The latest arc is over but the issues are really just beginning. So many issues. Hopefully Sakura and everyone else are prepared…but let's be real here. It's more interesting when they're not. XD
Someone asked last chapter about everyone's ages, and I've honestly just forgotten to bring that up until now.
Sakura-17
Izuna-20
Tobirama-21
Madara-22 (but mentally 9 right now)…almost 23
Hashirama-23 as of ch.15
Toka & Naoko-25
Of course, everyone will keep aging, just as a head's up. Also, small side note that despite everything that's happened, all the events of this arc have taken place in roughly a week and a half from start to finish.
Hashirama knew that when Tobirama came to drag him into the office there was a chance his brother might have a silent, dignified mental crisis. What would actually happen to his younger brother if he didn't have to make a schedule based on ordering him around for half the day?
The Hokage was fairly sure it had become a part of Tobirama's reason for living a long time ago, no matter how exasperated he acted. He wouldn't take kindly to the fact that he'd only been humoring him all along; though Hashirama admitted at times he enjoyed toying with Tobirama's patience more than he should… Then again, that was a perk of having a sibling.
Had his thoughts been less troubled, he might have found room for amusement in all of it. But he just wasn't in the mood. It hadn't been a restful night. Hashirama couldn't help but let his thoughts keep wondering back to whatever was going on in Water Country. Hopefully he'd made the right choice.
Climbing the spiraling steps to the office, he took his time, smoothing a hand over the grains of wood that made up the walls, his arms more than long enough to touch them in the narrow, enclosed space.
He so clearly remembered building the Hokage Tower as if it were yesterday, working tirelessly to construct the village with his clansmen and the Uchiha at his side. Now, it had grown so much in such a short time, people flocking to share in the dream every day. The academy would be complete soon and would usher in the next generation of Konoha shinobi, eager young minds ready to learn about what he called the Will of Fire.
Hashirama reached the top step, took a deep breath, and then pushed his way into his office. Everything was like he'd left it: quiet, arranged, calm. The same scrolls on the walls. The same neatly stacked paperwork. The same beautiful bonsai he cherished so dearly.
Drifting around the space, he ended up at the window just behind his desk, prying it open and leaning out to sniff the cool, early morning air. Spring was probably his favorite season, but fall wasn't without its own merits. And it had definitely settled deeply over the land.
Turning his face to the sky, he watched the sun crest over the horizon, the village bathed in a soft orange glow that spotted the ground in shadows as the last vestiges of night gave way to sunrise. There was something so soothing about the consistency of nature, he thought with a small smile, appreciating the smell of wet earth. Today, the sun was rising.
As it would rise tomorrow, and the day after, and long past the point where he had become a relic of the past. All over the world, no matter what clan they hailed from, or what region they called home, people took in the same sight. They shared the same sunrise. In that breathtaking moment, all Hashirama truly wanted was for the sun to keep rising and falling on Konoha forever.
A great shadow fell sudden and heavy, and Hashirama glanced up with alarm. Illuminated in a wash of golds and oranges, a bird circled overhead. Craning his neck to the right and squinting, he noticed with mild horror that this was a big eagle. His heart jumped as he thought back to his last encounter with the larger-than-average raptor. The bird had looked him over as if he had decided not to eat him on a whim. Now, he was apparently back to finish what he'd started!
Hashirama started to close the window, noticing the eagle getting ready to land. The latch was almost secure when a beak wedging its way under it and wrenching the window wide open made him withdraw both hands in shock.
'So fast!' Too quickly for the naked eye the creature had descended and stuck his sleek black head into the office with one fluid motion. Shinta, if he recalled correctly, eyed him with sharp indignity, not believing he would dare try and bar him from entering.
With a chastising scream, he stepped back, allowing Hashirama to see he once again had a scroll tucked into the harness around his chest. A message from Izuna?
"I'll take that," he said, slowly inching his arm forward. Shinta reached down and plucked up the message, the roll of paper ridiculous clutched in his large beak. If Hashirama didn't know any better he'd say the gleam in the bird's golden eyes was…taunting.
Was he…holding a grudge? "I didn't mean any offense," Hashirama said carefully. "It was rude of me and I didn't realize you had a message. You probably came a long way to get it here so swiftly."
The bird tilted his head in consideration, as if to say, 'Keep going,'
"You're definitely the fastest flying Summon I've ever seen." Hashirama praised, noticing Shinta swivel his head back with pride. "Maybe even faster than any Summon I've encountered." The eagle soaked in the flattery, ruffling his shiny sepia-colored chest feathers. Up close, he really was a striking animal. All the way down to his neck, he was dark as midnight, but his body was a nice shade of lighter brown, his feet and the skin around his eyes reddish-orange. When he briefly stretched his wings Hashirama saw a pattern alternating between gray and black with white undersides. It was truly fitting for Madara to have a Summon as flashy as he was.
He stretched his face forward, offering the scroll, and Hashirama's lips stretched in a grin. His hand had only just brushed over the waxy paper when suddenly the bird turned his neck and flung the missive.
Stunned, Hashirama felt the scroll smack him hard across the cheek as Shinta threw his head back in a fit of caws that sounded suspiciously like laughter. Eyes narrowing, he rubbed his cheek as the bird disappeared in a cloud of smoke. 'What an attitude.' Hashirama leaned over and picked the scroll up from the sill, inspecting it first to make sure there was no damage, then carefully unfurling it.
It was a different handwriting than before, every word neat, close together and slanting. "I apologize in advance for whatever Shinta's done. He's wild, but if a message needs to arrive in a hurry there's no faster way. Any other messenger bird would take days. I think you'll be relieved to know that the situation has been contained as best as it can be. While they'd both probably say they've seen better days, Madara and Sakura are coming home in one piece. We all are. I wouldn't say this was an easy assignment, but I think the details are better shared in person. Even then they may take…a while for you to process.
We set sail from Water Country today. Sakura's assured me she's already arranged for our voyage back. I'll send another message once we arrive in Yumegakure, but I doubt Shinta would bring another one any sooner than that. Just getting him to carry this required a ridiculous amount of bribery."
Hashirama gave the message a once over, not sure what to make of the bizarre, brief report. On the whole it was promising; Izuna and the others had managed to make it in time, and that was what was most important. Everything else, like insisting they talk about details in person was confusing but understandable.
Especially if it was sensitive information or something unforeseen that made a hiccup in negotiations. Then there was the issue of Shinta evidently being belligerent even toward members of the clan he was in servitude to. The bird had Izuna treading carefully it was like the roles were reversed. Hashirama had never seen a more willful Summon before in his life.
Sighing, his eyes skimmed over and caught on certain words again. A familiar kunoichi's name stood out to him. Twice, Izuna had referred to her by only her given name with no trace of the polite honorific he had heard him use when speaking to her previously.
It was such a minute, unimportant thing that hardly deserved any consideration. Not when there were so many other more substantial pieces of information to puzzle over about the note. Hashirama had a seat at his desk, but if he was being truthful he flopped down and hoped the chair was there to catch him.
On the day when they had all met at the Uchiha compound to speak with the clan heads regarding the academy, Izuna and Sakura-san had turned up together, arm in arm and quite comfortable with one another. While he couldn't deny he was a little disappointed not to have a chance to speak to her before the meeting—to go over the plan, of course!—it was something he put aside.
But now…now Hashirama felt some tiny niggling curiosity stirring again, edged in just a hint of doubt. Had something…changed? Between Izuna and Sakura-san? A dropping of honorifics could mean a lot, or it could mean nothing more than Izuna didn't use them to save room on the scroll. 'But there was still enough space left over to write more,' His mind pointed out unhelpfully. Hashirama blew a strand of hair from his eyes and tossed the scroll down, satisfied when it snapped closed again.
