On the second day of Sute's week of leave, Harusame visited her house and went straight to her bookshelf.
"Have you read this book?" he asked, pulling a random novel off the shelf. Sute blinked in mild surprise and squinted at the cover, recognizing it to be a mystery novel.
"Yeah, but it's been years," she confirmed with a shrug. "I got it back during my first leave in the war."
"Do you remember the culprit?"
"Not off the top of my head? If I read it and saw the name, I would."
Rather than respond, Harusame merely smirked and gestured for her to follow him.
Sute had only been to her teacher's house a few times over the years, and as far as housing in Kiri went it was pretty unremarkable. A bit smaller than the Ringo household since he didn't belong to a clan, with enough space for all the basic rooms and amenities and a guest room... Of course, as one of Kiri's few fuinjutsu experts, he also converted two different rooms into workshops. This time he took her to the one in the basement, which he used for private and more dangerous projects.
She paused as they descended the stairs, recognizing the pattern of lines etched along the floor and wall... and also the lumpy bag shoved in the far corner. "Shishou?" she asked, glancing at Harusame.
"I've been working off your notes of the memory-enhancing seal for the past few weeks since you were busy," he informed her crisply. "Your rough draft seemed stable enough for the most part, so after some minor tweaks I decided to draw up a full version for testing."
"And the body in the corner is...?"
He glanced at her, his smirk taking on a bloodthirsty edge. "As I said, I thought it was ready for testing. So I did."
Sute just stared at him, admittedly a bit off-guard. For all his unusual kindly demeanor, that did not change the fact that Harusame was a product of the Bloody Mist. He had been part of the generation which had slaughtered a classmate in order to graduate, and he had no qualms killing people. Or using captured enemies as test subjects for his seals, apparently.
"...Huh," she said finally, not sure what else to say. Turning back to the array, she cocked her head. "So how does it work?"
"Just pulse chakra into it, and focus on what you want to remember. I've placed a hard time limit of five minutes on each usage so you don't get trapped in your memories. I've already tested it twice in the past, so it should be physically safe. The subjects didn't appear to suffer any noticeable brain damage before I killed them."
"How reassuring," Sute drawled sarcastically, already strolling towards the center of the complex array. A majority of the seals in the room actually had no relation to the memory-enhancing seal she'd designed, but instead existed as safety precautions for testing particularly risky seals. Safety measures could only do so much for fuinjutsu though, testing new seals always carried a bit of risk.
Her seal itself barely took up one square foot on the floor, located in a large circle in the center of the array. Sute sat cross-legged in the circle and placed a hand on the ground where it had been drawn, closing her eyes. Focusing on the thought of the book's cover and title, she pulsed her chakra into the seal—
Two minutes later Sute opened her eyes with a small breath, the world briefly spinning around her as the colors and shapes seemed to swirl violently. Blinking blearily, she quickly grabbed at her head with a pained hiss as she felt herself sway. A large hand quickly grabbed her shoulder, holding her steady as she waited for the sudden sense of vertigo to fade.
Gradually the world came back into focus, the dim features of the basement workshop emerging. Exhaling softly, she lowered her hands and closed her eyes for a few moments, letting the tension seep out of her shoulders. "I'm okay," she breathed out. "I'm back." After a moment the hand removed itself, and she twisted her head slightly to see Harusame hovering behind her, a vaguely worried look on his face.
"Nothing feels wrong?" he pressed. "No disorientation? No sense of disconnect?"
"My mental faculties seem to be in order," Sute responded calmly, shaking her head. "Just... It's powerful. Stronger than I expected." Rather than just conjure the memories, it felt as if she directly experienced it again. She'd held the book in her hands, able to feel the overly scratchy fabric of the ratty old couch in the living room she'd thrown out a year ago. Already the experience started to fade from her memory, just like all memories, but it still lingered fresh in her mind as if it had just happened.
"That book's writing was so dry," she muttered to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose. "How the hell did I even read it the first time?"
"Do you know the culprit?" Harusame asked, arching an eyebrow, and she bobbed her head.
"It was Kizaru, the carpenter. The detective's end-case spiel should be on page one seventy-six, I think." She'd been reading the climax of the book in the memory, where the detective had confronted the culprit and explained all their findings. In retrospect, the scene had been unbelievably cheesy and overly dramatic.
She heard the flipping of pages behind her and a thoughtful hum. "Yes, that's right. In that case, I suppose we should mark it as a success."
"For now," she agreed with a light shrug as she rose to her feet, her mind still racing and analyzing the experience. The clarity really had been startling; she'd hoped to just pull it up for easier access, not experience it so... directly. More than that, she'd experienced it in real time, which made it a bit less time-efficient than she'd like—and also a bit too vulnerable.
