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"Now, we will focus on Bomba," Chiasa says. Everyone else in the class perks up immediately. I've learned so many different dances from Uzu in the last few weeks, but Bomba is not one of them.
Chiasa starts handing out white skirts to the girls in the room. I slip mine on like the rest of the girls do and notice the faint shimmer of glitter against the bright white, long and poofy skirt. Some girls start to wrap their hair in a matching white turban as Chiasa motions for me to sit at the front of the room against the mirrors that line the front wall.
A couple of the boys from the other classes come into the room wearing white shirts, white pants, and white hats.
I hate feeling singled out in a class like this, but I try to relax against the mirror behind my back. I relish in the cool feeling, already overheated from the salsa class before this one.
The door to the dance studio opens again and this time it's a group of men and women with drums, some wooden sticks, and a different instrument I vaguely recognize from somewhere. The drummers come sit next to me in the corner at the front of the room. One of the older men, his black hair graying slightly, sits on a stool next to me, a drum in front of him.
"This is a Subidor," he says. "And that is a Buleador," he points to another drum nearby. "The Subidor scores sounds for the steps of the dancers and the Buleador follows the rhythm."
"Oh," I say as I look at the large drums. They're wooden, something I wasn't expecting. A woman stands next to the older man next to me as she sets up a stand, a smaller drum sits on it as she holds the wooden sticks I saw earlier.
"That is a Cuá," he points to her setup.
"And that is a maraca," he says as he points to another man in the group who is holding the other instrument that I somewhat recognized. "Each dancer tells a story through their steps and the music follows them through that story."
"That's so cool," I whisper as I see the others start to line up at the back of the room. Chiasa motions for a girl with long black hair to start, and I'm immediately in awe. She walks in, strolling around a portion of the room with her head held high as she holds her skirt in her hands.
"She's marking her space," the old man leans next to me to whisper. She walks around some more before she walks up to the Subidor and greets the drum with a bow. And then she begins tapping her feet on the ground slowly as she moves around her space. It's slow and somewhat sensual as she moves around, she moves her body and the instruments move in time with her movements.
She smiles slightly before speeding up her movements. Now they're less sensual and more aggressive, the drums speed up, in a seemingly endless game of cat and mouse. It's beautiful. She starts to speed up even more, changing up her rhythm as she looks at the musicians, as if she's challenging them.
"Speak!" The old man next to me yells as the dancer does a powerful turn. She continues like this for a few minutes before she slows down just a little. She smiles widely as she catches her breath and seems to practically float over to the drum where she bows once again. Everyone in the room claps and I join in.
The girl sits beside me, nudging me and pointing to the back of the line.
"What?" I ask quietly. "There's no way 'ttbane!"
"You can learn the basics of Bomba, but no one can teach you steps to follow," she says as she pats my arm. I look at her for a minute. "Go, before he starts!" She nods towards a boy I'd seen in a couple of my other hip hop classes. I huff and gather my skirt in my hands.
The old man claps softly beside me as I stand up and run across the room to the back of the line. Chiasa smiles at the girl at the front before turning her smile to me. The boy makes his way to the drums and bows, just as the girl before him. Soon he's caught in the same song and dance as the girl before him, but it's completely different. Their footsteps are in different time signatures, their movements are not similar at all. But they follow the same flow of starting with a bow, starting slow, speeding up, and then bowing once again.
Despite the different paths they take, they each follow the same formula
"Good, good!" Chiasa calls after he takes his seat by the girl against the mirror. "Now, can someone explain the first section of the dances after the dancer bows to the Primo?"
"It's Sicá!" The girl in front of me calls out. "It's the slowest and is normally at the beginning of the dance narrative."
"Correct!" Chiasa says. "And the next portion?"
"Yubá," the boy from the front says. "It's faster than Sicá and it's normally associated with more aggressive and powerful displays."
"But it's also used to convey sadness and intensity," another boy in the class says.
"Good!" Chiasa says. "There is also Holandés which is faster and more upbeat than the other two rhythms. Good job all of you, let's continue!"
The dancing continues. It's mesmerizing. Watching the dancers confidently take the floor is unlike any other class I've been in so far. I love watching the skirts move and hearing the rhythm of feet hitting the floor. The sounds of the skirts moving add to the music of the drums, maracas, and the dancer's feet. I'm caught up in it all.
Until the person before me begins to dance. She seems to have the most grace and experience with this than anyone else who has gone before. And that's saying something. They all seem to be professionals! She twirls around the room, only lightly competing with the instruments. But in reality, it just feels like nothing can compete with her, it's like the story she tells with her feet is the only important thing in the room.