His eyes drifted to his bonsai as he dragged some incomplete paperwork closer. Soon it would be time for Bukkai's first repotting. Cherry blossom bonsai did better in winter that way, and a shift of seasons was definitely right on their heels.
Maybe Sakura-san would be interested in the progress the plant had made when she returned. 'Or maybe she'll already have plans and other people she wants to spend her time with?' Hashirama could have hung his head in defeat. For whatever reason his brain was downright mutinous today. Regardless, he was thinking a lot about what could turn out to be nothing.
That settled, he started reading up on the proposal sitting in front of him for more recreational facilities to be built. One of them included a desire to construct an onsen around the recently discovered natural hot springs on the far side of the village. Interested, the Hokage let his mind drift to the benefits of shinobi being able to enjoy a soak after long missions, his quill moving nimbly to sign off on the plans.
It felt like half the island had come to see them off. Sakura looked down at the large jar of kirin mitsu that had been coaxed into her hands, then back up at the smiling villagers she had received it from. "On behalf of us all, thank you," Kou and the rest of the Yuki clan bowed, Sakura and the others bowing in return. All except Madara, who stood rigid and confused.
Sakura was just thankful he was keeping quiet for a change. As it turned out, Yama had altered the memories of the island inhabitants, and everyone believed a diligent pink-haired healer from the mainland had come and saved them all from falling to a terrible illness.
Even little Fuyuko was brought back, and Sakura couldn't help but notice the family from the inn seemed so much happier. Maka hadn't yelled at her son once since the ordeal, and Muyo glowed in a way she'd never seen before.
Not a soul appeared to remember the uprising of the undead, except maybe Takara, who'd had a twinkle to her sightless eyes as she told them she would be taking over as head priestess, guiding the acolytes in the true teachings of Iwanagahime.
"I suppose you using us to get rid of the threat and leaving you to usurp power from your last leader was purely coincidental." Izuna glared.
"Purely," Takara agreed with a coy smile, walking off into the mist.
"This has been an exhausting mission," Yurine exhaled, her shoulders slouching as they walked down the pier. "I'm grateful they don't remember any of that, but I don't think I'll be able to forget it any time soon…"
"No kidding." Kureno seconded. "But hey, at least we got this…uh, tasty blue syrup?" He held up his jar of kirin mitsu. "Someone's already tried it right? It does taste good, doesn't it?"
"It has kirin in the name." Madara mumbled. "What if they gave us kirin blood?"
Everyone cringed, Kureno groaning loudly.
Sakura was still trying to accept this new, blunt Madara who said strange things. Not too long ago that would have never come out of his mouth.
Hoping to change the subject, she searched the line of docked ships, fighting back a smile when she found a familiarly battered vessel sporting a new set of sails. She stopped in front of it abruptly, the others walking behind her nearly running into her back.
"T-This is the one?" Yurine gasped. Her carmine eyes flickered to the name carved into the wood. "Um, are we really sure it has to be this one?" She wrung her hands together. "It's called the Harbinger and I've had enough bad omens to last a lifetime."
Even Izuna was looking uncertain suddenly, his eyes taking in the ship from top to bottom and then glancing her way for reassurance. They all probably thought she was crazy, but after the journey to Water Country, Sakura had absolute trust in Joben and his crew.
Speaking of… "Don'tcha worry a single head on that sunshine head o' yours," Sakura knew instantly her smile had wormed free as the burly, bearded captain came swaggering down the gangway with Junko and Kazu right behind him. "The ol' girl may not look like much a' first glance but she's weathered her share o' storms. Ain't a more reliable vessel out there."
Junko looked the group over, strutting back and forth before making a noise of satisfaction as she came to a stop. "See there's more a ya this time 'round." She muttered, her trusty ladle over one shoulder and the other hand on her cocked hip. "No matter. I'll fatten ya up just the same,"
"Great…" Yurine smiled, sharing a glance with her brother. Izuna was maintaining a polite expression, but Sakura didn't miss the brief, bemused look in his eyes. None of them truly knew what to make of these brash, straightforward sailor folk.
Little Kazu was the last to reach them, stopping several times to wait for a tiny creature darting around his feet. When his hazel eyes locked on Sakura's he all but launched himself into her arms. "I missed you,"
Laughing, she spun him once before setting him down. "Energetic as ever I see."
"And look what I got!" He picked up and showed them all a ginger tabby kitten with bright yellow eyes.
Sakura reached out to stroke its soft head, and a smirk touched her lips as she noticed Izuna seemed keenly interested on the little feline.
"Like cats, do ya?" Joben stroked at his beard. "Well then you'll be happy ta know we picked up some new crew since we left ya, lass." he winked.
Before she could ask what he meant, Ai peered over the side of the ship. "Cap'n!" she shouted through cupped hands. "We're all loaded up n' ready to go!"
"Couldn't a asked for better timin' if I planned it!" he chortled, slapping his knee. "Come on then," he motioned to the Harbinger. "Sea's a waitin' and we've got plenty o' stories we can swap, don't we?"
He marched back up the gangway with Kazu and Junko. Yurine and Kureno hesitantly followed behind them, and as soon as they reached deck, they were met with a chorus of boisterous greetings. Sakura started up after them, but a tug on her arm stopped her. She turned, finding the Uchiha brothers standing there with two entirely different facial expressions. Izuna definitely had some questions, but she didn't see anything except curiosity in his eyes. On the other hand…
Madara, the one who'd stopped her, spoke first. "I don't want to get on that. It looks like one strong wind could sink it." The disdainful frown was so like what he'd done the first time he'd seen the Harbinger, Sakura couldn't help but laugh.
"You think dying at sea is funny?" he hissed.
Sakura shook her head. "It's just that some things don't change I guess. You weren't really impressed the first time around either."
"Sounds right," Madara said, pleased.
"But it got us here," she stopped and thought, "And after a while you really started to like sea life." It was the furthest thing from the truth, of course. While Madara never outright complained, it was so obvious he loathed every minute of the journey. But one harmless white lie in order to get him to cooperate wasn't a bad thing. The plus side of it was it would bring her some amusement as well.
Madara gave her a dubious stare. "I liked…sailing?" He turned to study the ship with new eyes, contemplating it, and Sakura felt guilt settle in her. Without his memories he was a blank slate, vulnerable. Maybe it was best not to take advantage of that…
Feeling ashamed, her eyes flickered to Izuna, sure she'd see his disappointment, but his thoughts were hidden by an unreadable countenance.
"Oi! Comin' aboard?" Inoue yelled down to them. "We're settin' sail here, folks!"
This time Madara climbed up without so much as a complaint, and Sakura couldn't help but wonder just how much he'd already taken her words to heart. Great. She was taking advantage of an amnesiac. Izuna's shoulder brushed hers as he passed, and when she reluctantly looked up, her heart stuttered over the mischievous tilt of his full lips.
"Junji!" Kikue's voice echoed around the corner, reaching him even before she came into sight. Her feet pattering rhythmically across the wood floors, a solid weight clinging to him seconds later. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, her chin falling onto his shoulder. "Guess what?!"
Putting down his tea, he wrapped an arm around his sister as best he could. "Any reason why your cheek is sticky?" Kikue's dark little head pulled away, and he was able to turn away from the table so he could take her in, proud smile and…red smeared on both sides of her face in the shapes of long, triangular fang marks. "Kikue is gonna be an Inuzuka now!" She raised one fist in the air. Ever since coming across the clan, Kikue had become enamored with just about everything about them. Their customs, their ninken, their sense of community. More than anything, he suspected that was what she loved about them. Their own clan had never regarded her as anything more than a hindrance.
