Ito's mind extends to her heart no mercy.
She feels foggy and cold. Pakkun sends her a concerned glance whenever her feet land unusually hard, her usual steadiness and composure nowhere to be found. She is glad that the dogs are here to keep her on the right path, thinking for certain that she would be lost by now without their guidance. The truth is that she cannot manage to pay attention to anything in front of her. She is far, far away.
What had life been for her before Jiraiya had whisked her away to Konoha? Those days seemed like a mystery to her now, though she supposes she never cared much to remember them.
Ame had been wet;
The air always smelled like rusted metal. Her socks were never fully dry, worn with holes. The dampness used to seep into her very bones, the mildew into her marrow. There was a blurry-faced figure that at one point she had called 'father'.
(Or was it 'uncle'? Had he even been family?)
His identity is of no matter. Ito remembers that he was a gambling man, angry collectors often coming to the door to settle his debt. Their shack had been filled with thick clouds of smoke; he would puff his cigarette directly into her face, kick her around. He had not been able to see how intelligent she was, though small, uneducated, and weak. She had not been worth much to him at all, but still he offered her skinny limbs and ragged clothes to one of the collectors, and they had accepted the meager gift. From there and on- she could remember, and it was not worth thinking about.
But what had that been, if not wholly a lie?
How did I get there? Who was I with before? Years... years missing.
If I had a mother, where is she? Did she love me? Did she die?
These questions eat at her mind like termites at a rotting house, nibbling holes in the fabric of reality that she had sewn for herself.
The Third Great War sticks with her in vivid, blurry flashbacks. Incomplete pictures, too abstract and vague for her to interpret any story out of. It would be easier to knit together in her dreams, then pray she does not forget it all (again) by the next morning.
(Nevertheless, she tries)
Once upon a time, there was a happy family.
(The father, who is he?)
Kuriarare Kushimaru, an elite Hidden Mist Shinobi. One of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, infamous across the Five Great Nations (and all the lands in between) for his fearsome ability with Nuibari, the Sewing Needle. He was said to be a cruel man, sadistic.
(Was that, she wonders, before or after the mother left?)
And she is the most elusive of them all. According to Zabuza's description, she had been the captain of the Kiri Medical Corps. But what medic abandons their people and their country when they are needed the most? Something must have happened, something unimaginable. Few things can make a kunoichi abandon her duties, but even fewer could inspire a pregnant woman to flee her home during a war.
Why did she not stay in Konoha? Why go hundreds of miles further to live in a poor, suffering country?
(And the child?)
The name she carries- Wakumi. Had they been distant relatives, a small flicker of hope in a darkening world? Why had the child been forgotten?
(Abandoned)
Ito had certainly not been left in safe, loving hands.
Had Zabuza been lying to her? Was this skeletal excuse of a family another fabrication? She could not convince herself one way or another, enough plausibilities and impossibilities to drive her insane.
She feels sick, unable to rest as long as she has more questions than answers. And it hurts- a biting pain, snapping and tearing at her throat- that she does not have anyone to ask.
"Hey Kushiniko-chan," Pakkun calls to her, a few branches behind her, a looming forest around them.
The nickname rouses her from her thoughts. Kakashi's ninken are the only ones that refer to her in such a way. The first time they had called to her, she did not think to respond and had rather offended the dogs at first. Then the silver-haired boy had shyly explained that he had not been able to correct the habit after introducing her to the pack as 'Kushina's Girl' years and years ago now.
She wonders if perhaps the dog could smell her impending identity crisis, then writes such a thing off as preposterous.
"What is it?" She asks, slowing to a stop for the pug to catch up.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we're being followed,"
One by one the other dogs come to rest in the same tree, hackles raised and snouts pointed to the wind. She shakes her head, urging them to appear relaxed.
"Let's take a break," she orders softly, casting a water jutsu for them to drink from. She pops a food pill, leaning against the trunk of the tree. Pakkun sits next to her.
