AN: So I don't enjoy writing in characters that are children, but sometimes it's the best way to imply their growth as people later on with existing experiences and timeskips to justify a relationship change. This isekai thing is a little bit of a cheap way to avoid that, while also playing catch up with OC's memories while also being a crucial bit of plot waaaayyy further down the line. Hope this is actually appealing to other people but ultimately I'm the guy I want to impress. So \_(0_0)_/ fight me.
Somewhere between the third or fourth bottle of Sake, Shibasa began to recall snippets of her life as a shinobi, leading to her current predicament.
Three important facts stood as most prominent:
At some point in her life, Shibasa had been a respected Jounin of Kusagakure.
At another, later point, Shibasa had attempted to share critical intel with a Leaf shinobi in return for her safe transfer to Konoha.
Some time during the collapse of the Kannabi Bridge, Shibasa had been caught and imprisoned in the Hōzukijō, the Blood Prison.
The latter of those facts opened up a pit of unquenchable rage inside of her stomach, which didn't seem to be satiated despite the aforementioned consumption of four bottles of Sake.
The pale young man sitting across the bar wore an incredibly concerned expression on his face.
"Uhm, Shibasa-San… Perhaps you might consider slowing down a little?" Kabuto suggested.
The old woman behind the bar snorted.
"Not a chance, boy. Your room is booked until tomorrow so I suggest you settle in for the night." Beashiro said with a dry smile.
A small saucer clanked against the wooden surface.
"Have a drink, free of charge." Beashiro offered, with a weak smile.
Kabuto tried to excuse himself but Shibasa slammed a hand down on the counter.
"That fucking prick!" Shibasa fumed.
Kabuto's mild expression turned slack, his hand fell to his side in preparation for a fight.
Beashiro reached over the counter and patted Shibasa's shoulder with a calmness that spoke of these outbursts as being commonplace.
"There, there." Beashiro murmured gently, as Shibasa folded her arms against the counter and plunged her face down into them.
Kabuto relaxed again, his body untensing.
A soft sound of weeping filled the almost empty bar. Shibasa herself couldn't explain how naturally the tears came, she couldn't explain why she felt so miserable.
She couldn't explain why she was crying over Genba Yamanaka.
Kabuto took a sip of the wide saucer placed before him.
"I was led to believe you were quite the professional, Shibasa-san." Kabuto murmured quietly, a small but smug grin gracing his face.
"Well- I'm not- Asshole." Shibasa retorted, every time she halted in her speech she either sniffled or hiccupped.
Kabuto chuckled.
"It's better this way, really. I could do with a little break from my own lifestyle." Kabuto replied, taking the name calling in stride, there was enough of that at the various hideouts he spent his time in.
Beashiro scoffed, sipping a small clay cup of tea she'd prepared after sweeping up the wreckage of the fight Shibasa had been tossed around in, earlier that afternoon.
"I should be charging you for all the bloodstains you left in the hallway upstairs, I couldn't get to them fast enough and now they're settled into the wood." Beashiro muttered.
Kabuto had the decency to look incredibly sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I'm sorry about that, honestly I didn't intend for it to get so messy, but you know how it goes…" Kabuto said, trying to lead Beashiro into agreeing with him.
Beashiro scoffed. "No, I would not know how it goes." Beashiro mimicked him with a sillier voice, an underlying message was being conveyed with the way she looked him in the eye.
Stop fishing.
Kabuto made a note to find out whatever he could on the old barkeeper later on. She certainly wasn't on any bingo book he'd ever read, and Kabuto prided himself on his intelligence gathering. The old woman was clearly a shinobi of some kind, but she didn't fit the description for any known active missing nin.
Kabuto took the glare for what it was and raised both hands in a mock sign of defeat.
"I'd hate to be a bother, I think I'll have an early night and we can discuss plans for tomorrow." Kabuto said.
Shibasa raised her head from the countertop, a confused expression across her face, as well as a small stream of snot.
"Plans for what?" She asked.
Kabuto's grin turned just the wrong side of vicious.