Her entire reason for wanting the seal was to access memories of the Naruto canon from her past life. Chances are she wouldn't always be in a situation where she could safely retreat and spend five minutes watching some scene from an old episode; she planned to go missing-nin, and she probably wouldn't have someone to watch her back. Worse, the five-minute scene might not even contain all the information she wanted or needed.
No, while it was serviceable for now, she'd need to make some serious adjustments before she left Kiri if she wanted it to be practical. For now though she pushed the thought away as she turned to her teacher. "Thanks. Do you mind keeping this from the higher-ups though?"
"You mean to hide something from the Mizukage?" Harusame questioned, loftily arching his eyebrows as he peered at her down the bridge of his nose. "That's akin to treason."
"Does he know the contents of your secret project?" Sute countered loftily, and the small smirk he offered her told her he didn't.
"Very well. I wish you luck with your experimentations, Sute-chan."
Day four of her leave proved a bit less relaxing.
"Whyyy..."
Sute bowed her head mournfully as she knelt on the stone path in her greenhouse, moaning in heavy dismay. Before her, the water hemlock had been reduced to a bunch of shriveled brown petals. Despite her best efforts, the damn flower shriveled up and died. At this rate she felt ready to just give up. She would need to use mokuton to keep the damn thing alive.
As she mourned the difficult plant's demise Utakata hovered behind her, perfectly unsympathetic to her despair. "It's actually kind of impressive it died," he remarked lightly. "You have plants from the deserts around Suna in here, but you somehow can't keep one of Kiri's own local plants alive."
"It's got to be the soil," she muttered, wiping her face with her hand as she got up. "This thing grows right around the border of the marshes and the lake. It's such a vague area because it's right at the edge of both ecosystems, I can't recreate the exact conditions properly." Recreating the fluctuating humidity levels would be a pain, same for the general soil conditions stemming from the blending ecosystems; fuinjutsu couldn't do everything. Water hemlock hadn't been nearly so finicky in her last life, she thought irritably.
Utakata did not respond to her mutterings, his attention focused elsewhere. "...Sute, do you have your mamushi running loose?" he asked slowly. She turned her head towards him, following his gaze to a scaly brown form slithering beneath the shadows of a large, leafy fern.
"Oh, hey, Mushishi," she greeted with a small nod in the serpent's direction, and Utakata turned a wary amber eye towards her.
"You renamed it?"
"Oh, no, I got another one." He flinched at that, but to his credit he didn't react with any more shock than that, instead just looking more resigned to her actions.
"I know you need their venom for poisons, but do you really need two?" he questioned lowly, and she shrugged.
"Milking snakes isn't really feasible with only one snake, doing it too much would cause them more harm than good. It's best to have multiple snakes so I can alternate between them and let them rest."
"...I'm sorry, but did you just say 'milking snakes'?"
"That's the proper term for collecting snake venom," she responded with a wry smile, perfectly aware of how silly the term sounded. Milking snakes had to be one of the single weirdest skills carried over from her first life, though it had been incredibly useful in this one. "It works better with an assistant though, maybe you could give me a hand sometime?"
"What would that even include?"
"Mostly holding it while I get it to bite down on a jar."
"...I want to say no, but I'm actually kind of curious," Utakata admitted grudgingly, and she smiled.
"Sweet! We can try it later this week!"
"If I get bitten, I'm counting on you to give me the antivenom ASAP," he informed her flatly. "Don't just wait for the Rokubi's chakra to push it out of my system."
"Didn't I already say I liked you too much to do that?" Sute retorted, and Utakata paused briefly before shuddering.
"I'm almost starting to miss you being busy with training all the time."
"Jerk." She rolled her eyes and turned away from the plant, mentally deeming it a lost cause. "Anyways, thanks for providing moral support. So obviously we won't need to cover how to care for that."
"You still haven't explained why you need to prepare me for long-term greenhouse sitting," Utakata commented, and she smiled at him.
"Sorry, it's classified." As he glared at her sourly Sute could already tell she'd love avoiding questions about her ANBU work. Today marked the penultimate day of her rest period, and in two short days she'd be receiving her first mission as a Mist ANBU. Of course she had no idea what that mission would entail, so she needed to make sure Utakata would be prepared to care for the greenhouse anywhere from one day to more than month. Hopefully it wouldn't be the latter, that would be a bit long for her tastes.
At this point a bell began tinkling, and she nonchalantly turned and started towards the front of the greenhouse, Utakata following behind with a deceptively relaxed gait. He'd been one of the few she'd informed of the warning system, and she could see the minor tension in his posture, ready to lunge and fight at a moment's notice. "Anyways, should we have a funeral for it?" she asked.
