SI Childhood days Part 1
Premise: She had gotten lucky. She had been reborn at the opposite side of the globe from where all shit went down. Then her luck ran out and she ended up in Konoha. Joy. Not. SI OC.
Meeting
"One kind word can warm three winter months" - Japanese proverb
Chapter 1: Meeting
She woke up to a nightmare.
Her muscles still ached, her mouth was dry, and the clingling, clinging, clinging stank of rotten things and burning wood still burnt through her nose.
She tried to breath through her mouth and regretted it instantly, the bark Midori-nee had used to cover her had bits of moss- everything had moss on Swamp country, but now she didn't have air on her lungs and Akako coughed, coughedcoughed until the last of her saliva had left her and her lungs burnt.
She rested her head against her knees and wished she hadn't woken up at all.
If she closed her eyes and didn't move would her body fall?
If she chose not to wake up would she find them again?
Will she see them again?
Her hands tightened around the lucky charm of a religion she didn't believe in around her wrist, it had been a gift and gifts were to be appreciated, but her Mama had said life was a gift and Akako couldn't find anything to appreciate here.
Here was not home.
She wasn't home. She wanted to go home.
She choked in a ghasp and her body pulled her into another set of dry coughs, this time rippling her whole body until her sides ached. She didn't have breaths left to make them loud, her coughs were silent but her body shook and she jerked her head back not to spit on her scraped knees and there was a loud thud when the back of her head connected with the bark behind he
The tree was old and hollow so it resonated far more than it should and Akako held very, very still.
Midori-nee had told her to hide.
She had been told to hide and wait and no one was coming back but Akako would be damned if she disobeyed her nee-san's orders.
She'd not been kind enough to them. She had not appreciated them enough. She hadn't done enough but Akako had always though she would have more time.
She didn't have any time left.
Her vision clouded and she let herself smile.
She would be home soon.
.
.
.
Someone removed the bark from her hidey hole and Akako wanted to cry.
Couldn't she rest?
She wanted to rest.
She would glare at whoever disturbed her peace but she didn't have enough energy left so she contented herself with peering at them from behind her arms.
Her knees were bent in a weird way and it hurt but Akako didn't have enough cares left.
She would see them soon.
She didn't even mind whatever this man had in store for her if he just had the decency to kill her.
"Kid, you alright?"
The question was so ridiculous it sparked some part of her and she wheezed a cough that could have been a laugh in another time, and the stranger's energy rippled in concern.
His was so clear. Blindingly bright and so unlike any she had felt before. People here had auras or signatures or chakras or however you managed to name them. Her Mama's had been a soothing pink and her sisters had all been brighter, clearer than anyone else's because she had known them so well, but this man's energy was annoying.
It felt like leaves rippling in the breeze and the dark tang of exhaustion on her back and Akako didn't like it because she could feel nothing else.
It's like the world had muted.
She coughed again and cursed her luck.
She was so, so done.
The man gave a long tired sigh and she heard rather than saw him fiddling with a cap bottle. He pressed it against her lips and it was so, so tempting but she pressed her lips together and pointedly, furiously, deliriously ignored the blissful feeling of cold moisture against her lips.
She wanted to rest.
She didn't want whatever pity this man had for her if it would only prolong her suffering. What else was left for her?
He sighed again and tried once more.
Twice.
Thrice.
Four times he tried to feed her and she refused until he finally, finally got the message and relented.
"What's wrong with you?" He asked, his voice dry from the smoke, "I'm trying to help. Don't you want to be helped?"
She shot her eyes open (when had she closed them?) and she couldn't see anything past the spots on her gaze but she looked at him and shook her head with whatever energies she had left.
She wanted to see them again.
Why didn't he understand?
"You don't want to be helped," he deadpanned, like she was the difficult one here.
Akako had expected him to go on or give up but he did neither of those things.
He simply- looked at her, and it felt like she was being dissected by a microscope this world had no way of developing, each part of her unraveled until she was divided up to the tiniest portions possible and put back in order all over again, like a puzzle, but he did not have all the pieces of her and so he frowned.
He had seen much.
Much more than she would like.
But he was not moving, and Akako only needed ten seconds to realize this man was not going away until he resolved this puzzle.
Akako did not see why she would keep hoarding secrets, so she shook her wrist -no need to move more than she had to- and the light caught the soft red cloth of the charm with the kanji for 'spring' lovingly stitched in front.
Spring.
Here, spring was rebirth after the death of winter. It was the next step on the cycle. It was life but it was also rest before a new summer.
It meant starting over.