"By how many?" Ito's voice is a whisper, but unafraid, even. Perhaps a fight is the distraction she needs for her subconscious to work out the knots in her mind. Her eyes glance down at her balisong, the surface glittering lethally in the pale moonlight.
"Just one, a scout. Kiri Anbu, just like the boss said to look out for. If he has backup, they're not nearby currently,"
"They won't be far away. How long has he been tailing us?"
"Hard to say, but I noticed him just after we crossed over the water,"
"Dedicated man," Ito mutters. "Where is he now?"
Pakkun sniffs at the air, giving a slight tilt of his head to the southeast.
"What do you wanna do?"
"Better to deal with him quickly, before his team can catch up,"
"Should one of us go get the boss? In case you need help?" Pakkun nudges at her hand, showing his worry.
She scratches behind his ears, contemplating the question. Even if the shinobi turns out to be more than she can handle, Kakashi surely would not be able to make it in time.
"No, we only need to make it to the border. I doubt they would openly squabble with one of our own Anbu patrols. Once we take care of the scout, we'll have to move a little faster," Ito signals to the dogs and they prepare to move out.
The night falls into true darkness as the moon is covered by billowing storm clouds. Ito has a clone doubling back behind the tracker, covering footsteps and leaving misleading trails, setting traps. The pack breaks into four distinct pairs; two hounds lead at the front, guiding Ito through a winding detour. The other six break away from her and focus on cornering the scout, eliminating his chances for escape.
A gentle rain begins to fall to the ground, a rhythmic, steady pattering and plodding of droplets. If one strains their ears hard enough, they can hear a drip, drip, tink. Constant, insistent. Haunting; a sound with no source. Thankfully, the Mist shinobi does not think to question the sudden change in weather.
He continues to watch the woman, surprised that a Jonin would be so unaware of their surroundings. After seeing her ninja hound entourage, he had been anticipating more trouble, but it seemed neutralizing her would be easier than they thought. For now, though, his orders were to wait. He wondered when that would change, his fingers itching for blood.
The rain begins to fall harder, hammering down at his shoulders, pouring down his face behind his mask. He curses his luck, closing the distance between himself and the girl to keep track of her, his visibility next to nothing. Her pace does not slow, the ears of the dogs do not flicker back towards his unfriendly footsteps. He breathes a sigh of relief, growing a little too comfortable in her presence.
Her feet fall in time with the downpour, but she appears to be lost. Her companions have abandoned her, and he can see the stress on her face as she twists and turns through the inky forest without their keen senses to guide her. He smirks. Using a summons of his own, he sends a message to his squad, finding the opportunity that he had been looking for. He launches a kunai at the center of her back, mouth curling into a smile when she drops.
He approaches the body swiftly, her limbs twitching and jerking on the ground, blood spilling out around her. The rain slows to a stop, leaving a dense fog hanging above the undergrowth. It feels sticky in his mouth, thick in his lungs, dirty. He leans in to finish the kill, but an excruciating pain shoots through his skull, stopping him in his tracks.
When the pain eases enough for his eyes to open, the scene he remembers has faded away. Instead, his target crouches in front of him, unharmed. His hands and feet are bound tightly. Eight dogs of various shapes and sizes are growling at him, their teeth flashing white and deadly.
"Listen carefully, because I am not one to repeat myself," She says softly, tilting her head at him. "If you so much as breathe in a way that does not please me, I will snap my fingers, and you will die. I control you now,"
Her hands fold into a seal, and the agony returns tenfold, causing him to scream. Her hands release, and it vanishes in an instant, leaving him slack-jawed and panting. He had many years of service on his back, many scars and old wounds, but this was a fresh pain; entrepreneurial even. She had streamlined a way of delivering the most intense pain imaginable to the human body.
"What do you want?"
He bites his tongue hard enough to draw blood, refusing to give her an answer.
She tuts, one of her eyebrows arching severely.
He screams.