"To get your revenge, of course." Kabuto replied, as if it was supposed to be obvious to Shibasa herself.
For the most part, it would have been obvious to her, if she weren't a completely different person slowly assimilating knowledge of the vessel she now inhibited. It did dawn on her, of course, that this was in fact her motivation and incentive for working with the group known as the Akatsuki, as well as a few other smaller details. For example, her drinking habits.
"... Right." Shibasa agreed, and Kabuto excused himself for the night without another word.
A minute of silence, besides Shibasa's continued wailing and crying, and Beashiro cleared her throat. Shibasa once again raised her head and looked towards the old woman with a baleful glare.
"What." Shibasa demanded.
Beashiro, impressively, seemed relatively unphased by the events that had transpired in the afternoon, and barely seemed phased by the added presence of Kabuto. Shibasa had already begun to admire the older woman, but she couldn't kick the ingrained urge to be petulant and rude to the woman, as her predecessor had.
"That boy is trouble, girl." Beashiro muttered under her breath.
Shibasa sneered.
"I could fold him like my laundry." Shibasa dismissed her.
Beashiro folded her arms, unimpressed.
"You barely disposed of a single hunter-nin, with my assistance, while he killed four of them, without a single scratch to show for it. And I'm the one that does your laundry, idiot girl." Beashiro stressed.
"I'm having an off-day." Shibasa mumbled drunkenly.
Beashiro scoffed once more.
"You could say that again, you're a mess. What happened to a week ago? When you told me you were going to forget all about this Genba boy, and move on with your life." Beashiro retorted, still in a hushed tone.
Shibasa internally tried to consult whether that could even be possible. The way she felt a sinking grief flood through her made it seem like she had been lying to both herself and Beashiro by saying so.
"I… Changed my mind." Shibasa mumbled, trying to think back to her times as a jounin in Kusa, but she couldn't. Hazy figures, names and places within the village that stood on the tip of her tongue but she couldn't quite recall.
Beashiro gave the girl a knowing look. She reached out a hand and ruffled Shibasa's unruly brown hair.
"Whatever you decide, make sure to follow through with it." Beashiro said solemnly, and Shibasa knew, even without her shinobi brain, that that message came from experience far greater than both her lives combined.
"Besides, you're thirty years old. You still have plenty of time to misspend your youth on more important matters than revenge." Beashiro rattled on a little louder.
"Oh in my day, let me tell you I was the most beautiful kunoichi you'd ever seen…" Beashiro began recounting a completely made up story of her own sordid history and eventually, after making Shibasa chuckle and gasp at her incredible stories, Shibasa slowly drifted to soft slumber.
Beashiro even had a blanket prepared for such an occasion, going so far as to place a genjutsu on the woman to ensure she didn't react violently when she came into contact with her to place the blanket over her slumped figure.
Sleep came to Shibasa thick and fast, the feeling of warmth spread over her, lulling her pent up feelings of grief and anger, not only for whatever Genba had done, but for the loss of her initial life and the complete uprooting of her comfortable state of being.
Before today, she'd never been built for murder, or alcoholism for that matter. And yet…
And yet now, deep in her slumber, a mix between the feeling of dread and satisfaction settled within her.
Faces, names and places swam through her dreams at a feverish pace. The speed at which she was bombarded with information would have made her scream, had she been awake to do so.
Memories of her little brother and sister going through life milestones, as she accompanied them in a world without chakra preceded her memories of half a year of being imprisoned in the Hōzukijō.
Such contrasting emotions collided and fought before settling in her very soul, leaving her almost unable to differentiate her two very different life experiences. This most certainly wasn't a regular dream but Shibasa couldn't help but be grateful for the sudden ease at which her mind shifted from, being horrified by her new setting, to feeling almost jaded despite the horrific things she could suddenly recall with just a little prompting.
Shibasa woke up early, her face pressed against the bar counter, and with an absolutely astonishing hangover.
"Uuuuggghhh." Shibasa said, conveying how she felt perfectly.