Yoku and Harihane trailed into the room behind her, the latter noticing Kikue's 'face paint' first. Stepping forward, she swiped a finger across their younger sister's cheek with a grunt. "Is this…berry juice?"
Yoku's new ninken partner, Asuga, yipped. Kikue giggled as the brown and cream puppy leapt at her, futilely trying to reach her face and lick away the sticky sweetness.
"It's all Kikue could find that was the right color." She explained, still fending off the playful pup.
Harihane grinned darkly. "Blood would've been the right color too,"
"Harihane," he warned, getting to his feet. Her grin dropped. "What are you girls planning?"
Yoku smiled bashfully, "Mother's gotten permission from the Hokage and as long as you're all supervised,"
"We can leave the compound." Harihane finished impatiently, arms crossed. "So I guess we're supposed to be grateful their leader is nice enough to let the prisoners stretch their legs."
"It's a start, isn't it?" Jun'ichi said, trying to be optimistic. Although he would never complain after the great amount of generosity Tsuba had shown them, even he could admit that staying within the walls of the Inuzuka compound day in and day out for the past week and a half was grating.
Even if it was as Harihane implied and they were just slackening the grip on their chains ever so slightly, testing them, Jun'ichi would take what he could get.
"Kikue, I think you should clean your face," Yoku prodded the younger girl's shoulder gently.
"Aw," His sister frowned a little, but didn't other anymore resistance as she darted out of the room. "Don't leave! Kikue will be right back!" she called.
Jun'ichi joined Yoku in a little laugh and Harihane's scowl slackened in spite of herself. "Where would you three like to go today?" Yoku asked politely. "I'm still getting acclimated to everything myself, I admit, but I believe we can trust my nose to guide us around." The girl's nose wiggled as if in agreement.
"I dunno," Harihane still had her arms crossed tight. "Does it really matter? You know the minute we set foot out there, it'll be a free for all. You're the clan that's decided to harbor three bloodthirsty freaks." She tried admirably to hide it behind a wall of condescension, but he didn't miss the hurt that seeped into her tone.
Despite what she may say, or how she may act, he could sense Harihane very much wanted to be a part of a functioning and welcoming community. But she'd convinced herself—perhaps rightfully so given the clan's reputation—that nowhere like that existed for them as long as Kaguya blood was in their veins.
Jun'ichi was tired. Tired of hiding behind his former indifference and tired of measuring every action and carefully considering what his father would expect. They'd gone this long and no one had come for them yet. Maybe it was alright to dare to hope they could truly have a life here in Konoha.
"Hari," he said gently, "The Inuzuka have been incredibly accommodating, don't you think?"
Blowing hair away from her nose, she glared up at him. "Yeah, why?"
Closing the small gap of space between them, he settled a hand on her head. "Don't you think maybe if we don't owe the village, we owe them? To try?"
Instead of swatting him away or shooting off some sharp-tongued remark, Harihane thought quietly, some of the tension easing from her face and her arms finally unfolding. Her dark eyes darted to Yoku, who stood waiting patiently with an encouraging smile in place.
He truly thought the Inuzuka heiress was a good influence on his sister. On both of them, but especially Harihane, who had never had a friend her age, or time for a real childhood at all.
Blushing, Harihane muttered something unintelligible, but it sounded close enough to agreement that he ruffled her hair. Dancing away before she had a chance to recover herself and smack him, he listened with a grin as Kikue's footsteps returned and then she was back in the room with a freshly scrubbed face.
"Kikue's ready," she said with a twirl. "Lead us to fun, Yoyo-chan's nose!"
That broke any lingering pressure in the room, and this time even Harihane joined in on the laughter as they followed a skipping Kikue down the hall.
Maybe he wasn't who he usually was at the moment, but Madara was starting to suspect it was his old self that wasn't mentally sound if he'd thought that this chaos was a good time. There were half-drunken sailors everywhere. According to their captain, a journey home was cause for celebration. With how whimsically he spoke about it, Madara had reason to suspect a sword through the gut would be reason enough to drink for these people.
He hadn't seen Izuna drinking, but the other three were indulging too, albeit much more carefully. Already, someone had almost gone overboard, too tipsy to keep his sea legs, and it was a mad dash to grab him up before the sea did.
Madara scowled, resting his elbows against the railing and inhaling the salt smell, ignoring the tickle of his hair spilling well past his shoulders in the wind. Dark waves beat against the side of the vessel, and he stared into their depths as if they could provide him all the answers he was missing, or at the very least calm his mind.
Glancing around uncertainly, he made sure everyone else was preoccupied. Satisfied to see they were singing, drinking or milling about, Madara pulled the cloth headband from his pocket. Grasping the ends between slightly trembling fingers, he held it up and sucked in a breath at the way the shiny metal caught the high noon sun. His thumb grazed over the symbol in the middle, a strange swirling pattern that ended in the point of a triangle. A stylized leaf…
"We're going to need to come up with a name for the village." The man's eyebrows lifted in thought as they stared out over the terrain together. His long, brown mane shifted gently in the breeze, and he carelessly brushed loose strands behind his ear. "Any thoughts?"
Madara's eyes trailed upward, watching as a leaf fluttered past his face and holding out his palm to catch it. "Hm," Raising it to his face, he stared at the lush foliage and the tops of the buildings he could see down below through the little hole in the leaf. The area they had chosen to construct was dense with forestation acting as a cozy natural barrier."How about…Konohagakure no Sato?"
Surprised, the other man turned, biting at his bottom lip to stifle a sudden bout of snickers. "Is that really your best idea? It's really not very imaginative." His broad shoulders bounced with the weight of his chuckling, and Madara felt a ball of irritation expand from his chest.
He scowled. "You call yourself the Hokage—how's that any different?" he snarled, tossing the leaf down with a glare. "I'd like to see you do better, bastard!"
"No," Hashirama stopped laughing as abruptly as he'd started. "Konohagakure it is." Some of the ire eased from Madara's eyes. "Though if anyone asks, you'll be taking credit for the name."
Jolting, Madara realized with surprise that was quickly followed by elation that it must have been one of his lost memories! 'Konoha.' He stared down at his hitai-ate with newfound pride. 'I named the village.' There were a great deal of specifics he couldn't recall, but he knew now this place they were all returning to, Konoha, was really his home. And the man…Hashirama…was his friend. Probably.
The name and face caused an odd mix of feelings to bubble up, so for all Madara knew it was much more complicated than a simple friendship. Somewhere in that confusing jumble of emotions he was sure he felt a spark of something like…rivalry. Rivalry over what, though?
The tap against his cheek was mildly distracting, and Madara brushed at it, hoping to shoo it away, only for the plush scrape of something soft tapping his face to persist. "What the hel—" His protest died in a yelp as he glared over his shoulder to find Izuna holding a fluffy black cat incredibly close to his face.
His headband slipped from his hands, and Madara almost lunged after it to make sure he caught it in time before it disappeared into the waves. Holding it close against his chest with a sigh of relief, he made a full turn to size up his brother.
Even without looking into a reflective surface, he knew the agitated expression on his face was a perfect contrast to Izuna's wide grin. "What was that for?" he demanded, slipping his headband back into his pocket as discreetly as possible.
"You know, I would've never been able to sneak up on you like that before." Izuna contemplated, tilting his head. "Maybe not all your shinobi skills are back…"
Madara scoffed, crossing his arms. "So that's it? That's all you wanted?"