"Make all of the noise you want, I'm not worried about it," she assures him, her vivid green-blue eyes piercing through him. He looks around in horror, his eyes drawn to the pulsing seals tacked onto the surrounding trees.
"No one can hear you, and no one can sense your chakra. Two of my clones are leading your allies further and further away, and one looks just like you. As far as they know, you are still scouting ahead. I assume that you believed that with the presence of the dogs, separating from your team would keep you from being discovered. This was a foolish decision, "
She pauses, giving him a narrow-eyed look. He says nothing, thankful for the mask covering his expression.
"If you are waiting for them to rescue you, just remember that you were under a genjutsu when you used your summons. They are not coming,"
His heart sinks.
"And really, I'm not an unfair woman. I won't hold a grudge against you for trying to kill me. You're just doing your job, and I understand that. But, then again-" Her head tilts apathetically.
"You shouldn't have gotten caught. So, answer my question-" she commands, the pain returns until he begs for mercy. "-And I'll make this quick,"
"I won't," he spits, eyes rolling back into his head.
"You really ought to reconsider,"
"I won't betray my village,"
"Your village has probably betrayed you a thousand times over,"
"What do you know of betrayal, girl?"
He shrieks and writhes; Ito hates the sound.
"Your mother is responsible for the deaths of hundreds,"
"What was her name?"
"S-Sayuri. Kuriarare Sayuri,"
"Maiden name?"
"I don't know,"
"Did the Mist ever find her?"
"No,"
"So I am back to my original question: what do you want? Don't make me repeat myself again,"
"Lady Mizukage-sama believes that because of your possession of the Kekkai Genkai, you must be eliminated,"
"That is quite unfortunate for you, isn't it?" She questions softly.
She stands up, swallowing tightly as she looks at her prisoner. Kakashi had (as usual) been correct in his assumption. From the Mist's perspective, Ito never should have existed. Her birth had been an unfortunate breach of security.
"What did you do to me?" The man asks her, coming to terms with his fate.
Ito glances down at him.
"You inhaled a vapor while you were under my genjutsu. It invaded your bloodstream and the particles of water traveled, under my control, to your brain. As I condense the vapor into larger droplets, the pressure in your skull increases, causing inconceivable pain- essentially a migraine condensed into one moment. If more pressure is applied, then the blood vessels will erupt, causing a cerebral embolism and instantaneous brain death,"
"Monster," he murmurs, and she can sense his fear.
(He is right to be afraid)
The word clings to her ears, echoing and taunting her. She turns away before releasing the jutsu, taking no pleasure in the man's death. She rips the seals down, trying not to listen as his body destroys itself. The pack circles her protectively.
"Gotta get going, Kushiniko-chan," Pakkun reminds her softly, nuzzling her noticeably shaking hands.
They do not make another stop until they are well on the other side of Konoha's border, the sun just hinting at its debut for the morning. Ito dismisses the pack, thanking each dog profusely with scratches and belly rubs for their service. Before she returns to the village, she spends the sunrise looking over Itachi's pond.
Ito gazes down at her reflection in the glassy water, a breeze rippling across the surface and distorting her image.
Later, Pakkun returns to his master, Kakashi lounging about while the children slaved away on the bridge.
"Report," Kakashi says lazily, turning a page in the latest Icha Icha novel.
"You were right about the Anbu. She handled it with ease,"
"Unsurprising,"
"Oh, don't worry. I can surprise you," the dog sniffs, giving Kakashi a pointed look. "Did you know that she has a jutsu that can kill a man instantly?"
"-What?"
Pakkun recounts Ito's interrogation of the nin, the ruthless edge that she hid under her delicate façade. He does not leave out any details.
"Might wanna keep an eye on her, boss. She's not the soft-hearted little girl that you think she is,"
Uchiha Itachi and Hoshigaki Kisame are groveling in a tavern, its shelves stocked with pathetic, watery excuses for liquor and sake. Itachi could not care less, but his companion was whining loudly about the unfortunate selection. The downtime was the tedious part of their missions. Though he and Kisame were almost-friendly with each other, having to deal with the nin outside of combat could be quite a chore. While the Kiri nin continues to fuss with the man working the counter, Itachi finds himself straining to overhear a different conversation.