But then she bows at the drums and Chiasa is pushing me towards them as the other girl sits down. I start to shake my head but the others at the front of the room start clapping and encouraging me. I take a shaky breath as I stand in front of the older man from earlier. He smiles at me, but it looks as if he's about to start crying at any moment. I try to smile, I'm sure it comes out as more of a grimace, but I lower the upper half of my body into a bow towards the drums. It feels ironic in a way. I haven't bowed for another human in I don't know how long, but I'm bowing to this drum.
As I bow, I look at the bottom of the drum more closely. It looks older, well used. Almost like it came from another time. As I start to stand, I see flashes of Uzu. I hear the caws of the parrots, the screeches of the monkeys. I feel the light island breeze and can almost taste the salt in the air.
"Speak!" The old man calls out. I look over to see him smiling widely, along with the other musicians. I hadn't even realized I started dancing. I feel my feet moving and hear the slower sounds of my feet. I grip onto my skirt tightly, realizing I hadn't used it before. Was that okay?
I move the skirt as I turn my body slightly, and soon I feel myself speeding up. I think of the explanations of Yubá. I'm not powerful like Kakashi or Naruto. I'll never be a powerhouse like them, I've finally started to accept that fact. I will be a different type of shinobi.
So what am I supposed to do here? If I'm not powerful, how am I going to be a good leader of Uzushiogakure? I make moderate steps around the room. I know I'm stalling. What were the other descriptions for Yubá? I don't want to dance aggressively, I'm not confident enough for that yet.
Sadness.
I'd had a lot of that in the last few years. I think of Uzu again. Instead of hearing the island alive like before, I remember the deathly quiet. The blood. The destruction.
My feet begin to move faster, my steps heavier.
The loss of life. The loneliness of thinking Naruto and I were the only descendants of Uzushiogakure. The loud night I had to run to the basement when explosions tested the barriers of the island.
I feel the burden of being the princess of a splintered nation drag me down. My feet stomp against the floor, my shoulders heave trying to hold my head up high as I'm almost pulled under.
But then I remember the quiet nights spent over seals. The laughter of Ichika and Itsuki when I fell for one of their pranks. The proud gleam in Ren's eyes when I pulled off a tactical move he suggested. The excited looks from Akihiko, Akako, and Aiya when I told them my name at their breakfast stall.
I feel everything all at once and I'm lost in the emotions and the movement of my feet and the fabric of the skirt.
And then suddenly I feel refreshed. Unlike the exhaustion I should feel with my labored breathing and shaking body. I make my way over to the Primo and bow before I walk a few steps forward and drop back to the ground in my original spot. I vaguely hear the clapping and cheers from the other dancers and the musicians.
But the thing I hear clearest of all is the happy laughter from the old man beside me as tears run down his face.
"My legs feel like noodles," I groan as I struggle to keep up with Bee. He laughs. The traitor. After learning about Bomba in my dance class last night and the intense training I did with Bee earlier, I'm just about ready to stop running in the middle of the trail we're on and lay down and take a nap. Just like Shikamaru would do if he didn't want to spar when we were in the academy.
I'm about to make another comment when I feel it. My words die in my throat and I stop running but not from laziness. Bee quickly stops and turns back to check on me, but I can't say anything. I rub my hands on my thighs like Ren taught me to do, but it doesn't work.
The panic attack slams into my body. My chest tightens as I struggle to take in short breaths. Minoru's death plays on repeat in my mind and I can't get the images to stop. I feel pain in my arms but ignore it. The images change from Minoru's death to seeing Reiji get attacked by the Root agent on our way back to the village. The scream he let out still shatters my eardrums.
The paralyzing fear I felt locked in the basement with Kairi as I felt so many different Root chakra signatures along the borders of Uzushiogakure. Had this been the way Kahana felt the night Uzu was attacked?
All of a sudden I'm out of Uzu and I'm back in mine and Naruto's crappy apartment. I'm on the floor with just a seal I've never applied and a clunky kunai I don't know how to use in my hands. All I can think of is that he needs to live. No matter what he needs to live.
And I know that there's no way Tenzo or Genma can come and save me now. I'm alone, I'm alone I'm alone-
Everything stops and I'm pulled under.
"Kikuko?" A gentle voice asks.