"No," Izuna shook his head, ignoring the hostility. "I came to introduce you to my new friend actually." His brother gently hefted the cat he was holding higher into his arms, and Madara blinked down at it. The creature was soot black from head to toe, larger than the average feline, and had a sweep of fur covering one of its eyes that almost reminded him of…
"I don't like cats," he blurted, inching away. That being said, there were certainly enough of them on the ship. Cats of all sizes and colors ambled around like they owned everything they laid eyes on. A yellow one had tried climbing his hair when he sat down, and a red one had the nerve to jump right into his lap and proceed to cough out a slimy hairball…
Evidently they were the crew's answer to keep rodent infestations down. Joben had told them proudly about Kazu's idea of adopting a colony of cats to guard perishables.
Ignorant of his discomfort, Izuna followed him, holding the cat up until it was—glaring?—right into his face. "Of course you do. They're your favorite animal." Madara's eyes widened slightly at that revelation. That just…didn't seem right for some reason. A brief, fuzzy flash of a white and silver cat with mismatched eyes baring its teeth at him crossed his mind. Yet Izuna knew him very well, and if he said that Madara was a fan of cats then maybe it deserved some consideration. Funnily enough, he could have sworn he'd prefer the cold dignity of raptors.
"Alright," he huffed, reaching a hand forward and patting at the cat's fluffy head. "What's its name?"
Izuna's eyes brightened again, an innocent smile finding a home on his lips. "Madara."
Madara felt his brows shoot down. "I know what my name is. But what's the cat called?"
Izuna's bangs shifted across his forehead as he tilted his head back and laughed. The cat in his arms was still…watching him like it wanted him dead, unnervingly. "You're his namesake." He said when he'd calmed down. "You apparently made such a lasting impression on the crew, they decided to name him after you."
Mouth falling open, he couldn't help but stare hard at the feline who looked more and more like his animal doppelganger every second. "You must be joking." he said flatly. "There's no resemblance at all."
Izuna peered down at Cat Madara and Cat Madara peered up at him. His brother shrugged. "I disagree. They've also got a very pretty mi-ke named Sakura, if it makes you feel better." He didn't know what a mi-ke was, but he knew it did not make him feel better.
Suddenly feeling slighted for a reason he couldn't explain, Madara leaned down into the imposter's face, just out of reach of its claws should it decide to take a swipe. "I was here first." He told it. "And I'll be here last." Cat Madara hissed, accepting the challenge.
Knowing he wouldn't be able to go back to staring out over the water as long as that…name thief was around, Madara turned his back on Izuna and marched off, intent on finding the quarters he would be living in.
The musk of a well-aged book was among her favorite scents in the world, but Yoku appreciated the crisp, clear smell of fall sunshine almost as much. In the short time since her clan had settled in the village, she had the opportunity to explore, quickly growing use to the cadence of her new life and hospitality everyone seemed to emit. Konoha was nicer than anything she could have imagined, with its blend of peoples and its abundance of space and especially its proximity to the forests that called to her.
Occasionally, people clearly familiar with the Inuzuka clan through way of rumors would take note of her cheek markings and shy away. But her mother had done an excellent job of explaining to her since she was old enough to understand that their heritage was nothing to be ashamed of.
They had a connection to the earth and their ninken that was to be envied, in touch with their roots on a primal level outsiders couldn't dream of. Looking down with a smile, she saw Asuga happily keeping pace with her, curly tail bouncing over her back and cream paws hardly touching the ground before she picked them back up again in graceful strides.
They hadn't even been together for two weeks, but her pup was diligent and loyal, and Yoku didn't question why they had been paired together for even a second. The minute the squirming brown and cream bundle had been placed in her arms, the bond was there, strong and instant.
Secretly, she had been a bit nervous, knowing that when Miku's litter of five was weaned, it would be time for she and some of the other children of age to get their very own ninken. It was the most sacred rite of passage for an Inuzuka, but it was a delicate one that couldn't be forced. Canine and human had to have spirits that completed each other. There was no other way.
Up until then, Yoku had missed out on getting her ninken many times, none of the puppies from past litters destined to be her partners. She could admit she'd become self-conscious that she, heiress to her clan, didn't have a partner when children six years her junior did. So when it was time for the pups to meet the Inuzuka they would spend their lives with, Yoku— the oldest child there—waited anxiously at the back of the room, more than willing to be last, to work up the courage to see if it would finally be the year. When only two pups were left, she inched forward, biting and releasing her cheek as her mother knelt in front of her with sympathetic eyes…and offered her Asuga with a proud smile. That moment had been the happiest in her life to date.
Now, with Asuga at her side and her new friends, Yoku almost felt spoiled. Kikue was walking at her left side, though the younger girl stopped frequently to gasp in awe over something new she'd laid eyes on. Jun'ichi and Harihane were barely a half-step behind them, both of them more discreet about the keen interest they had in the village's many sights.
Because it had so much to see, Yoku had led them down the main street of the market district. The Kaguya siblings all appeared to be enjoying themselves, Kikue pausing yet again to peek into a tall clay jar on display under the red tarp of a pottery master. It was set in a row of six other jars, clearly the masterpiece of them all with the most attention to detail, painted gray and blue in a pattern of rolling lines that have the illusion of being endless.
Yoku noticed with some amusement it was big enough for Kikue's head to fit in it easily. "Ooh!" her excited voice echoed from the depths of the jar, and Harihane stomped over to jerk her away before the owner saw her playing around.
"Do you have the money to pay for that?" She asked, shaking her sister by the shoulders.
Kikue's head bounced back and forth on her shoulders, the bone securing her bun miraculously in place. "Nah-ooo-ooo-ooo,"
Harihane turned her loose and cuffed her across the back of the head. "Then don't touch it."
Yoku shared a closed-eye grin with Asuga, now more than use to seeing the sisters bantering. At a glance, Harihane came across very…harsh. Everything about her was sharp. Her tongue, her Shikotsumyaku and her glare. But the benefits of having a nose as keen as an Inuzuka was a great help in seeing past all of that. People who lied or had bad intentions had a thick, burning odor around them that was hard to ignore. Even in the midst of her most volatile fits, Harihane never did, and Yoku trusted her instincts.
"We still have a lot to see before lunch time," Jun'ichi reminded, ever the calm older brother. Yoku was even starting to see him as something of an older brother to her as well, although she was a little shy about telling him. What if that made him uncomfortable?
The sisters glanced around, Kikue clapping her hands with a nod while Harihane shrugged. "Yosh!"
"Fine."
"Let's go that way." They said in unison.
She watched as they pointed in opposite directions, Kikue indicating she wanted to explore the area where merchants sold handmade clothes while Harihane had more of an interest in seeing artisan crafts. Spinning around to face one another, the sisters blinked.
"I'm older. We're going my way, and that's that." Harihane announced, taking a menacing step forward with her signature scowl in place.
"Kikue wants to look for soft new clothes in brighter colors!" she balled her small hands into fists, bottom lip trembling pitifully.
Since coming into the care of the Inuzuka, the siblings had been living in hand-me-downs and Yoku had never stopped to consider maybe the outfits weren't to their tastes. None of them had ever complained before. Her heart twisted in guilt, wondering why she hadn't been thoughtful enough to ask.
"I have news for you," Harihane knocked a fist against her little sister's skull. "You're supposed to be a ninja. We don't wear bright colors!"
"Kikue's not a real ninja anyway!" she argued just as fiercely. The proclamation was followed by a stretch of awkwardness.
Recovering first, Jun'ichi cleared his throat. "You both clearly have your own ideas about what to look at, so let's split up. I'll take Kikue with me," he wrapped a guiding arm around her small shoulders, "And maybe if you ask nicely, Harihane, Yoku won't mind going with you."
Yoku was nodding even before he finished. Of course she wouldn't mind spending more time with Harihane. They were the same age, and even though she had no idea about how the Kaguya girl viewed it, in the weeks since they'd met, Yoku had come to see the siblings as her friends. "I don't mind," She turned to Harihane, who was surprisingly quiet. "What about you?"
