I am not exactly a hard-to-amuse person. A book is all I need for hours of entertainment. However, I am not used to so many people constantly pestering me about what I am doing. At the orphanage, there were enough kids that NO ONE could get special attention. True doting was few and far between.
When I moved in with Ami though we looked out for each other, we were at the same time very independent individuals who had been raised to be so. Not to mention there were the unspoken things that they both silently agreed to ignore.
Eve in my past life as Paigemhparents we're fairly laisser fair in style. They believed in individuality and pushing bounds. My mother had apparently been quite the protester in her youth and my father had apparent rebelled going goth as str age as the happy expressive man acting in such a way seemed. J never really needed to 'rebel' because I had so much freedom.
However, now at the Akimichi household, there WERE people like that. People who cared and wanted to make sure I was ok but were very much get into your business types. It was nice… but annoying because with someone looking over my shoulder, I couldn't DO what I usually did. The amount of training I usually did.
At least I wasn't being spied on by ANBU… that thought had crossed my mind after everything that happened, but no, I was not, maybe because it would be an insult to the Akimichi clan. Or perhaps because I simply couldn't sense them.
Still, the extra eyes forcing me to stop my training were not appreciated. I needed to move, work, and improve because when I wasn't doing that? I was thinking of Yota. I was thinking of my friends that might as well be dead because… they wouldn't know me. Naruto would be back to hating me. Shikamaru wouldn't play Shogi with me. Ino wouldn't braid my hair. Sakura wouldn't talk about books with me. And Kiba wouldn't play tag with me. It was like having a flotation device only to have it stolen. To be given a blanket and then dumped with cold water. I was alone again. Not completely alone, sure. Ami still CUDDLED me at night, which was new. Choji still was there for me. I appreciate them. However, at the same time, I still missed the others.
A part of me had to remember I was taking this so hard because I was six. That I probably averted disaster many times over. That Yota for all his innocence, for all of how he reminded me of my brothers… he was dangerous.
I tried not to think about that. I was being irrational with the spark of something almost akin to hate for disposable how big of tools children in this world seemed to be. I wanted to distract myself more and more but with my dominant hand out of commission, I couldn't even practice writing. I could go read more, but I was just stuck. I needed something to do!
"Sayori-chan, would you like to help me go shopping?" Natsumi-Baasan asks, seemingly sensing my restlessness. Honestly, other than the eyes watching me, living with the Akimichi clan is AMAZING three delicious meals a day, a warm bed, and people that actually care. In this life it was unfamiliar.
"Yes, please." I say animatedly, making the woman nearly laugh. I walk beside her through the compound, many recognizing me from my morning runs. I wave kindly back. We go through a farmers market that though usually abandoned at the time of my morning run, is now busting with haggling men and women. It's an overwhelming buzz of chakra, and I think that's…
You have sensed killing intent!
I shutter and feel a numbing deep calm chase away the intimidation. Right, haggling, just… you know… ninja style.
I could never touch these prices on my own. It's one of the reasons I am so reliant on Yataka; he gives me REALLY good prices.
"Stay close and remember to keep a straight face. So not let them smell your fear." Natsumi says seriously, and I almost choke on my laughter, but the killing intent in the air makes me a little more hesitant to do so.
"R-right…" I say and feel a little silly. They can't all be retired ninjas, can they? Then again, who says they're even retired?
"Haggling is an art form," Natsumi-baasan says sagely, and I shrug as I follow her into the lion's den.
We walk between stalls, and I blink, slightly amazed. I thought that Ami was hard to win an argument against, but Natsumi-baasan? She would be a terrible debate enemy. Stall after stall, the merchants bend to Natusimi's prices. Some of them put up more of a fight than others, a man who is, judging by the large scar over his jaw, must be a 'retired shinobi' looks ready to have things get physical but doesn't. I mentally snort, though, at the thought of a 'retired' shinobi. There is no such thing, as far as I can see. Shinobi isn't just a career like I may have thought when I was younger. It was a culture, a creed, a way of life as crucial to its followers as oxygen. Even the civilians of this village have splashes of it when compared to my old world. The way that weapons make good birthday gifts to children. The early independence. Now seeing killing intent used as an intimidation tactic, even coming from a civilian like Natsumi (and boy, does she have some potent killing intent) over the price of some pickled mushrooms that are apparently rare and from the land of swamps… or is a total bluff… well it really drives the point home.
I appear to be more of a living shopping cart for this expedition, quietly holding bags as they begin to tower in my arms, and I worry I will soon have to start dragging them. Another blast of killing intent hidden by a sweet smile and a pale stall owner, now I'm guessing by the fact that the man's hands are rough but not well tended to like someone who has ready access to medical ninjutsu (I mean a broken wrist healed in two weeks? It's really impressive what it can do.) He nods furiously, practically shoving a bag of roots at Natsumi, who nods, and the killing intent fades. Even as we walk away, the stall owner is still shaking.
"Baasan?" I say in an amused voice though touched with just a hint of seriousness.
"Hm…?" Natsumi says, not fully broken from the high of that last win. If her eye smile is anything to go by. "Yes, Sayori-chan?" She asks sweetly, and I let my own smile turn sickly sweet like I had that time with Kiba, though, by comparison, I am an amateur, I realize.
"Your scary," I state simply, still smiling. Natsumi nearly trips for a moment and perhaps looks ready to apologize. (Maybe wondering if she used too much killing intent, given I am very young, thought the fact a civilian woman can use killing intent is impressive) "Teach me?" I ask nicely, and suddenly a spark of glee enters the large Akimichi woman's eyes.
"Of course…" She all but coos, taking a few of the bags from my now sore arms and placing a hand on my shoulder, bending down, eyes not on me but another stall reminding me of a lioness stalking a gazelle. "Remember, you're the one in control. They need you more than you need them. Anything less than the best is an insult. Hold your ground and don't back down…." She explains, and I notice things about the store owner, how they too seem new, not as new but new all the same, an easier target than the veteran stall owners. "Let your feelings bubble up and seep out of you without words. Bring them up, then down, make them laugh, then cry. I'll coach you more after." Natsumi says, patting my shoulder in a gentle push as though she had not just basically been telling me how to psychologically mess with the stall owner.
I approach the owner feeling my emotions missing with chakra and preparing to bubble. I should go shopping like this more often.
Energy Flaring Proficiency Level has risen X1
New energy unlocked Killing-Intent.