"Mabui?" I hear a few sighs of relief as I blink open my eyes. The normally bright Raikage's office is dimly lit. I turn my head to see Mabui sitting in a chair next to me. "Of course you'd put me down on exercise equipment," I try to tease, but it doesn't get anyone in the room to smile. The Raikage looks much older than he did at breakfast this morning as he leans over a scroll on his desk.
Bee sits in a chair on the other side of me. I feel his hand carding through my hair and force my muscles to relax. Darui and C lean against the windows of the office that look out into the village. Both look unhappy. Akihiko sits at my feet, for the first time since I met him, there's not a smile on his face.
"What the hell happened?" The Raikage asks, his voice its regular tenor despite the weathered look on his face.
"I had a panic attack?"
"He meant to ask, what triggered your panic attack?" Mabui says quietly as she rests her hand against my forehead. I close my eyes at her cool touch and try not to freak out again.
If I tell them, this could start a war. If I don't tell them, Root could find my cousins and target them, or even worse take them back to Konoha. Almost all of the descendants of Uzu live in a neighborhood together close to the Raikage tower. Instead of being shoved in a clan compound on the outskirts of the village like the Uchiha were in Konoha, Uzu descendants were at the center of Kumo.
The most protected.
I've only been in the neighborhood a couple of times, but it was painful each time. It was like a smaller version of Uzushiogakure. Whenever a shinobi, ambassador, or council member from a major hidden village would come to Kumo, the entrance to the neighborhood is undetectable thanks to a strong genjutsu seal.
And while Uzu culture was everywhere in Kumo, none of the other villages, including Konoha, learned enough about Uzu to realize it. Other villages still think Kumo was involved in the destruction of Uzu and the Raikage uses it as another layer of protection for us.
All of this thought and planning and careful implementation is what has kept my people here alive for so long. I know that they're happy here, that while they'll want to visit Uzu eventually, they won't want to leave what has become their home. I won't rebuild Uzushiogakure like I had dreamed of.
Uzushiogakure has become more than just our home island. It's us.
And I have to do everything I can to protect my village. Even if it's going to go against Konohagakure. I take a shaky breath and open my eyes. Everyone looks even more concerned than they were earlier. This won't go well. But I have to do it anyway. Dad said I can trust them. Sensei told me I need to trust others.
"I know who framed Kumo in the attack on Uzushiogakure," I say quietly. The room is deathly silent. "They're still operating and they - they killed my teammate when they tried to k-kill me." Suddenly I'm in Akihiko's lap, his arms are wrapped around me tightly. I feel his head rest on top of my own and despite how strong he's trying to be for me, I can feel that he's shaking a little, just like I am.
"Who?" The Raikage asks, his voice is softer than I ever thought it could be, but I can hear the rage behind his question. Yes, Kumo used the belief that they were involved to their advantage, but they hated it. Uzu and Kumo were going to be allies, true sister villages unlike how Konoha treated Uzu.
"They're called Root," I say tentatively.
"Root?" Darui asks. I nod against Akihiko's chest.
"It's an underground organization that operates outside of its village. Its leader acts on his own and against his Kage's wishes. There's a seal that's placed on their tongue, whenever they try to talk about the organization they're entire body freezes."
"I don't want to know how you know all this shit, kid," the Raikage says as he drops his head on his hand.
"There's more," I whisper.
"Of course there's more," A says under his breath. I feel my lips twitch into a small smile before I continue.
"The organization was officially disbanded before I was born, but it was reinstated without the permission of the Kage. The leader of Root even managed to get a seal into the hat of the Kage to control them." The Raikage just groans and sinks lower in his seat. "The Root agents look exactly like an Anbu agent, but they wear a blank mask."
"Kid, how do you know all of this?" The Raikage cuts in.
"I thought you said you didn't want to know?" I ask weakly. He gives me a deadpan look and I sigh, leaning closer to Akihiko.
"I've been watched by Root agents off and on since I was five years old. That I know of, at least. They could've started watching sooner."
"What?" There's the Raikage's famous anger. His shout rings through the room, but I feel the thrum of the silencing seal and know that I'm safe to continue.
"I informed the Hokage that Root was watching the Uchiha compound."
"And what did the Hokage do?" Mabui asks. A looks too angry to even speak.
"I don't know for sure, all I know is that Root was banned from clan compounds."
"And not disbanded? What is that old fool doing?" The Raikage starts to rant and I sigh as I watch him get worked up.
"Root has managed to control him for one," I answer the Raikage's question, stopping his rant for the moment. He breathes heavily as he turns from the scroll he was writing on to look at me. "Two, if there's no counter seal there's no way he can try to disband it without Root's leader starting a civil war within the village."