"Is that even a good idea?" she asked, ignoring the question. "We're supposed to be supervised. You two can't just go off by yourselves."
"That's true…" Jun'ichi tossed hair out of his eyes. "But I think it should be alright as long as we're well within the same area as Yoku."
"Fine. Whatever. And even if you do get caught, I'm the one sticking close to our supervision here," Harihane nodded triumphantly, much more amenable to the idea suddenly.
"That's…one way to put it," Yoku couldn't believe she was 'supervising' when Jun'ichi was much older and probably more responsible, too. But she wasn't complaining. Far from it.
She could tell her friends had been getting restless shut up in the compound. And she felt guilty each time she was able to roam free while they sat inside, confined to the limitations of Inuzuka grounds. If she could be the one responsible for walking around while they got out and stretched their legs, she was thrilled to do it. Asuga snuffled, wagging her curled tail, sensing her partner's emotions.
Kikue was already bouncing away with her brother hot on her heels, so Yoku turned patiently to the only remaining Kaguya. "So what do you like about artisan crafts?" She took the lead, knowing her way around the market much better and figuring Harihane would appreciate them taking a shortcut.
The grumpy girl followed without question as they cut through a small opening between two stands and around a woman talking up beaded necklaces to several enthralled older women.
"I like the way it's made," Harihane finally said, still oddly meek sounding. "Hands can…do a lot of things. It's nice that some of those things don't involve inflicting pain, I guess. They can make things people consider beautiful."
Knowing how hard that must have been for her to get out all in one go, Yoku didn't want to make a big deal out of how off guard the comment caught her. "I know just what you mean," she said instead. "I really think quilling is pretty, personally."
Harihane's eyes swept up and down every artisan station, muted awe on her face. "What's that?" she asked, pointing with an uncharacteristic excitement. She was walking away before Yoku had the chance to respond.
"Ruff!" Asuga bounded around her feet, pushing at her calves.
"I know, girl," Yoku giggled. "I've never seen her like this either."
Harihane finally came to a stop in front of a young couple with beautiful filigree pieces, every type of design from flowers in pots to castles and even adornments like earrings in brooches, all of them glinting shiny and silver. "Pretty, hm?" the young woman beamed, rocking back on her heels. "We just love when people take an interest so young."
Harihane leaned over, reaching out as if she wanted to touch something but pulling her hand away last minutely. "It's really good soldering. Only a steady hand could connect the metal so well," she nodded in respect at the wide, round earrings. "And look at the way the silver's been subdivided by the metal." She turned to Yoku expectantly, so the Inuzuka felt the need to nod along, even if it was all starting to go over her head.
"You certainly know your stuff, little lady," The man said, folding his hands behind his back. "Are your parents artisans as well?"
Harihane coughed loudly, but with her acute sense of hearing, Yoku recognized it for the disguised laugh that it was. "No," she smiled thinly, managing to sound composed. "My father did take me to a village with a really talented man who did quilling, though. So I watched, and for a while my father paid him for trinkets my mother would like. Until he kil—" The couple stared in confusion, and the Kaguya cleared her throat. "Couldn't afford to pay him, and we moved on to another village,"
Luckily, though baffled, they didn't seem to catch on, and soon Harihane was towing Yoku away by the hand. "What's next?" she grumbled, some of her old attitude back in her voice.
"This is really more of your trip than mine," Yoku said pleasantly. "Anywhere you'd like is—"
"Yoku-chan, dear," Asuga's ears perked, even the folded one coming to stand erect, and Yoku felt her own wiggle at the frequency of the shout. She dug her heels into the ground, gently pulling her wrist from Harihane.
Satoko-san, a woman she'd become acquainted with on her previous trips to market, waved in greeting from across the street. Her hair was mostly tucked under a scarf to keep it from her face, and her simple yukata looked warm and padded against the chill weather.
Not thinking anything of saying hello, Yoku navigated her way through the crowd with Asuga almost outpacing her and Harihane following hesitantly from a distance.
"Hello, Satoko-san." She admired the delicate lacework the housewife had clutched in her hands. "That's a very pretty pattern."
"Oh," she glanced down at the open-holed cloth. "Oh isn't it? My husband's just received his mission pay and I couldn't resist treating myself. What with taking care of two sick children, it's nice to have these pleasures to reward myself sometimes."
"That's entirely understandable," Yoku agreed, running a hand through her short-cropped hair with a nod. She figured that's what the woman was fishing for anyway, someone to agree with her. Satoko-san was helpful, if not somewhat pushy.
She had been nice upon their initial meeting, willing to tell Yoku where everything was when she was out running errands and still learning the lay of the village. Since then they'd run into each other twice more, and although at times she was long-winded and a little intrusive, Yoku felt it was only polite to stop and spare her some time. "By the way, how's your mother doing? Is she adjusting to village life alright?"
Happy to speak about her mother's well-being, Yoku grinned, "Yes, she's really—"
"Has she tried those oils I've recommended? You know one good massage with those can rub the stress right out of you."
Yoku cocked her head, not wanting to have to explain yet again that perfumes and oils and any other scent blocker would only interfere with their strong sense of smell, something vital for an Inuzuka. Most scented things other people thought nothing of putting on their skin severely agitated them. She knew her mother would never go for it. "Actually, she—"
"I figured she would need it, what with all the rumors I've been hearing," Satoko-san leaned in with a conspiratorial frown. "The Hokage's forced your family to house those awful Kaguya prisoners, hasn't he? Honestly, I'm not sure what he'd be thinking, even allowing them here." She gave a dramatic shiver.
Yoku opened her mouth to protest, positive Satoko-san was just ill-informed. Some people thought the Inuzuka were savage, too. That they took parts in all forms of debauchery, simply because they saw the world a little differently. And although her clan were blunt people, sometimes rough around the edges, they were no more uncivilized than the next clan who had lived off the land for generations.
"Satoko-san, you've heard wrong," she said quietly. "The Kaguya don't mean anyone any harm, and we're more than glad to allow them a place to—"
Satoko-san stuffed her purchase into the basket hanging from her forearm and then clutched her arms, eyes still wide and tinged with paranoia. The smell of it wafting from her was starting to make Yoku's nose itch. Asuga whined restlessly near her feet.
"You be careful. Why, neighboring village next to the one I grew up in was razed to the ground by them. They killed the men and kidnapped the women and who knows what became of those poor children. They joined the feast, I suspect." The woman shook her head, clicking her tongue in shame. "I've gotten use to ninja over the years. I married one, after all," she kept rambling. "And now that I've heard they'll be making an academy open to even civilian-born children to attend, I know my little ones will want to be a part of it. But how can I send them off to a place where their peers might be…"
"Yoku, are you ready to go?" Despite all her heightened senses, Yoku jumped, completely unaware Harihane had been standing silently at her back, listening to every word.
In spite of not having once agreed with Satoko-san, Yoku's cheeks burned red hot with shame. "H-Hariha—"
"Oh," Satoko moved forward, eyeing Harihane with curiosity. "Is this a friend of yours, Yoku-chan? I haven't seen you around before," She was all smiles now, addressing Harihane with genuine warmth. "And you are?"
A bone-deep shiver of dread went up Yoku's spine, and she was sure every last hair on her body stood on end as Harihane also stepped forward with a saccharine smile and ice chips for eyes. "Harihane Kaguya," And she curtsied prettily just for show. "From the monster clan." She finished flatly, the white of her Shikotsumyaku idly beginning to pop out of her wrists. "It's nice to eat you."
Satoko-san gasped, her face growing as white as a fish's underbelly, hand flying over her mouth in horror.