"What would a funeral for a plant even include?" he mused lightly, playing along with the odd inquiry in case someone could somehow overhear them despite the security and privacy seals. "Funerals usually involve flowers, but at a funeral for a plant..."
"The flowers are blood sacrifices," Sute replied solemnly, "so that the hemlock will not be alone in the plant afterlife."
"If that's how you handle a plant's funeral, I'm afraid to see how you handle one for a person," Utakata quipped dryly.
"Eh, I leave the planning for those to others."
"Good. Because I'm specifically updating my will to order you to have no involvement in my funeral."
"I'd be offended, but you are probably correct to be wary."
By that point they'd reached the front of the greenhouse, another bell joining the chorus. Utakata casually glanced upwards, his visible eye narrowing. "One and seven," he told her quietly, and Sute huffed out a small breath. Bell one meant a gate intrusion, and bell seven meant the visitor would be directly outside the greenhouse. They exchanged knowing looks, and Sute stalked to the door and threw it open.
Zabuza stood a few feet away, looking rather unimpressed. "Oi, Ringo, what's with all the traps?" he questioned gruffly. "Your yard's practically a minefield."
"I take security very seriously," Sute responded with a shrug, while Utakata quietly stood to attention behind her.
"What do you want, Momochi?" he demanded lowly, and Zabuza's eyes narrowed in return.
"Business," he replied shortly.
"So specific," Utakata drawled, folding his arms, and the other male glared at him while Sute watched with faint amusement. For some reason the two really did not get along. She had no idea why or when their animosity started, as she'd only seen them interact a handful of times, but they tended to glare and make low, snarky comments full of obvious disdain. She found it strange but amusing, though right now might not be the time for it.
"What kind of business?" she questioned, leaning against the door frame and arching her eyebrows. Zabuza quickly turned back to her, his face twisting into a scowl beneath the bandages.
"Business," he repeated, and this time she noticed his hand flex at his side, the middle and ring fingers folding inwards. Immediately her light mood faded to a professional veneer, recognizing the silent gesture for a private conversation from her ANBU training. It surprised her to see it already since she still had two days leave, but she supposed it shouldn't surprise her. ANBU business, then.
"Sorry, Uta," she said, glancing at her friend. "I think he wants to talk to me alone." Utakata squinted at her warily, clearly displeased at the dismissal, but soon huffed and crossed his arms.
"Fine," he said briskly. "I'll just head out, then." He stalked past her and likely would have shoved against Zabuza had the older teen not stepped aside, leaving Sute to sigh. Not for the first time, she wondered what caused their weird animosity.
"Come on, there's silencing seals around the greenhouse," she said to Zabuza, gesturing her head to the space Utakata had formerly occupied, and he took up her invitation and walked inside.
"I can't believe you actually got into ANBU," he said once the door closed. "Since when the hell have you been aiming for that?"
"A while," she replied cryptically, crossing her arms. "But that's not why you're here. Skip the small talk, Momochi. What's going on?"
"Emergency patrol. Someone tried to break into the old records building." Sute stiffened at that, instantly snapping to sharp attention. The old records building referred to an older structure which housed more historical and archived documents. Nothing relating to active duty forces, but the documents there still held some important information about old patrol routes and treaties... including some which violated other old treaties.
Some of it could definitely reignite faded anger if it fell into the wrong hands.
"When was it?" she asked, all business.
"Within the last three hours. Someone found the guard unconscious near the door at shift change, still haven't been able to wake him up or figure out if anything went missing. Higher-ups want as many people on the ground patrolling the borders as possible. On that note, catch." He pulled a book out of his vest and tossed it to her, Sute catching it on reflex and glancing at the cover.
"A bingo book?" she asked, her interest now thoroughly piqued. It'd been a while since she'd seen one, and this one looked new.
"There's rumors that Kumo's got some people nosing around," Zabuza informed her gruffly. "Not sure how accurate they are, but apparently the guard has those lightning scars on the back of his neck—"
"Like this?" Sute asked, holding up her hand to indicate the tree-like scar on her palm. Zabuza paused in his briefing, squinting at it suspiciously.
"You're not learning raiton now, are you?"
"Not really, made a spark and shocked myself, stopped there. Just didn't bother healing it." She lowered her hand and asked, "So does it match that or not?"
"Yeah, it does," Zabuza confirmed gruffly. "Obviously raiton's not a common affinity around here. The higher-ups want us to do a refresh on the Cloud nin section just to be safe."
"Kumo, huh?" Sute mused, flipping through the book curiously. Kumo had to be one of the larger blanks in her knowledge. It was the only village that didn't sprout an Akatsuki member, and by the time she'd stopped reading it still hadn't made any major appearances. Seriously, even Iwa had Deidara and the guys who killed Obito. The only appearance of a Cloud ninja she could recall would probably be the Hyuuga kidnapping, which should be...