The distant sound of frying came from somewhere in the back room, behind the bar itself.
"And the fabled princess awakes from her slumber, ready to face the break of dawn!" Beashiro's voice could be heard from the kitchen, cackling wildly at her own fau speech.
The smell of something sweet filled Shibasa's nose, preventing her from thinking of something equally as witty in response. The smell was instinctively familiar to her.
"Shiruko? For breakfast?" Shibasa asked incredulously.
A small wooden bowl of the steaming pudding was what Beashiro exited the kitchen holding, and a glass of water in the other hand.
"Your favourite, no need to thank me, dearie." Beashiro said, placing the food and drink down gently beside Shibasa.
Shibasa mumbled her thanks and immediately drank the long glass of water in a matter of seconds, before digging into the sweet red bean paste. The strange sweetness and tang made Shibasa want to squeal in delight.
Despite never having previously tried such a food before yesterday, she recognised the flavour as one of her life's most reliable constants, a comfort food. It also felt incredibly strange to try differentiating her two lives anymore, they had become one in the same to her.
"You're too kind to me." Shibasa concluded.
Apparently, Beashiro hadn't been prepared for such an admission.
"Why do you put up with me?" Shibasa asked quietly, still nursing her pounding head.
The look of shock on Beashiro's face didn't wear away, even after what felt like minutes had passed by, Shibasa had just about finished the dessert in front of her before the old woman replied.
"Well, one reason that comes to mind… Is that you saved my life, despite... Well you should remember." Beashiro muttered.
Shibasa did not remember that particular incident, even despite what she dubbed, 'The Mind Merge'.
"Sure, gratitude, I get that." Shibasa nodded, stirring her little spoon around the empty bowl, collecting the remnants of the paste and savouring it.
Beashiro herself looked unsatisfied with the answer she'd given.
"I suppose for lack of any children, you've become like a daughter to me." Beashiro confessed, almost bashfully, despite her many years.
Shibasa felt taken aback by the statement, dropping her spoon with a little clank, her eyes welling up completely involuntarily.
A weak and wobbly smile spread across Shibasa's face. In her life as a shinobi, she'd certainly been starved of affection, and it showed. Especially when she had a whole other life of healthy familial bonds to use as a point of reference. By comparison, her relationship with Beashiro might have been considered laughable. Suddenly those two lives were easily very distinguishable to her.
But this was the closest she had to a family now, and Shibasa was almost furious that this was the first time she'd realised it.
Beashiro seemed to have caught up with herself and began to piece together some semblance of her more standard, less emotional appearance.
"The money helps too, you pay me an awful lot, girl." Beashiro chuckled gently.
Shibasa laughed a little at the token gesture to lighten the mood. Beashiro wasn't wrong though, Shibasa was paying extortionate amounts of ryo, all things considered, but the work the Akatsuki had given her was unbelievably well paid, and it felt like there were literally no drawbacks, besides the obvious dangers of working with notorious missing nin.
Beashiro whisked away the now empty crockery that littered the bar counter and Shibasa waited patiently as she heard Beashiro dutifully wash the singular bowl and spoon, before returning with a fresh glass of water.
Shibasa was once more reminded of her unbelievable thirst and onset headache.
"So, you plan on getting your revenge do you, girl?" Beashiro asked with a grin.
Shibasa wracked her brain, recalling the events of the last night, only slightly feeling ashamed of crying in front of a stranger. She'd done worse. Probably.
"Kabuto seemed to think so. He seemed like he had a plan." Shibasa deflected.
A creak of wooden stairs alerted the pair to the aforementioned young man's presence.
"I had a little something in mind." Kabuto admitted, walking down the stairs and seating himself one stool away from Shibasa, as he'd done last night.
Beashiro stood with her back straightened, levelling a stern look at him.
"I'm serving Shiruko, I hope you like it." Beashiro said.
Kabuto smiled easily. "Who doesn't?" Kabuto asked rhetorically, not at all phased by the strange choice of breakfast.