"Slip of the tongue," Harihane giggled. "I meant it's nice to meet you, of course."
Satoko-san swallowed several times around the visible lump in her throat, her head bobbing frantically. "Of…Of…Of course," Offering a shaky smile, her eyes darted everywhere but them, searching out the quickest possible exit. "You know, I should be getting off now. Dinner won't start itself. Yoku-chan," she met eyes with the Inuzuka heiress, but only briefly. "You take care." She didn't even try to hide her wariness of Harihane as she briskly took off, disappearing into a throng of passersby leaving the marketing district.
Yoku rounded on Harihane immediately to see her wearing a wide, chilling smile. "Nice place. Nice people." She laughed, and it made Yoku's gut twist. Then she spun on her heel, and Yoku almost tackled her from behind.
"You mind?" she spat, all of the vinegar that had melted away over the course of the last few weeks back in full force. Asuga growled softly, her teeth holding tightly to the bottom of Harihane's yukata and her paws flexing to get a solid stance. Yoku appreciated how well her partner anticipated her moves.
"Are you asking if I mind you leaving the market? Because of course I don't. We can collect Kikue and Jun'ichi and go back to the compound right now. But if you're asking if I mind you breaking your promise to your brother and giving up because of one ignorant gossip, then yes! I do!"
Harihane wasn't even really exerting all her strength, but Yoku was having to use at least half of hers just to keep her feet planted. The same age, and yet the lives they'd lived, Harihane's harsh training regimen, made the differences all too clear.
"I don't think I ever promised anybody anything!" And Harihane jerked her arm away with a snarl, whirling on her with a look like a wounded animal, pain dilating her eyes. Instinct made Yoku back away slowly, and she motioned for Asuga to do the same. The little pup let go reluctantly. "I said I would try." She shook an angry finger. "And I did. But if you think she's the only one who feels that way— and will always feel that way—then you're a bone-headed mutt."
Yoku recoiled. She would admit it hurt, stinging more coming from Harihane's tongue than it would have coming from the lips of a stranger. She knew she was far from stupid. But this was what wounded animals did; they lashed out, blinded by pain and just hoping they could sink their fangs into a vulnerable area. And Harihane, well, she was the best of the best, because she had immediately gone for the throat.
"Insult me all you like," Yoku hoped her voice didn't waver too badly as she squared her shoulders. "I'd rather be a mutt than a coward any day."
Harihane bristled, really looking ready to pounce. Yoku half-wondered if they'd end up ripping at each other with teeth and nails right in the middle of the market. Her mother might actually consider nailing both their hides to the wall. "What?" the Kaguya bared her teeth—too blunt to be proper fangs but still an impressive imitation. "What did you say?"
Yoku's heart thundered. She never considered herself confrontational. Pursuits of knowledge were preferable to pursuits of battle any day. "You may not have the same kind of hearing I do, but I don't think I need to repeat myself." She challenged boldly. Clasping her hands together, squeezing so tightly she felt her nails biting at her skin, she pressed on. "You…I really admired you all this time. What you told me that day, about how you should say exactly what you mean, made me think about the kind of kunoichi I want to grow up to be. And even when you take hits, you get back up on your own two feet, no matter who tells you to stay down in the dirt,"
Her eyes were shining wetly, and Harihane's were a perfect mirror, much to her surprise. "Who cares if…if Satoko-san or some other stranger or even the entire village doesn't want you here? I do. Kaa-san does." She bit her lip, suddenly feeling shy even after coming so far. "The Harihane I know isn't a coward who tucks her tail in and hides. She would..." Yoku sucked in a deep breath, closing her eyes tightly. "She would shake this whole village to the core until they see how wrong they are!"
Tears slipped past her closed lids, but when she cracked one eye open she saw Harihane was stock still, liquid flowing steadily down her own cheeks. Feeling it was safer to approach, Yoku inched closer, relieved her friend wasn't trying to move away.
When she was in arm's length, she didn't hesitate to reach out and snag her in a painful embrace. Harihane shook in her arms, but she didn't fight it, didn't try to get away. Yoku could feel wet plops hitting her shoulder and smell the saline, but it was alright. Slow, unsure arms came up and weakly returned the embrace, Yoku laughing in her head. "I really," Harihane croaked, voice muffled. "Hate crybabies like you."
They stood like that in the middle of the market, two girls crying and embracing and sometimes even laughing, finally pulling apart with reddened eyes. "Let's um," Yoku rubbed a hand under her nose. "Find the others and go home."
Harihane rolled her eyes, lightly punching her shoulder. "Yeah, but we're splashing water on our faces first. Junji sees we've been crying he's gonna try that nurturing big brother crap and I can't handle two mush-fests in one day."
For big, tipsy brutes the pounding of their feet across the deck as they danced in drunken revelry was almost rhythmic. Izuna watched men and women stomp around in circles, clapping their hands to the sound of the captain's singing and then swinging each other in wild arcs at every chorus. They were a flurry of bodies moving as if mesmerized by the atmosphere, dancing without a care in the world under the open cerulean sky.
The man in the crow's nest had even pulled out a fiddle, and its light notes carried clearly across the ship—miraculously still being steered by a woman with short-cropped blond hair who looked less drunk than any of the others. Junko, if he remembered her name correctly. That was a relief that someone knew what they were doing.
He looked down into the mug of…suspicious alcohol that had been shoved into his hands, taking a curious sniff. Everyone else seemed to have enjoyed it earlier, and even Sakura had a tumbler of it at one point, so there was probably no harm in a little. Slowly bringing it to his lips, he closed his eyes and took a deep sip, waiting for the flavor to settle on his tongue as the warmth of it surged into his gut. Whatever the concoction was it certainly disappoint, the crisp aftertaste of apples making the drink oddly refreshing. Izuna swallowed more, then wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve and smiling at the several cats that had come to sniff at him.
One of the bolder felines leapt up onto the wide crate he was using as a seat and pawed at his leg. Izuna stroked its back, admiring the black ticking over the smooth cinnamon coat. Purring in appreciation, the cat climbed into his lap, its eyes squinted closed in contentment. He sat there and scratched under its chin for a minute, a sudden wave of understanding and appreciation hitting him hard.
Living on the big ship, in the moment, and answering to no one but themselves…that's the freedom that the Harbinger's crew enjoyed, and Izuna had a sneaking feeling it'd probably enticed Sakura at some point too, which was why she appeared so relaxed.
"I can't get over how good you are with them." He lifted his head, liking how just thinking her name was enough to draw her to him. Sakura sat down beside him, her eyes mellow as she watched the dancing, petting the fluffy white cat with one eye that had stopped trying to get Izuna's attention and rushed to her instead.
"Cats aren't that hard to get along with," he told her. The white cat was so happy to have Sakura's attention it almost shook with the tremors of the purrs coming from its chest. "I think they're more misunderstood than anything." A small kitten that had clumsily wandered into her lap and then up onto her shoulder batted at the ribbon she was using to secure her hair, and Sakura giggled, tugging it out.
Izuna tried not to be too obvious about staring, memorizing the side view of her face in profile. Her green eyes shone as she smiled down at the kitten, one hand going up to absentmindedly brush away some stubborn hair that hung around her lightly flushed cheeks. It looked even longer than it had when she left Konoha.
As she dangled the ribbon around for the playful kitten, he watched, eventually being jolted back to reality by the spotted brown cat nipping at his hand, not pleased that he'd stopped petting. "Maybe you're right," she mused. "Growing up I never really thought that much about liking dogs or cats more…I mean my parents wouldn't let me have a pet anyway, and then being a shinobi it sort of became impractical. But Usamaro's not standoffish at all. He's smart and loyal, and I really feel like we've bonded. Being around so many cats really makes me miss him."