She paused. "Hey, have you heard anything from Konoha about a kidnapping attempt?"
Zabuza's blank looks answered her question perfectly. "Why the hell would I hear about a kidnapping there?"
"Reasons," Sute dismissed with a shrug, knowing he wouldn't press her for details, and then paused as she finally reached the first page of the Kumo section. Her gaze sharpened instantly, her lazy slouch straightening as she narrowed her eyes. "What the hell?"
"Never seen Cloud nin before?" Zabuza guessed, ignoring her gratuitous switch to English. She'd done it enough that most people just wrote it off as a quirk at this point.
"No, I haven't," she confirmed lowly, frowning at the photo on the page. Fittingly enough the section opened with the current Raikage, a dark-skinned man with a goatee and white-blond hair combed back... actually, no, it wasn't combed back, those were cornrows. Cool, stylish white-blond cornrows sported by an obviously black guy.
Her brain temporarily shut down as she stared at the photo. After fourteen years in the Naruto universe, Sute had kind of assumed it was one of those anime universes with a singular generic anime-ethnicity. She'd been used to everyone having some weird anime-blend of Asian and Caucasian features in this life, with a heavier emphasis on the Asian side and a spattering of unnatural hair colors—and, in some cases, skin colors too, as evidenced by Kisame and Orochimaru.
Which... actually, if Kisame had blue skin, then why not assume that black people might exist too?
"...Ringo, are you okay?" Zabuza seemed mildly perturbed by her extended silence, eying her warily. She blinked and then shook her head, shrugging as she shoved away the sudden pang of uncomfortable nostalgia.
"Sorry, got lost in thought," she replied airily, turning the page. And then froze as her brain shut down again, this time at the sight of a similarly dark-skinned white-haired man sporting sunglasses and a facial tattoo resembling horns. "...Kira... Bii...?"
"The Eight-Tails jinchuuriki," Zabuza informed her bluntly. "Don't bother with his entry right now, he works with the Raikage so he's not likely to show up."
"But..." Sute trailed off, flipping ahead and squinting at the entries with renewed interest. She lingered on one in particular, the previous Raikage who'd been featured for posterity. Apparently he'd taken on a student—identity still unknown—and had passed on a technique to create black lightning called "Kuropansa".
"Kuro pansa," she said blandly. "Kuro panther. Black panther."
"Okay, this is getting weird even for you," Zabuza declared. "Are you going to freak out, or can I continue the briefing?" Sute sighed, shaking her head to clear her thoughts.
"No, I'm fine. Sorry about that, just a bit shocked. It just reminds me of... well, before." She offered a vague shrug, referencing her first life, but she knew he'd interpret it as a reference to before coming to Kiri. His expression remained sharp but she saw a glint of understanding in his eyes as he nodded, no doubt reaching his own conclusions.
"Right. Just don't let it get to you, then."
"Please, I'm a professional," she replied, turning the page to another pair of entries. This time a man with lighter skin and pale blond hair on one page, and another guy with dark skin and bright yellow and orange hair on the other. "So how likely do you think it is Kumo's actually skulking around? Most of these guys don't exactly blend in with the Kiri crowd." Most people wouldn't blend in with Kiri—they had a lot more blue hair than other countries—but even then, most of these guys would stick out like sore thumbs.
"Not sure, but doesn't matter," Zabuza grunted. "Go to the gates in fifteen minutes, you'll be patrolling the area outside the village solo. Remember Tsurugi?"
"From our platoon back in the war?" she asked, closing the book, and he nodded once.
"Good, that saves us time. He'll be waiting around the gates and will tell you the specific area you're assigned. Higher-ups want this to be investigated discreetly in case the culprit's still in the village, so don't worry about needing a uniform this time. Just play it off as a normal patrol."
"Got it. I'll grab my gear and head out." Zabuza nodded at her and left without so much as a farewell, Sute close behind to go to her house to gather her supplies. Once she'd stepped through the door she pulled out the bingo book again, flipping back to the entry on the jinchuuriki and focusing on the katakana characters for his name. Katakana, in her old life, had been mostly reserved for writing out foreign words or other words borrowed from foreign languages.
For example, English words.
"Kira Bii," she read aloud. "Killer Bee." A small giggle escaped her at that, amused as she flipped through the other pages. From what she could tell, Kumo had a fair mixture of fantasy-black people and the generic anime ethnicity, though interestingly a lot of people tended to have blond hair. Combined with her basic knowledge of Japanese culture and how other cultures tended to be portrayed in manga and anime, she reached a simple conclusion:
Kumo was a freaking America expy.
The thought made her laugh, eyes glinting exciting. "Interesting," she breathed, grin growing wider, and slammed the book shut to begin preparing.