She wanted that. She wanted to close her eyes and find herself in that other place, the ones religions spoke about, with one more chance, just one, of seeing her family again.
She was hurt and tired and yes, she wanted to give up, but there were many waiting for her at the other side and she wanted to join them.
Her vision had adjusted enough that she could make out his features now. They were rough and his eye shadow made his gaze startlingly sharp, but there was a softness to his face when the exact meaning of her words registered for him.
"You want to see them again, don't you?"
And his voice was deep, deeper and louder than she would like to ear any other day, but his energy surged in sympathy and a deep sheathed dwell of longing tainted his energy, making him all but blend with the shadows cast on his face.
"I want to see mine too, kiddo" he confided and Akako believed him, she could feel it on her skin, on the familiar goosebumps grief caused in a person's energy, it was on him and on her and it had been on every one of her nee-sans until Akako was the only one left, "But they will keep waiting for us no matter how long we take."
And-
And damn him.
Damn him.
She hated him so damn much.
How dare he tell her this? Now, now that she was at the border and so sweetly close?
She wanted to rest.
"Would they want you to join them so young?" he asked, the corners of his lips pulling upwards though there was no mirth on it, he tasted of grief and longing and every dark corner she had wanted to fall in, but he hadn't giving up and he wasn't letting her do it either, "Mine would be disappointed."
Mine wouldn't care, she wanted to spit just to contradict him, just to give one last fuck you to this world before she kicked it.
But his eyes- his eyes were kind. Honest.
And she didn't have the energy to lie, not to this man and not even to herself.
Her sisters had told her to hide. Had cared and bathed and fed her since she had become aware of the world in this new, foreign body, and she had grieved for all she lost but they had been there for her from the start. They hadn't let her give up. They had pulled her along until she had learned to walk. Her sisters hadn't known why she grieved, why their quiet sister cried and hugged them too often and too tight, but they had asked no questions before loving her enough to mend all the broken pieces inside of her.
They would have wanted her to live.
And her brothers- she choked. It hurt to think. It hurt to remember. It hurt to think about what they would say about this. About her simply giving up.
They had seen her through doctors and clinics and a hundred side effects of new medication. It hadn't stopped the seizures. It hadn't stopped the fear.
But it had been better.
She had gotten better because of them and thanks to them.
They would be heartbroken.
She couldn't hurt them like that.
She wouldn't be able to look them in the face if she gave up. Disappointment she could dealt with. Anger, too. But hurting her brothers?
She would damn her own soul before retorting to that.
So when the man tried again, raising his bottle to let her take a few tentative sips, she drank.
She would see them again.
But not yet. Not yet.
They would keep waiting for her, won't they? They had always been so much more patient than her.
So Akako would live.
Akako would live until she couldn't and only then would she see rest.
They will be waiting for her.
So there was no hurry for her to catch up. Not when it would only make them sad.
Akako refused to hurt her loved ones.
So she kept drinking and drinking until the sweet relief of water made her cough again, but she cupped the spit on her hands and licked it all up.
Clean water was precious and she didn't know where or when she would get some more.
She still looked accusingly at the man when her ribs hurt. Honestly, this was all his fault.
And he?
He smiled at her! The nerve!
But it was a nice smile, a soft smile, one reflected in the soothing embrance his shadow cast on her form, so she let herself smile big and happy because she had much to thank him for even if she was still angry with him.
Children's emotions were so confusing. She couldn't make head or tails of them, but smiling felt right so Akako did just that.
.
.
.
His wrist was broken. It was a fact. He had gotten overconfident, relied on his speed too much and this time the enemy had been faster than his shadow and faster than his body. They were still dead but his wrist was broken and damn if that wasn't inconvenient in a warzone.
Yes, it wasn't a ninja war zone but the ninja who told you they were above two handed handsigns was an idiot.
Ensui cast an eye around and his lip curled.
It was a mess.
He had seen only one of the Great Wars, but this wasn't the first time he had seen the aftermath of a civil war. A civilian one at that. There were no grand jutsu involved, no one man armies and no legendary techniques to change the game's rules from under your feet.
Just hard, cold tactics.
This was a central town for shipment. The swamps surrounding it acted like a barrier but the long, deep canal behind the town connected directly to a river that, in turn, let you carry goods of any quality and quantity much more securely than going by foot on the Swamp Lands.
Since there were two feudal lords, cousins, on the same country ruling somewhat simultaneously it wasn't to anyone's surprise that a small war broke out.
Sabotaging the trading deals of the cousin who lived southwards - and downstream - was only natural if you wanted to weaken his economy, the faith of his vassals and his power in general.