He couldn't help but mentally congratulate himself on making the right call, turning the former stray over to her care. Izuna's attention went back to the persistent cat trying to catch the white strip of cloth. Sakura was apparently too slow with tugging the ribbon away, and the kitten was able to jump up and secure it with a victorious meow.
They watched it fall flat on its face in her lap as it landed from the jump, popping up unharmed and trying to stumble away with the long length of ribbon, tripping over its own feet. They shared a snicker, a comfortable silence settling over them afterwards. Izuna wouldn't have minded staying that way for the rest of the day, just sitting with Sakura, surrounded by cats with the sea breeze in their hair.
But they were shinobi. Life wasn't supposed to be that simple for them, and soon talk restarted, shifting to the inevitable. "We're going to have a lot to explain to Hashirama…" he sighed. "That brief update I sent didn't even scratch the surface."
Sakura's shoulders slumped, her elbows resting on her knees as she looked wistfully out at the crew of the Harbinger enjoying themselves. "I…I'm really nervous." She confessed. "That mission was…well, it was nothing short of a disaster." Before he could break in with some comforting words, she held a hand up. "You don't have to bother trying to spare my feelings. It's a little too late for that, anyway."
"You're right," he admitted, pulling his ponytail away from the spotted cat, who had started to chew on the end of his hair in retaliation. "Even if we presented a united front and gave uniform accounts of the mission, there's still a lot that sounds impossible to believe without seeing for yourself. I'm not looking forward to having to repeat any of it to the Hokage with a straight face."
Sakura nodded, chewing on her lip. "He's a fair man, though. Maybe he'll give us a chance…I think an even bigger problem might be his brother." She glared at nothing, no doubt imagining Tobirama's blunt rejection of their explanation. It'd crossed Izuna's mind too. Tobirama Senju was very devout to his belief in logic. A pragmatist in his thinking as deeply as anyone could hope to be.
If Hashirama believed them, Tobirama definitely wouldn't. Izuna could see the white-haired Senju trying to make a case to keep them both locked in the village under heavy monitoring, indefinitely.
Shaking his head, Izuna looked her in the eye with as much determination as he could muster. "Some things are stranger than fiction, too strange to be made up. What we both experienced definitely counted…I saw the dead rise. And a god that was able to redirect my Amaterasu like it was nothing," His fist clenched hard on top of his thigh. He was still troubled over that. Amaterasu was a technique that had taken him a long time to master and control. He rarely had to use it, but when he did, no one had ever, ever stood a chance.
Izuna had no problem admitting that the god, Yama, wounded more than a little of his pride as an Uchiha. And Erika—his face contorted into a scowl. She'd just been toying with him. No matter what he threw at her, how many fatal blows he landed, she got back up, eventually wearing him down and then beating him black and blue.
"What about me?" she asked quietly, staring down at her hands. "You saw…me. You know about Mizuchi now. You must have a lot of questions," When she hesitantly met his eyes, her face was so pinched with pain, her bright irises had shifted to an entirely darker shade.
That was decidedly one part of the mission he would have rather imagined he dreamed up. He could even handle Madara's amnesia, as shocking as that still was to wrap his head around. Seeing Sakura partially transform into a…a dragon that was perfectly capable of maiming him had sent his heart straight to the soles of his feet. Izuna was fully prepared for the fact that he might not have been able to get through to her, and then she would have either killed him, or he would have had to kill her.
Choosing his next words carefully, he swallowed back all the hesitation in his throat. "You're right. I saw you. Just like I see you now." And it was true, because scales or skin, claws or fingers, green eyes or green-gold, it was all Sakura on the inside. And the fact that she had stopped, that she hadn't gone through with ripping his throat out, convinced him of that.
Her eyes narrowed and then opened wide. "Izuna, now you're really just taking this whole humoring me thing too far. Mizuchi is a deity. And I'm bound to her whether I like it or not." Now he followed her eyes and could tell her focus was on the sea, and the way the sun made it glitter. Sakura looked put out enough to dive in head first and let herself sink to the bottom. "Strange things are probably going to keep happening to me, and in case you haven't noticed, you too."
"Strange things have been happening for months," he grunted. "Before we even met, I was supposed to die," If Madara's recounting of how close he'd been to death's door wasn't enough, a spiteful shinigami determined to reclaim his soul was convincing in a way that was hard to ignore. "And now I find out I'm only alive because your…deity…saved my life for a reason I don't think has anything to do with the kindness in her celestial heart."
Sakura shuffled anxiously. Even the cats had gotten bored with them and fallen asleep or moved on. "That's classic Mizuchi. She always has a plan, but you never know what your role in it is until she wants you to." Sakura sighed. "I was oblivious to all this, until she turned up one day and declared I was going to help her. I've been getting pulled in whatever direction she wants me to go in ever since." Rubbing her palms over her lap, she stubbornly avoided his eyes. "I figured may it wasn't such a good idea to tell anyone, though. I mean all of it sounds crazy, right?"
Izuna had no qualms believing Sakura was an innocent in it all, as much as any of them. Battling gods with someone tended to establish a deep well of trust. But aside from that, his encounters with the deities had underscored what highly capricious beings they were. Pulling mortals into their orbit and using them thoughtlessly was exactly what he'd come to expect from them.
While he could do without any more colossal mishaps or the encounters of the otherworldly kind, he felt the need to reiterate again to Sakura that he didn't hold her responsible. "Then you're just as caught up in this as the rest of us are," he said slowly. "Which means we need to come up with a convincing way to relay the events of the mission. Together."
Some of the irritation tightening the corners of her eyes melted away. "T-Thank you…and I'm sorry."
"I haven't done much for you to thank…" He swiped a hand across his face tiredly. "Thank you on my behalf, and Madara's too."
The name brought a frown to her face again, and Izuna cursed himself. But when he studied her closely, there was a shadow of guilt falling across her countenance, not bitterness. "I meant what I said before…Memories do come back under the right circumstances,"
She was still trying to reassure him… Still thinking of his feelings about Madara more than her own. "I believe you," he sighed, rolling his shoulders to alleviate some of the stiffness. "In the meantime, I may follow your example and be proactive in jogging his memories."
"My example," Sakura repeated cautiously. "Uh," she blushed, rubbing her shoulder. "You're not talking about when I told him he liked to sail, are you?"
Izuna laughed a little. "That's exactly what I'm talking about."
"You're not…upset? That I lied? I'm a medic…so I should be taking this more seriously."
"If I was upset with you over that, I'd have to be even more upset with myself for convincing him he likes cats." Sakura gaped at him. "Well," he considered Madara's hesitant expression. "Half-convinced. It might take a few more attempts before he truly believes that."
"…" Sakura took a minute, eyes flickering around. Leaning forward, she whispered, "Harmless things, right? We only tell him completely harmless little lies?"
"Harmless," He echoed, placing a hand over his heart.
Once she had confirmation, the dark cloud that had been hanging over her instantly lifted. "What else do you think we can get him to believe?"
Madara couldn't say he was happy or comfortable down in the cabin he was apparently going to be sharing for the duration of the trip. It was…small. The floorboards creaked. There was precisely one cot. And he'd had to chase out five cats that were trying to use the room for a nesting area before he could even decide if could stand it.
Maybe, if he'd had the room to himself, it would have been tolerable (and that was a big maybe). But they were running short on cabin space, as it was told to him by a drunken green-haired woman named Ai. So he would be sharing with four other people, or else some of them would have to squeeze in with the ship's crew and it most definitely wouldn't be him.
