I know I said I didn't have a reason for asking for animals with chaotic energy, but I do. Please give me some animals.
She'd finally mastered the fucking Iceball.
It turned out, that whole water + wind = ice nonsense that she'd so easily dismissed was actually grounded in some fact.
She'd managed to wheedle an explanation of the hand signs out of Junsuke-jii-sama, and began trying to rearrange them in her favor. She couldn't just do whatever, though, since her end product still had to resemble the original Fireball to count. So, instead, she focused on the two elemental signs. The first, Snake, was for lightning while the last, Tiger, was for fire. She'd already swapped out Tiger for Dog, courtesy of Tobirama, and she'd spent so much time spitting out water she felt like a fountain. When she switched out Snake for Dog, she ended up vomiting and losing a tooth from the pressure. So that was a no. She wasn't about to use Tiger and risk melting her face off with steam or something equally ghastly, so she tried Bird, the wind sign.
And it made a difference.
Water came out of her mouth like normal, and she initially dismissed the modification as a dud. It became quickly apparent that it wasn't. In a matter of seconds, the air around her became almost unbearably hot and dry in radical contrast with the water which froze once it hit the ground.
It took Kyou several more attempts before she realized what was happening. By using Bird, she was essentially creating a pathway for the heat in the water to escape, letting it freeze much faster than her molecular encouragement had allowed. She tried the same concept on another jug of water and cackled at her success.
Wind + Water = Ice!
She was still allowed to be mad about it, though. She never claimed not to be petty.
The look of horror on Izuna's pale face when he saw her demonstrate it for the elders and his father~. That she would savor. It was already memorized, courtesy of the sharingan. Ah, such a wonderful thing it was.
The Iceball itself was terrifying. A massive fountain of water erupted from her face, rolling in on itself and freezing around anything caught inside it, like a water bottle shaken after a night in the freezer. The ice crystals were pretty, and some of them were as big as Izuna's head.
Hah!
Oh, god, she really needed a better hobby than torturing children. She'd end up just like Satan at this rate.
Like his son, Tajima looked like he'd swallowed an entire lemon. Madara, on the other hand, actually congratulated her, enveloping her in one of the few hugs she could remember receiving in this new life. It was all she could do not to cry.
Apparently, the Iceball was more controversial than she'd anticipated, and the council of elders argued about it for days before they announced that she'd completed the Uchiha rite of passage. They made it obvious that it was a special exception though, made just for her and her suiton. Because she totally needed more enemies.
"Kyou," Satan's scary face was glowing with pride. "You've done well. I've already petitioned the council to allow you into combat with me."
Wait, what?
She stared up at her father with wide, frightened eyes. "But, father, I'm still three."
His smile widened, that horrifying manic edge creeping into his expression as he pat her head. "I know! You've made me very proud, Kyou."
"A-aren't I still too little?"
His fingers fisted in her hair. "What was that, Kyou? I didn't quite hear you."
Aw, fuck. "I'm so little! I can't go fight when I'm so much smaller than everyone! A-and I'm slow! I'll die, father! I don't want to die!"
Ah, how desperate she was, to be clinging to Satan in her hour of need.
Satan stared down at her, his smile gone. She stared at her reflection in his black eyes, quivering in his grip as she waited for his reply. It had been a long time since her last outburst, and she still winced when she stepped wrong. Surely he wouldn't hurt her too badly if he planned to take her out on missions with him, right?
Fuckity fuck fuck.
He shoved her. Hard. She hit the ground with a thud and a gasp as she struggled to get air back into her lungs. He pressed his sandaled foot into her back, leaning over his knee to scowl down at her.
"Then fight."
He walked away, leaving Kyou in the leaf littered dirt. She lay there for a moment, just breathing, before she pushed her hand underneath herself.
"Kyou?"
Shit.
She looked up into the wide eyes of her least favorite cousin, the look of softly confused horror completely out of place on him.
"Go ahead," she spat at him. "I know you want to say it. This is what I deserve, right? For being a freak of nature?"
Izuna flinched as she threw his own words back at him, mouth gaping open and shut like a fish out of water. She pulled herself to her feet with a groan, glaring at her cousin with open malice. Now would be a perfect time for her namesake killing intent to kick in, but it seemed her luck had been wasted on the stupid jutsu.
She rubbed at her face, wiping blood from her nose as she stomped past him. She had more important things to do than mollycoddle a brat who'd done nothing but add to her trauma. Not that she had any.
Fuck.
Once inside her house, she crawled into the bed. It was weird, sharing with both her mother and Satan, but she'd long ago grown accustomed to it. In winter, she couldn't be bothered to care, her father's warmth the only thing keeping out the cold. Her grandmother lived in another house, and she often wondered how the older woman managed during those cold months. She seemed fine, though.