"Who the hell is leading it?"
"Shimura Danzo." There's silence for a brief moment and then-
"The councilmember?" Mabui asks.
"The mummy?" Darui asks.
"The one with the cane up his ass?" C asks.
"That annoying regulation quoting bastard?" The Raikage asks.
"Gyuki said there's something off about him the last time we saw him," Bee says, the most calm person in the room. Akihiko doesn't say anything, he just holds me tighter.
"That's probably because he's stolen a few eyes from the Uchiha clan," I tell Bee.
"What the fuck?" Akihiko finally asks.
"Well, I think he stole them, but there's multiple chakra signatures where he stands and it's like the chakra is always working. You can't turn off a sharingan if you're not born with it, ya know?"
"How do you know that Kikuko?" Akihiko groans as he tilts his head back to look at the ceiling. I force myself not to laugh. This is a serious conversation. But it's still funny to catch him off guard.
"Kakashi-niisan always took care of me and Naruto."
"Of course you call the copy-cat ninja your brother," A huffs from his seat. "But at least someone had some sense to look after you."
"The Nara took care of us, too. The hospital always turned us away, but they've got this really good clinic. They've got leather chairs instead of the flimsy plastic ones in the hospital-"
"You're not going back there," Akihiko says.
"Yes I am," I say as I look up at him. He looks at me, his brown eyes filled with worry.
"Kikuko you're not safe there-"
"I'm not safe anywhere so long as Shimura Danzo lives. No descendant of Uzushiogakure is safe as long as he lives."
"So stay out of Konoha until he dies-"
"Aki-niisan I can't do that and you know that." Akihiko glares, but his eyes soften at the new nickname. "I've already decided when I'm ready I'm going back to Konoha and making Shimura Danzo's life a living hell."
"And how are you going to do that?" A asks. I smile over at the Raikage.
"Well, first I'm going to get promoted to jonin as fast as possible, they always wanted me and Naruto to fail."
"They?" Mabui asks.
"The elders," I shrug. "But what they'd hate even more is if I became clan head and out politicize them." The Raikage opens his mouth and then closes it. He leans over onto his desk to look at me.
"You can do that and we'll start making things harder for him now."
"You don't have-" he stops my sentence with a look.
"Akihiko, Darui, take her out into the hall while we talk about all of this." There's no room to argue with the Raikage. I turn to look back at Bee who gives me an encouraging smile. I feel Mabui reach over and squeeze my arm for a second before Akihiko and I stand to walk out of the room.
"Wait!" A says as I'm almost to the door. I turn around and look at him. "What triggered you to have a panic attack about Root?"
"Oh," I say as I feel my cheeks burn. In the explanation about Root I'd forgotten the entire reason the conversation started. "I felt a Root agent outside of the village borders, it feels dark." I shake my head, "I didn't think they'd send one here, I thought they'd just station them between here and Uzu like last time-"
"Last time?" Bee asks. I bite my lip as I move the top of my shirt a bit to show the scar that crosses the top of my right shoulder. I feel Bee's anger. It's the first time I've felt anger burn in his chakra. But unlike the rolling storm of anger I would feel from Kakashi or the burning flame from Genma, Bee's chakra is like getting struck by lightning.
"I was attacked on my way back to Uzu by a Root agent. I killed them," I say as I see A about to walk to the window to call for Anbu. "I think there's a self destruction part of their seal now, too. I was going to save the body for evidence in Konoha, but it kinda blew up on its own."
"I need a fucking drink," A says as he stands and walks towards a filing cabinet on the side of the room. "And you kids need to get outside in the hall while we decide how to deal with this bullshit. How many did you feel, Kikuko?"
"Three," I say quietly.
"Thank you for telling us all of this, Kikuko-hime," Mabui says.
"Go," A says as he nods at the door. I see him pull a bottle of sake out of the cabinet as I walk out of the room. We walk down the empty hall and sit in front of one of the large windows that overlooks the village. I lean back against the cool glass and flinch when it vibrates from the sound of the Raikage's yells.
Darui and Akihiko push closer to both sides of me, trapping me between them. Akihiko pulls out his whittling project while Darui pulls out a comic book. I try to focus on the sounds of pages turning and the knife scratching at the wood.
I feel my head drop on Akihiko's shoulder. I don't fight the urge to close my eyes. The feeling after a panic attack is the worst. My eyes hurt, my chest hurts, my head hurts. It doesn't take long before I let the darkness of sleep overwhelm me.