Sitting by his lonesome, he listened grumpily to the pounding of feet and the loud drunken revelry happening up on deck, and he felt the sea tossing the ship this way and that, and Madara put serious consideration into his chances if he were to strip down to only his essentials and swim for shore. The door creaked on its hinges and swung open, and he sat up, expecting to find the persistent felines he'd chased away were back for another round.
It was the pink-haired medic, and when she saw him, she leered at him, moving to unpack her things and set out her bedroll.
"Are you really sleeping now?" he scoffed. "The sun hasn't even gone down."
"How would you even know that?" she challenged. "You've been down here for hours." She roughly tossed the bedroll down and stepped back from it with a huff. "I'm just setting out my things for tonight, in case I'm too tired to do it later," she mumbled, not meeting his eyes but instead glaring at the floor. "It doesn't exactly hurt to be prepared." Dropping to her knees, she began smoothing out her sleeping mat.
Madara could have sworn he heard he say, "I can't believe I'm in this situation…again." Huh. Had they slept in the same room before? They'd only had the one room back in the inn, so they must have.
Nevertheless, her apparent need to control every minute factor of their circumstances was laughable. "Preparedness even to the smallest measure?" Why was that even so important? It was just a bedroll. "That sounds like something someone without actual survival skills would use to compensate."
Sakura stopped smoothing her hands across the bedroll, head whipping up as her green eyes widened. "You…" she shook her head. "You said that to me before…when this mission started."
Madara brought one leg up on the cot and curled an arm around it casually. "Did I? Maybe some things really are coming back to me faster than expected."
Sakura grunted, sitting back on her heels, placing her own hands on top of her thighs. "Or maybe," she grumbled. "You're an asshole to your core."
He blinked, amused, and she flinched, evidently having let the barb slip out. "Why does it have to be on me? My memory loss is your fault, so maybe this is too. Maybe you're just a prude." He suggested helpfully, watching her whole face crinkle with the effort it took for her not to lash out.
Something about this felt right. The banter, the emotions she couldn't quite keep out of her clear green eyes. Madara realized belatedly he was having fun. By himself no doubt, but what did he care?
"I think we're just incompatible," she said, breathing deeply through her nose. Ah, she'd chosen to go with the diplomatic answer. Because that definitely wasn't the one that nearly came out of her mouth at first. "In every way possible."
Madara wasn't going to let it deter him. Since leaving the island, it felt like he was being left out of the loop, and he wasn't sure he liked it. He didn't have actual memories of any past battles, just the muscle memory of his years of training. That didn't stop him from concluding that whatever the hell had happened in that flower field was far from the normal scale of a battle, even for seasoned shinobi. "Regardless of us being incompatible, your deity saw fit to partially restore my memories." he reminded her.
One minute, he had been staring off into the dark, trying to figure out if a shinigami had really attacked him, or if he'd had bad shrimp. The next, a beautiful woman with strange eyes and a mischievous twist to her red lips was in the room, grabbing him by the back of the head.
He could feel her sift around inside his mind, tossing things around even more than they already were. Whatever she had found made her satisfied, and suddenly it was like a lock falling away, revealing what turned out to be very extensive battle knowledge.
It was the first time Madara felt like maybe he really had been a shinobi. He didn't get much time to think about why she'd done it, or how, because she was slipping out of the room then, and somehow there was a location in his head, and he knew just how to get there.
She groaned and it snapped him back to the here and now. Sakura made a face as if not wanting to be reminded. "Ah yes, return of the warrior."
"Tell me more about that," He sat straight, giving her his full attention. "Do you grow a tail too?" The dragon woman, Mizuchi, had warped before his eyes into a sixty foot creature with a long, muscle-packed body that sprung straight from some work of fiction.
Sakura worked her jaw around, trying to decide how to respond; he could see it in her eyes.
"Just spit it out," he sighed impatiently.
"If you're asking what my exact relationship is to Mizuchi then—"
The door burst open again, and they both jumped. The blonde ninja, Kureno, came marching into the room with the captain's son on his shoulders. They paused in the threshold, reading the tension rife in the air.
"Uh…" Kureno laughed nervously. "We can…we can come back."
"No we can't!" Kazu pouted, one arm gripped around his head for balance. "It's almost dinner. Junko's gonna want us all on deck or nobody'll get to eat nothin'."
Kureno gently lett the boy down. "She runs a pretty tight ship, huh?"
Kazu nodded emphatically. "Ai tol' me she's got everybody by the bal—"
"Hey," Sakura stood abruptly, "I'll be there in just a minute." She dusted her hands pointlessly, maybe out of nerves. "Where's Yurine?"
"In the galley," Kureno shrugged. Turning to Kazu, he asked, "That's what it's called, right? A galley?"
"Ay!" He fist pumped. "You're gonna be talkin' like one o' us 'fore you know it!" he said, clearly imitating Joben.
Kureno shook his head with a grin. "Anyway, she's in there. I don't know who told her learning to peel potatoes better would help her find her one true love, but I'm pretty sure she thinks those things are related."
"Oh! You can pull a man's heart out through his stomach!" Kazu declared.
"The way to a man's heart is through his stomach," Sakura corrected.
"No, that's not right." Kazu said, his freckles bunching up in consternation when he frowned. "Ai definitely told me it the other way,"
Madara believed it. None of them seemed fit to be raising children or imparting any wisdom.
Standing himself, he glanced between all three of them, his eyes finally settling on the stubborn kunoichi, who he was beginning to suspect really didn't like him. "We'll finish this talk sooner than later, Haruno."
From his peripheral vision, he saw her tense, and he could only begin to imagine why.
They are finally headed back home, but there's a lot to unpack between now and them actually arriving. Anyway...
Lots of animals make appearances in this chapter, so let's talk about some of them. Shinta's coloring is based heavily off a bataleur eagle for reference, which is not native to Asia, but since Naruto is just pseudo-Japan, I'm kind of going with the fact that Shinta is actually a rare species that doesn't exist in real life, and happens to share the coloring of a real species. MadaMew has appeared to give human Madara a complex. That's gotta be rough, I say, as if I'm not the cause. XD A "mi-ke" (triple-haired) cat is one that people in the West would call calico. A white cat with calico markings. Japanese Bobtails, Usamaro's breed, can have the coloring, and it's a very popular and beloved one with JBT enthusiasts. Ironically, the sailors now have a "Sakura" who is also a JBT, named after our favorite pink-haired heroine.
I think the Inuzuka and the way they are connected to their ninken is fascinating and an underexplored element of world-building (one of many) in the Konoha clans. I'd like to believe that with how deeply each clan member bonds with their dog or dogs, it's a little more complicated than just sticking a child and puppy together. After all, the Inuzuka can understand the speech of their dogs. Their clan jutsu almost all involves working together with their dogs on a deep, spiritual level I don't think would be possible if any person could be matched with any dog. The whole concept of what they are is "man's best friend" but taken to the next level.
I will be making a big move between January and February, and as anyone who's ever moved knows, it's a long, exhausting process. But this is something I've been waiting on and wanting for a long, long time. I may not have much time to update between that and starting a big new job that just happen to coincide. So I will have to wait to get all set up and then see where I am. That's why I changed my mind about doing another update this month. I've never had much of a clear update schedule as anyone who follows my stories knows, but I'd already updated both ASiT and ARfF this month so I thought that was it for me and I could kick back into the new year.
Then I sort of decided to take pity on readers and leave them a parting gift as we close out 2018. I am trying to make an update of Wabi-Sabi the last of the year. Thanks for another year of support, dear readers. It's been a hectic one, but I truly have kept going through all the crazy times because of the encouraging comments. Hope to see everyone for the continuation of the story into the New Year. Happy holidays, if you celebrate any of them, and until next time.
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