Her mother didn't react as Kyou snuggled up to her, tears welling in her eyes.
"It's not fair," she complained quietly. "I don't want to fight. I just want to be strong enough to live."
Her mother said nothing.
With a sniff, Kyou pulled back to regard her mother.
"I hope I look like you," she told the unresponsive woman. "I don't know what I'll do if I end up looking like Satan. Are permanent henges a thing?"
No reply.
"Y'know, I bet he did this to you. It totally makes sense. He can barely stand it when I breathe next to him, so you must have driven him insane, huh?"
A blank stare was her only reply.
"One day, when I get strong enough, I'm gonna leave this shit hole Clan. I'll take you with me, and we'll go to the Senju so they can fix you up! I know, I know, the Senju are our enemies! I'll tell you a secret: I'm actually friends with some. Don't tell Satan! Who knows how he'd use that." She smiled crookedly at her mother's thin face. "I'll get you out of here, Kaa-chan. I promise!"
Sometimes she wondered why she was so fixated on the woman. It wasn't like they'd ever bonded over anything. They'd never held a single conversation, never shared meaningful glances, never fought over anything trivial the way she had with her first mother. Still, Kyou was attached to Uchiha Hitomi in a way that transcended reason.
She sat herself down in her mother's lap, snuggling against her like the child she was, and cried herself to sleep.
BREAK
Her worst nightmare came true sooner than she'd hoped.
Satan helped her put on her—conveniently child sized—armor, the leather scales dyed red and smelling strongly of hardening lacquer. His big hands were surprisingly deft as he tied her spaulders in place, making quick work of the mess of cords. She'd need help getting out of it, too, and she absently wondered how he got his own armor on without help. He fastened her sword belt in place and gave her a once over.
"Lift your arms, Kyou. Can you move freely?"
She did as she was told, twisting so he could see if anything needed adjusting and trying in vain to ignore the twisting knot in her gut. She was still so small, and she knew she wasn't as physically able as her older cousins, let alone adults. Was Satan so desperate to have her prove herself that he'd risk her life?
He nodded his approval—she looked like a mini him, so of course he was happy—and pulled her over to him. He gathered her hair up into a ponytail, hands rough as he fastened it in place.
"Do you have any questions, Kyou?"
Oh, did she. "Why do we wear sandals with full body armor? It seems kind of dumb to risk stubbing your toe on a battlefield."
His hands froze in her hair and she stilled in response, only relaxing when he began to chuckle softly.
"That is a good question. I've never thought about it."
"Really?" She turned around to look up at him, doing her utmost to look small and vulnerable. She pointed at her feet. "But they're so silly."
He smiled, looking the perfect picture of an exasperated father. "It's tradition, Kyou. And I don't know anyone who's stubbed their toe in battle."
Ah, he'd jinxed it. It was totally gonna happen now. Probably to her.
He placed a hand on her head and gently guided her out of their home and into the village, snow falling gently from an overcast sky. The rest of the men were gathered near the gate, their armor all varying shades of red or brown, the uchiwa emblazoned on their backs. She stuck to her father's side like a limpet, refusing to even look at the group of armored children. Shuji let her, too, keeping his hand on her head as he spoke with his peers.
"Hey, Kyou-kun, are you ready?"
She looked up at Madara, eyes widening as her father's grip on her head tightened. Fuck. She wasn't supposed to talk to him. It was a shame, considering he was one of the only people who didn't treat her like literal shit, but she could be his friend or live, not both.
She nodded shakily, avoiding her cousin's gaze. Izuna called him away, and Satan let her go when he left.
"Are you sure he should be going out with us," one of the adults asked him. "He looks a little green."
Shuji smiled in that way that made him look human, tightening Kyou's ponytail with a distantly fond expression. "So did we, our first time out."
His friends laughed and began reminiscing about their first battles. It was like a warped version of the Japanese first errand, with some of them recounting first kills.
Kyou felt like vomiting. If she vomited, maybe she could stay home and practice sewing with Baa-chan instead. Maybe cut her mom's hair. Live to see tomorrow. Those sorts of things.
She didn't want to kill anyone. Ever. She could barely handle killing chickens for dinner, how was she supposed to manage a whole ass person?
Her father crouched down in front of her, smiling softly as he ruffled her fringe. "Don't worry Kyou. This is just about getting your feet wet. Don't worry about fighting and just focus on surviving, alright? Leave the Senju bastards to us."
Yeah. Right. She could do that.
God, why did it have to be the Senju?