While Beashiro went into the kitchen to get servings for herself and Kabuto, the young man swivelled in his stool to face Shibasa.
"I have quite strong connections to Konoha, you see." Kabuto began to explain casually, although Shibasa felt her grip on the empty glass in her hand tighten involuntarily.
Shibasa waited for Kabuto to continue.
"So… With the limited security, by virtue of the Kyuubi attack, I may be able to infiltrate the village and see if I can't locate Yamanaka-san for you." Kabuto finished explaining. Instantly something felt off about the offer.
"I'd assumed you were a Leaf-nin." Shibasa stated.
Kabuto chuckled lightly.
"I'm afraid not, Shiba-san. I was raised in an orphanage near the village but I was adopted by my current sensei, and of course, trained to where I am today." Kabuto said, loosely waving his hands and gesturing to his relaxed form.
Shibasa nodded at the explanation, having no real reason to accuse him of lying, despite her urge to. What did it matter if he was lying anyway? He could infiltrate Konoha and that was all that mattered.
"From there, of course, I can inform you as to Yamanaka-san's whereabouts or mission status and… Well from there it's up to you I suppose." Kabuto surmised, gratefully accepting the bowl of sweet bean paste from Beashiro.
"Delicious, thank you ma'am." Kabuto said with a smile.
Shibasa mulled over the brief outline of his plan. It was weak, and vague, but crazily she didn't feel at all rushed to find Genba.
"Fine." Shibasa said curtly, standing up from her stool and shrugging off her blanket, letting it fall to the floor. She felt disgusted and filthy, from all the events of yesterday and the still, very present hangover she had, made her wish for nothing more than a bath and a change of clothes.
On cue, Beashiro left from behind the bar counter and picked up the blanket before heading towards the stairs.
"I'll draw your bath, girl. Your clothes are laid out in your room." Beashiro said.
"Oh, Beashiro-san, before I forget. Have you ever heard of Kagerō Village?" Kabuto asked.
Beashiro froze. Shibasa saw a smirk grow on Kabuto's face.
"No. I have not heard of such a village." Beashiro replied mechanically.
Kabuto sighed dramatically, resting his arms behind his head and reclining into literally no back support.
"What a shame… Nobody seems to even remember it was a place." Kabuto said aloud, although it was clear he wasn't directing the statement to anyone in particular.
Shibasa certainly didn't know the village, and from the sounds of it, the village wasn't around anymore anyway.
Beashiro went up the stairs without another word and left shibasa alone with Kabuto.
"You two seem quite close." Kabuto commented.
"Mhm." Shibasa replied.
"You must have met a long time ago, to foster such a strong bond." Kabuto continued.
Shibasa didn't even remember how long ago it had been since she met Beashiro but instinctively she knew it was barely more than two years.
"Yeah, definitely was." Shibasa lied.
Kabuto laughed lightly.
The chatter lasted until Shibasa excused herself to go bathe and get changed into less grimey gear.
Beashiro had drawn the bath's temperature perfectly, and just as she had said, Shibasa's outfit lay neatly on her bed. She wore a loose and baggy cloth shirt, coloured somewhere between cream and green, with tighter, but still loose, cargo pants. A flak jacket with mesh lining covered her shoulders and chest.
Shibasa tied her shoulder length hair into a tight bun and as tradition dictated, (A weird tradition, the more time she had to think about it.) She wore a Kusa headband, with a line etched horizontally through the middle of the symbol, on her forehead.
Returning downstairs, she saw Kabuto packing a lot of his scrolls and gear at one of the free bar tables.
"Leaving so soon?" Shibasa asked.
Kabuto nodded.
"Best I get to work quickly, my sensei hates to be lonely." Kabuto said casually, but then turned back sheepishly.
"You didn't hear that from me, my sensei's a scary man." Kabuto amended.
Shibasa shrugged, she'd never tell a soul.
"How will you get in touch?" Shibasa asked.
"Either by messenger hawk, or courier service. I can assure you that I'll be able to contact you, wherever you are." Kabuto replied. Shibasa ignored the rather obvious threatening undertone.