"-Momochi Zabuza caught in the Land of Waves,"
"The Demon of the Hidden Mist? Dead? Unbelievable,"
Itachi elbows Kisame discreetly, interrupting his tantrum. He tilts his head toward the gossiping barflies, low-level mercenaries flipping through a tattered Bingo Book.
"Someone said it was the Copy Ninja,"
"Nah, I heard he got beat by a girl, some pretty little Leaf kunoichi. Hold on, the new Mizukage put a hit out on her. I got it right here-"
One of them rustles through their bag, pulling out a crumpled scroll. Itachi's eyes narrow violently, his head tilting ever so slightly as his gaze slides over the pictured woman.
"Kuriarare? That monster had a daughter?"
"How did she end up in Konohagakure?"
"Kami, who knows, but I would want a piece of that even without the bounty,"
The men share an oily laugh. Itachi's eye twitches. Kisame gives him a curious look, eyebrows raised. Itachi turns his attention to the barkeep.
"Excuse me, do you happen to have any new Bingo postings?" He asks politely.
The man clears his throat, glaring at Kisame, and hands Itachi a few different scrolls. He looks over a few different faces before he finds what he is looking for, and sure enough-
Wanted Dead or Alive
Kuriarare Ito
S-Class Jōnin
The picture is somewhat recent, from when her identification card was updated at her rank promotion. He wonders who gave it to the Mist. Her expression is fierce and proud, her arms crossed across her chest, her hair pulled back from her face. Itachi is loathe to find himself rather impressed. It was incredible how much stronger she had grown over the years. In a different world, it would not have been difficult to convince his parents that she was worthy of the Uchiha name.
(Speaking of names, he thinks to himself, squinting at the words on the page)
"Kisame-san, what do you know about Kuriarare Kushimaru?"
"Well, for one, he's dead. Good riddance, if you ask me," Itachi's partner replies, still paying more attention to his drink selection. "And now Zabuza, too. My my, I wonder who will pick up his blade,"
"Did he ever have a family that you know of?"
"Zabuza? That man couldn't get along with a single person alive as far as I know. Think he had some kid that worsh-"
"Kuriarare-" Itachi corrects, interrupting Kisame with thinly-veiled impatience.
"Oh, uh-" Kisame finally drags his focus to the scroll in Itachi's hands. "Oh,"
His mouth curls into a shit-eating, shark-toothed smile.
"Is that your little girlfriend?"
"Answer the question," Itachi redirects blandly, tone flat and unamused.
"Well, whaddaya know," he drawls. "She and I are basically kin. Does that make us brothers, 'Tachi-san?"
"No. How do they know who she is?"
"Well, she does bear a striking resemblance to a certain missing-nin,"
"Who?"
"Hm," he thumps his finger against his chin, smirking devilishly. "Let me think,"
Itachi's eyes spark with annoyance, flickering blood red, murderous.
Kisame gulps, the smile falling off of his face.
"If I remember correctly, good ol' Kushimaru had a wife before the war, and there were rumors- whispers mainly- that she got pregnant, just before the fighting started. Well, she was a medic. One of the only ones the village had back in that day, so she was forbidden from having the child, naturally,"
"What happened?"
"No one knows," Kisame shrugs. "She disappeared without a trace before the first battle. It's still a mystery. In fact, I bet your girlfriend's surprise appearance is the first lead that they've had in a decade, looking at price tag that they put on her. After Kushimaru bit the dust, Sayuri ended up fading into legend, being remembered as one of the worst traitors to the Hidden Mist in all of history," Kisame guffaws stupidly. "If little Ito-chan follows in her footsteps, we could start a club,"
Itachi glares at him.