This was originally gonna be part of a single massive chapter alongside the previous two, and I am so very glad I split it, holy cow. The next chapter was gonna be part of it too! No way Jose, nope, never, nunca, I'd rather die. Blegh.
Ah, such naïveté. So blissful, so fleeting, so treacherous.
It was not fun. It was the furthest thing from fun. If fun was the sun, it was on Pluto…er…ninja Pluto?
It, of course, was training with her mother. While intellectually stimulating—when was the last time she actually used her brain instead of just letting her sharingan sort everything for her?—it was also physically taxing. She liked to think her stamina was pretty good, but she collapsed face first onto the pokey straw mattress at the end of every day without complaint, unconscious before she even hit the sheets.
They weren't even doing anything. Every morning, Kyou got up, made breakfast—because baa-chan still hadn't come back to visit her horrible, evil grandchild—cleaned up, and then joined her mother in her strengthening exercises. That was it. Except it wasn't.
Because her mother did everything so slowly. It was like watching a snail. Inch by agonizing inch, her mother moved across the room, lifting things only to put them back down. Kyou swore she was going extra slow just to make her life harder. And! The whole time, she was circulating chakra through her body, pumping it through her muscles like a ghostly steroid. She knew this because she'd taken a super secret peek with her sharingan, careful to keep it from her mother's view. The first thing that came to mind was Tsunade's super strength, but Kyou didn't know enough about it to be sure. It was probably something completely different, since the magic seal of eternal youth was an Uzumaki technique—right?—and her mom was obviously not an Uzumaki.
She was obviously not an Uchiha, either. Kyou'd never really thought about it past privately celebrating her own genetic diversity, but her mother didn't look like anyone else in the Clan. Uchihas were pale, with fluffy hair, round, black eyes, and short, stockier frames. Her mother was tall and slender—though that might have been her malnourishment—with a narrow face and skin that soaked up every errant sunbeam and tanned easily and eagerly. Her eyes were sharp and a warm brown, her nose was long and hooked, her mouth wide though her lips were thin. She didn't look anything like an Uchiha, at all.
Kyou wanted to ask about it, but she was afraid. Her mother got a weird look in her eyes when she tried to ask about her—even over things as simple and inane as a favorite food—and she hadn't lived as long as she had by poking at people with funny looks in their eyes. She was probably overreacting. In fact, she knew she was. She still couldn't find the courage to ignore the instincts which had saved her from the worst of Satan's wrath.
So, rather than voicing any of the million questions running through her mind, she focused on manipulating her chakra. Yin chakra was still beyond her grasp and she wasn't at all bitter about how hard learning was without the sharingan. Not at all.
Ok, she totally was, but that was nobody's business but hers.
It wasn't her fault the pinwheel of darkness made everything easier. They weren't a catch all cheat like the anime made it seem, since knowing how to do something didn't automatically mean she had the ability to do it, herself, but they did round out the learning curve by a significant margin. At least, when using her sharingan, she knew what she needed to learn. Without it, she was stuck guessing and floundering in the dark.
It really drove home just how…unearned her reputation was. Tobirama was a real genius, making all his discoveries without an education or magic eyeballs. Imagine how amazing he could have been with both.
Kyou's melancholy dissipated when someone knocked on the door. Her mother immediately made to sit down, letting go of her chakra as she resumed her role as an invalid. Kyou opened to door, at once relieved and upset to see it wasn't her grandmother.
"Zuzu," she said with a chipper smile. "What do you want?"
He scowled at the nickname. "Father sent me to tell you we're fighting the Senju tonight. We leave at dusk."
Ah. Ok.
"Thanks for letting me know. I'll be ready."
Her cousin hesitated, lingering in the doorway with a grim expression. "Kyou," he pursed his lips, looking for all the world like he'd swallowed a lemon. "You can fight Tobirama, if you want. I know I'm the one who usually faces him, but, if you want to, you can do it."
Aw. How…murderously cute.
"Thanks for the offer, Zuzu, but I'm good." She smiled down at him with a shrug. "If anything, I should get him a gift."
Izuna snorted, his face melting into a smile he was clearly trying to restrain. "Right. Just thought I'd offer. See you later!"