"Thank you for your help then, Kabuto-kun." Shibasa said. Kabuto smiled, waving a dismissing hand.
"Honestly, I don't have much choice in the matter, but please flatter me more." Kabuto joked, Shibasa grinned despite herself.
With a few more pleasantries exchanged, none from Beashiro, who was indeed standing behind the bar the whole time, Kabuto departed from the decrepit bar. Both Shibasa and Beashiro felt a weight lift off their shoulders.
Beashiro was the first to start the conversation, drawing forth a bottle of Shibasa's favourite Sake and a lot of vile words directed at the now departed young man. An entire morning went by and Shibasa found her hangover replaced by a comfortable buzz once more.
There was no way this was healthy, but Shibasa was dead set on living her best life, now that one of her lives had ended so abruptly.
"I'm just saying, the boy was playing with those corpses like they were toys! That can't be a good sign, Shiba." Beashiro rattled on from behind the bar.
Shibasa had become very distracted by the bar's fixtures, they had suddenly become very interesting to her. The floorboards were old, and yet had very little wear to them, the beams holding up the ceiling were solid timber, and the countertop her head was currently resting on was made of smooth, smooth mahogany.
For a brief second, Shibasa's attention turned to the bar's front door, the entrance Beashiro had fixed yesterday. It certainly looked like the most used thing in the place.
A second later Shibasa noticed the shadow underneath the gap in the door.
The same wooden door Beashiro had carefully rehinged, was smashed into splinters by a tremendous kick.
All of Shibasa's instincts screamed to get ready for combat, but for such a flashy entrance, she immediately rationalised that the intruder did not intend to go straight onto the offensive. That or she was a lazy drunk.
Maybe a bit of both reasons applied.
He was a truly hulking figure, not quite as tall as the previous intruder, although still having to duck his head under the doorframe. He carried more presence than Garisu, the hunter-nin, who had all but declared that he had never truly developed as a person beyond being a graduate of the Kusa Genin Academy. This man's relaxed stance alone spoke of someone truly unbothered by aggression on such a small scale.
A row of sharp teeth shaped a nasty grin on his face as he watched over the inhabitants of the shabby bar.
Narrow, wild eyes met equally wild but startled ones.
Beashiro, bless her soul, was the first to react, readying a kunai she had kept on the underside of the bar counter.
"Do you think you can take him?" She asked, her voice was deadly serious. Rolling waves of pressure were emanating off of the large man.
"Oh yeah, definitely." Shibasa replied, almost absentmindedly.
Something was wrong, Beashiro could sense it. She turned to look at the younger woman, who seemed to have completely gotten over her initial shock, a small bit of drool falling from the corner of her mouth, her cheeks mildly flushed.
Beashiro pinched her arm.
"In a fight, girl. Can you take him in a fight?" Beashiro clarified.
Shibasa shook her head violently, slapping her own face with both hands to get ahold of herself.
"Oh no. No I don't think so." Shibasa replied, without a drop of fear in her voice.
Kisame Hoshigake howled with laughter. His black and red cloak fluttered gently as he lowered his leg.
"Now which one of you is Shibasa?" Kisame asked, his eyes already focused on her.
Shibasa pointed at the old woman behind the bar. Beashiro squawked in disbelief.
Kisame snorted.
"Nice try." Kisame said dryly, walking forward slowly.
"Your information was off, you're coming with me." Kisame said, drawing something from behind his back. Beashiro brought her kunai to a guarding stance as something balck sailed through the air.
Shibasa caught the black cloak, emblazoned with red clouds, with some degree of confusion, a ring also bounced off of her head guard and onto the fabric.
Shibasa looked up at the shark-like man, a faint blush still on her face.
"If you're going to get it wrong, I've learnt it's best to sort the liars out with a test." Kisame said, it was the only explanation he gave.
"...Huh?" Shibasa asked eloquently.
"Put those on, partner, we have a village to visit." Kisame demanded.