Madara and Hashirama hadn't met yet, as far as she knew. She figured Izuna's behavior would tip her off, if anything, but he'd been the same old asshole for forever. How the hell did they manage to avoid meeting each other on the battlefield when their Clans fought so often?
Plot.
Kyou was not a main character. Hell, she probably didn't even exist in the original timeline. The plot would not save her from meeting her only friends in the fight.
Tajima called out to the group and everyone leapt into the air, leaving Kyou fumbling as she rushed to catch up with them. She wasn't the only one, she noticed. The children made up their own group, following in the wake of the adults. The strongest—Madara, Izuna, and the older kids—took point while Kyou struggled to keep up with kids a whole year older than her.
No one pointed it out, though. They would once they got home—if they came home—but they all kept their gazes trained ahead, expressions grim in a way no child's should be. It was unnerving, to say the least. They were rushing toward their potential doom, to fight against an enemy that would show children no mercy. How could they be so calm about it?
Maybe, if she was a normal kid with no other life to reference, she'd be just as calm.
But she wasn't, so she was, instead freaking the fuck out.
Privately, of course, but still.
The sounds of voices and metal on metal reached her ears, indicating that they had caught up with the adults and would soon be expected to join the fray. Her cousins wasted no time, leaping down into the battle and taking up arms, but Kyou hesitated. She stood in a tree and looked down in horror at the battle. People were leaping across the clearing with inhuman speed, clashing in angry combat. Jutsus were launched with reckless abandon, giving new meaning to the term 'friendly fire'.
She was supposed to just, jump in?
Sure, she new how to kill a grown man. It was a fundamental part of her training. She was too small to put any of it into practice, though, and everyone knew it. There was a reason kids only went into battle once they were five! She was four!
Kyou shuddered as a particularly pained scream cut over the din of battle and gathered her courage. There was only one thing to be done.
Run away!
She couldn't leave leave, obviously, but she could avoid most of the combat by staying in the trees on the outskirts of the clearing. Maybe, she could jump in and fight a Senju child? Not to the death! Just enough that her armor would get scuffed and she could say she did something.
Yeah, that would work.
Right?
"Hey, brat!"
Fuck!
She froze, waiting for whoever spoke to attack her. It was an adult voice, so her best bet was to run, but she couldn't risk running right into them.
"L-leave me alone!"
That was not an adult voice.
She moved quickly, coming to a stop when she found herself looking down at an all too familiar scene.
Five Uchiha men standing in an arcing row, a small child backed up against a rock as he stared up at them in terror.
Itama!
She had to move, had to do something! She knew what they would do to him if she didn't! Move body, move!
Kyou landed behind her kinsmen, surprising them. They relaxed when they recognized her and one of them—the one who'd questioned her readiness back in the village, her father's friend—smiled at her.
"Ah, Kyou, perfect timing! We've managed to corner one of Butsuma's brats. His head will go a long way toward making you the Clan heir, don't you think?"
Kyou met Itama's wide eyes in stunned silence. The other men scolded the first for saying such things out loud, but their words and his rebuttal fell on cotton filled ears.
He wanted her to-to kill Itama? So she could take Madara's place as heir? What the fuck?
How could one man go from paternal concern to bloodthirsty disregard in so little time? It hadn't even been half an hour!
Itama looked at her with wide eyed recognition, fear in his eyes.
How the fuck could she kill Itama? He was barely bigger than she was. He liked spitting watermelon seeds in the air and cutting them with his kunai. He played hide and seek with her and sometimes let her win. He was just a little boy.
"Kyou, are you alri—!"
He choked on his words, the full weight of her anger falling on him and his comrades as she let it go. She turned burning eyes on him, memorizing his confused expression as her sharingan kicked in. Then, she pulled a kunai from her pouch and dove, jamming the blade into his exposed feet. He howled in pain, body automatically folding in on itself as he reached for his foot. She freed her kunai and forced it up into the underside of his jaw, using his own momentum to propel it up into his brain. His blood gushed over her hands as she shoved his gurgling head away from her, the sticky liquid making her hands slip as she dug through her pouch for more blades. The other Uchihas had begun to throw off her KI, and she knew she wouldn't be able to fight them all off. If even one of them lived…
"Itama!" She called out to her friend as she cut through an attacker's hamstring. "Help me!"
She didn't check to see if he listened, focusing instead on her much larger, very angry opponents. Even if he ran, it would be a good outcome. Maybe he'd bring help.
Pft. As if.
