not for the first time Nao wonders just who, exactly, he is.
There's a prickling sensation on the back of her neck and the world blurs for a moment before snapping back into focus. "You're in room 2A," he calls, drawing her attention. "Don't piss the teacher off too much."
Eyes widening, Nao looks back at the kids but none of them seem to register that he spoke at all, most of them whispering amongst each other and stealing glances in his direction.
"Yeah, sure, whatever. Go away already, I'm startin' to think they're gonna start up a cult in your name or somethin'," Nao answers, already inching towards the front door. There are no cries of protest or angry words from the kids. In fact, they don't react, acting as if she hadn't said anything at all, proving her hypothesis.
They really can't hear a word she and Takeo are saying. Frowning, she resolves to ask him about that little trick later.
Takeo shrugs, then there's a pop! in her ear and he disappears in a swirl of sand. Reaching up to rub her ear, Nao watches as the group goes back to looking at the listings taped to the wall excitedly and shakes her head.
Nao opens the front door, adjusts the strap of her bag, and marches up to the front desk. "Which way is 2A?"
The man — the same one from yesterday — doesn't even bother looking up from his paperwork, instead pointing down a hall to the side. "Second on the left." Grunting in vague acknowledgement, Nao turns and walks to the room, acutely aware of the group of kids entering the building behind her.
The door is open when she reaches it, half the seats already filled with chattering kids, and she heads to the back of the classroom to sit herself in the chair in the corner, which is blessedly empty. Small favours and all that.
Blinking, Nao's surprised to see she completely missed the teacher, which, now that she sees who it is, might not actually be that surprising. The woman is barely taller than Nao herself, and if it weren't for the defined muscle and blue flak jacket Nao would have mistaken her for another of the students. Her hair is a brown reminiscent of a forest floor and her eyes are the same soft green as the moss found climbing the trees of the Land of Rivers. She's sitting behind the large desk at the front of the class, her chair high above the ground so she can look over it, her sharp eyes flitting between the students and some papers she's holding.
When the rest of the kids pile into the room they're laughing and shoving each other, and it's clear they've been friends for a long time. Despite the fact there's an obvious separation of skill between them — evident from yesterday's tests — the civilian and clan kids mingle together, forming small groups and claiming desks near each other.
Nao spots Brown Haired Boy approaching to sit at the desk next to Nao, and just as his hand reaches out to the chair another, taller boy shoves him out of the way.
"Hey!" the tall boy yells, gaining the attention of the whole class. "Why can he bring his pet to school?"
As if to emphasise his indignation the boy jabs a finger in the lizard's direction, damn near poking the lizard in the eye. Startled, the lizard clamps his jaw on the digit, teeth sinking into flesh easily, and the boy emits a high pitched squeal of pain.
There's a loud eruption of laughter from the onlookers as the boy clutches his hand to his chest, and Nao grins at Brown Haired Boy when she spots him smothering his own laughter to the side.
"He ain't my pet, dumbass," Nao says, causing the boy to scrunch up his face in anger.
"Sit down, Izuku-kun," the teacher calls out before he can answer. Face flushing in a mixture of anger and embarrassment, the boy marches off towards an empty desk, muttering under his breath the whole way. Nao watches him leave and Brown Haired Boy — what the fuck is his name? — sits at the desk next to hers.
"In the future," the teacher begins, waiting for the class to stop laughing, "you cannot bring your lizard to school."
"Why not? They bring their feathered rats!" Nao exclaims, gesturing to the closest Kushiro. The girl sends Nao a glare and her bird puffs its feathers in an attempt to look intimidating, which gets rendered ineffective by the fact it's a baby rainbow pigeon.
"The Kushiro clan register their partners, and you are free to do so as well. But until you do, you cannot bring it into class." Nao huffs and slumps in her chair, making a mental note to ask Takeo about it at the end of the day. She'll have to forgo exploring the village today, but she'll have plenty of other opportunities. She is stuck here for the foreseeable future after all.
Multiple people — mostly Kushiro — send Nao glares, and the teacher clears her throat to quieten the whispering that had started up again. "Well, now that that's over, we'll move on to this morning's topic."
And thus the most boring three hours of Nao's life began.
The teacher drones on and on the entire time. Apparently the first class is on basic history of the major nations, and while some of it is genuinely interesting — Kiri sounds fucking nuts — the rest of it is so dull that it makes Nao want to bang her head against the desk. She did take out the notebook and pencil Takeo had given her that morning, but most of the page is filled with doodles of lizards wearing crowns and Nao eating chicken drumsticks rather than notes on the topic. Not that she could really make proper notes even if she wanted to. It turns out that making notes in nothing but crude fuinjutsu is a lot more difficult when the thing you're taking notes on isn't fuinjutsu or basic 'this plant good' and 'this plant will kill you'.
Nao gave up on the third attempt.
By the time the bell rings Nao has her head propped up in her hand, half asleep. Yawning, Nao watches as the other students all get up and rush for the door and she stretches before grabbing her bag and following. The class is mostly empty by the time she reaches the door, and she follows the few stragglers to the area they're supposed to eat lunch.
She's mostly woken up by the time they reach the lunch area, and nearly jumps for joy when there's grass instead of sand. The area isn't especially large, but there's a tall tree casting shade on the area and a low brick wall that other students are using as a bench. Scanning the area, she sees Brown Haired Boy sitting off to the side with a bento box, completely alone as usual.
Looking around, Nao spots a free area to the side, up against the wall where hopefully no one would bother her. After one more sweep to the area, Nao settles herself on the floor in the corner and pulls out the bento Takeo had given her that morning, clearly store bought and still wrapped in clear plastic. Nao mindlessly unwraps it, then stares down at the slightly squished rice, fish and vegetables.
It's only when she notices the included chopsticks that she fully takes in her situation.
She's in a strange foreign country, enrolled in a strange shinobi school, surrounded by strange foreigners and living in(?) the house of a strange, irritating man. She has no idea where Eizo is, nor if she'll ever see him again, or if she'll ever see the outside of this strange country ever again.
It was never explicitly stated, but it's obvious people don't simply leave this village. Hell, they had to pose as freaking merchants just to get in! And now that they're— now that she's here it's all so…
Surreal. Strange. Foreign.
She can't even usechopsticks.
Her eyes start to feel suspiciously hot and she scowls down at the bento in her lap, blinking hard. There's no point getting worked up over it. The plan may have taken some… unexpected detours, but every plan goes a little wrong every now and then, right? You've just gotta adapt. Nao can do that. She's good at adapting.
Worst case scenario, she can always just… leave. It can't be that hard to sneak on a boat. Hide in a barrel or something. The Land of Fire isn't too far away. If there's a will there's a way, and Nao has plenty of will to spare.
But it won't come to that if she has anything to say about it. She's been through far worse than some boring lessons and rude adults, she's got this. Everything will be fine, will be better than fine.
Forgoing the chopsticks entirely, Nao picks up one of the pickled vegetables and starts eating.
She's got this.