In theory it was a sound, effective strategy.
In practice it resulted on a big, lively town like this to be hit in the dark by fiery arrows and barrage after barrage of loyal warriors - thugs with a pretty name - to burn and plunder whatever they found. So long as the town was hit hard enough to stop trading the lives lost were somewhat of an afterthought.
Shogi was so much cleaner than life, he thought as another draft of burning wood and waste hit his nose.
He changed his course so he wasn't hitting the smell directly and used water walking to walk near the swamps, above the water. As he walked he could see some scavengers and survivors searching the rubble for anything useful but they ignored him as soon as they noticed his forehead protector.
The Swamp Lands had no shinobi but even they knew to recognize a forehead protector when they saw one. It inspired fear regardless of the country.
Sensible if you asked him. His village certainly wasn't any nicer than the others to its enemies.
Or its friends, if rumors were to be believed.
(He did. He was a Nara and they paid special attention to the shadows. His village had plenty of them.)
As he walked he started to feel an itch on his hand. His injured one.
It was downright annoying since he couldn't inspect the wound if he didn't want to catch whatever nastiness rested in the air of the Swamp Lands. He swore there was moss growing on his hair.
He came at a dissection on his path. One turned right, near the burnt houses and the other out, to the swamps. Both would lead him to his awaiting team, one simply had people and the other had bogs to go through.
Left or right?
His hand itched again.
Left it was.
As Ensui walked and the houses were more and more sparce until there was nothing but nature and trees left, he head a soft wheezing sound, like a strangled cat coughing up a furball. In respect to his ancestors and their revered no-effort policy, he ignored it.
It came again, and he ignored it.
Then he advanced a few more steps, it sounded fainter but his ears were still catching it.
He sighed and looked skywards, to the blood red sky, so very similar to his left arm. It was a pretty sunset, he knew.
Then a loud thud resounded on the still air after the worst wheeze he had heard on his life, miserable and pitiful. He was a killer but he had some decency. He would get the cat out of the damn hole it had fallen in.
Mind made, he followed the direction the sound had come from. His path ended in a twisted tree, its roots so big and bent a big dog could easily walk beneath them. Perhaps it was a dog? He liked dogs.
A chunk of bark had fallen between a pair of roots and Ensui moved them, determined to put the cat or dog or whatever animal he had found this time out of its self induced misery.
... It wasn't quite the animal he had thought.
It was small, yes.
And miserable.
But it was a child. A human child.
He was so not trained for this.
He could walk away but- his eyes kept looking back at the child- a little girl. She had flinched when he'd taken the bark off and her small body was twisted into a tight ball, the smallest target possible. She was huddled between the roots like she half wanted to blend with them and Ensui could just imagine another child in her place.
A boy.
Older. Bigger.
But just as scared and lost. Hoping, hoping, hoping no enemy found him before his team because he would be so screwed if someone else found him.
Someone else had.
But it had been his brother so it had been alright.
Ensui had been prepared to die at any moment those days. Five whole days and six nights hiding in a half melted building inside Rain Country, with water clinging to his skin and coldcoldcold creeping up his arms as he rationed his soldier pills and kept his chakra in so that he wouldn't call an entire platoon into his head if he just sneezed at the wrong time.
So Ensui sighed and resigned himself to his heart, yet again, pulling him into another troublesome situation.
He crouched besides her and waited. Just until she woke up and could move, mind.
.
.
.
She glared at him! She drank all his water and then she had the nerve to glare at him like an offended kitten left in the rain. What a troublesome child.
But then she was smiling, she was smiling at him with too many teeth, honest and big and now she truly looked like a kid and not something worse, so Ensui let it go.
In the end, he crouched down.
He should be making a quick getaway to the camp but his job was done and he couldn't leave her like this.
He couldn't.
The child was alone but her clothes were not so poor she lived here, so it meant someone had abandoned her.
Her, with her too feral smile and her too changing moods.
A kid.
She was just a kid.
He had been this child once, and someone else had refused to leave him alone. Ensui had been abandoned but someone had found him and given him hope.
He doubted he could ever measure up to his brother but damn if he wouldn't give it his best.
It couldn't be that difficult to find a refugee camp, could it?
.
.
.
So he didn't find a refugee camp. The child was still sleeping, his wrist was still broken and any moment now someone back at camp would come looking for him.
… He would take her with them for a few days. Until they found an orphanage or somewhere that wasn't on the brink of civil war.
As he picked up his pace and took care not to jostle her head too much, Ensui had the oddest feeling that someone, somewhere, was laughing at him.