She plunged her kunai into an uncle's neck, leaving him for dead as she leapt to face another. Her sharingan mapped out their moves, but theirs were doing the same for hers. She'd lost the element of surprise, and there was no way she'd be able to win against grown Uchihas, even with Itama's help. One of them raised a sword, the blade gleaming ominously as it bore down on her. She raised a kunai in defense, but knew she wasn't strong enough to fend off such a blow.
A pale blur shoved her attacker back and Kyou recognized Tobirama's white hair. He forced his opponent to the ground with his momentum, their blades sparking with the force of impact.
Her uncle was dead in seconds.
"You…You treacherous little shit!"
She barely managed to roll out of the way as one of the two remaining Uchihas lunged for her from behind. She quickly formed a series of hand signs starting and ending on Dog and blew him away with a pressurized stream of water to the face. His arms flailed as he tried to fend it off, but his struggles were brought to an abrupt end as Itama drove his own kunai into the back of his neck.
Only one uncle left. He'd watched everything go down with wide, unbelieving eyes. Now, he met and held Kyou's gaze, smiling slightly.
"Shuji must be so proud."
He crumpled like a piece of wet paper, though she wasn't sure if it was her kunai between his eyes or Tobirama's sword in his gut that did it.
Fuck.
She looked at the bodies strewn about the forest floor, their blood on her hands.
Fuck.
They looked like her, with dark hair and darker clothing under red armor.
Fuck.
She vomited. Even with an empty stomach, she heaved, her hands braced on the ground as she strove to cleanse her every pore of the horrors she'd just wrought.
Fuck.
She'd never forget it. Her sharingan wouldn't let her. She'd always be able to conjure the memory of her father's friends falling to her hands. Her uncles. Her family.
Fuck.
"K-Kyou-k-kun?" Itama's voice was thin and weak, but it broke through the numbness blanketing her mind like a dart through a balloon. "Are you alright?"
She sat up on her knees, turning still burning eyes on her friend. He was as bloody as she was, she noticed, but the blood on his hands belonged to his enemies.
"Alright? I just killed my uncle, and you're asking if I'm alright?" She laughed, her body hurting from the strain of vomiting. Itama looked ashamed and she smiled. "Yes, actually. I am alright."
Satan really would be proud, wouldn't he?
Fuck.
"Why, I mean, I didn't—You're an Uchiha?"
Ah. So this was how it ended. Oh well. It was fun while it lasted.
She closed her eyes, willing her eyes back to their natural black. "Yep. And you're a Senju." She struggled to her feet, carefully avoiding looking at her sticky hands. Her gaze landed on Itama's confused expression. "It's pretty obvious, at this point, huh?"
A blade pressed itself against her throat, and she followed the length of the sword to Tobirama. He was glaring fiercely at her, his face framed by that weirdly shaped hitai ate of his. His armor was dark green, she noted, and she vaguely wondered when he'd start wearing his iconic blue.
"Come on, Tobi," she crooned. "We both know that if you were gonna kill me you'd have done it, by now."
His expression soured further, and he put himself between her and his brother, never once lowering his blade.
She huffed, insulted. "If I was gonna kill him I'd have done it when my uncle told me to."
Instead, she'd killed her uncle. Uncles. Plural.
Fuck.
Itama placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Aniki, he saved me."
Yeah. She had, hadn't she. That's what she wanted, right? To save Itama? And, now, the world was down five whole child murderers.
That was…pretty sweet, actually. The only murderer who mattered was still at large though.
She took in a deep, deep breath, letting it out in a voiced exhale. Then, she met Tobirama's eyes.
"I'm sorry we can't be friends anymore," she said honestly. "For the record, I really liked you guys."
"Kyou-kun—."
"Maybe one day," she cut Itama off. "We won't have to fight anymore, and we can be friends again."
She turned away from the brothers, trusting them not to stab her in the back as she trudged away from them. Tears began falling down her face, and by the time someone found her she was sobbing uncontrollably against a tree.
"Kyou-kun, are you alright?"
Madara's hands pushed her hair from her face, concern etched into his cute face as he tried to calm her down. The battle must have ended if he was free to deal with her like that.
"It's alright, Kyou," he said encouragingly. "Everyone feels like this after their first kill. It gets better, I promise."
It shouldn't get better. She didn't want to be desensitized to murder, ending lives like they meant nothing. She didn't want to look at a child and see a too for her own advancement.
She didn't want to be like her father.
"Kyou."
Speak of Satan, and he shall appear.
She didn't have it in her to protest when he picked her up, holding her against him like they weren't both wearing bloodstained armor in the middle of a killing field. He pressed a hand against the back of her head, forcing her face against the steel of his spaulders. He spoke, voice low, and Kyou's very soul roiled.
"I'm proud of you, Kyou."