She waved as he ran off, laughing to herself. She closed the door and turned back to her mother, her levity fading in the face of her serious expression.
"Kaa-chan? Is something wrong?"
Her mother beckoned her forward with her hand, reaching out and patting Kyou's head as she came over.
"The Senju are your friends, right?" Her voice was quiet, but much stronger than it was in the beginning. "I…remember you saying something like that, once."
Oh, wow! That was…ages ago. It was nice that she remembered.
"Yeah, I said that," she confirmed, smiling up at her mother. "We're not friends anymore, though."
"Oh, I'm sorry, sweeting."
Kyou shook her head, her mother's hand on her head ruffling her hair. "It's fine. It would have been nice to stay friends, but our families fight too often for that to be possible. In another life, maybe we could have been more than enemies."
"War is cruel," her mother agreed, running her nails through Kyou's hair. "Children shouldn't have to throw away their friendships over wars they didn't start. You shouldn't even be fighting."
Yeah! You say it ma!
"My poor little girl. You should be at home, not on a battlefield."
Um…yeah?
"If I didn't know they fate that awaited you, I'd tell the world the truth, so you could stay here with me."
Yeah, no.
Kyou pulled away from her mother's embrace, trying her best to school her expression despite her annoyance. "What do you mean?"
The older woman sighed, taking Kyou's face in her hands and caressing it with her thumbs. "Oh, Kyou, my Kyou. You've been trained as a shinobi, so you don't know what kunoichi are expected to suffer. The things we go through for the sake of the Clan—I would never wish it on anyone, least of all you. Never you." Her voice trailed off into a harsh whisper, a manic light in her eyes as her grip on Kyou's head tightened noticeably. "Never you."
Uhhh…
"But kaa-chan," she began, nervously licking at her lips. "Don't kunoichi know how to fight?"
Ah. That made it worse. She should have just waited for it to pass.
Her mother's expression warped into something foul, her brows furrowed and teeth bared. Her grip on Kyou's face grew uncomfortably strong, nails digging into her skin. Her breathing came in heaving gasps, her entire torso moving with the force of it. Her eyes were round, pupils blown wide with whatever demons had possessed her, a thin ring of brown around a pool of black. She was looking through Kyou, now, at something only she could see, something which frightened her.
Kyou could do nothing but wait for the episode to pass. Satan sometimes got a similar look in his eyes, gaze locked on the middle distance. She learned fast not to engage him when it happened, not if she wanted to go to bed uninjured. Even then, he often beat her, regardless, just for existing. Her mother had never raised a hand to her, but she'd only known her for a month. Even Satan waited a year before he hit her the first time.
And she was back, blinking as her eyes refocused. She let Kyou go with a hiss, holding her hands up and away from her daughter as though she'd been stung. She looked at Kyou with wide, terrified eyes, a light dawning in them.
"Oh, Kyou, I—." She reached for her only to draw back, her hands shaking roughly. "I—I—."
"It's ok, kaa-chan," Kyou assured her honestly. "It's my fault for asking."
Her mother's face crumpled, tears welling in her eyes. She brought her hands in toward her chest, folding in on herself with a sniff.
Kyou sucked on her teeth as she watched her mother close off. It was pretty early in the day for a shut down, but she had no one to blame but herself. With any luck, her mother would come back to herself by the time she came back from the battle.
Wait.
She turned to the ungainly heap she'd kept her armor in for the last month. Tajima had been merciful and allowed her to stay home for 'mourning', so she'd just left it while she focused on her mother. Satan had always put so much emphasis on caring for it, which made sense, but she got such a kick out of doing everything she knew he'd hate she just…left it.
She couldn't just leave it, anymore.
She rolled her neck with a sigh before walking over and settling into a lotus position and pulling a piece of armor from the pile. It was a greave, the red lacquered metal crusted over with month old dried blood. The leather ties were stiff and brittle and the padded silk interior was irreparably stained.
Oops.
She…probably should have cleaned it…
Kyou snapped her neck to the side, releasing a satisfyingly sickening series of cracks. There was nothing for it. She'd just have to clean it as best she could before dusk. It was still morning, anyway. She'd have time.
But only if she started now.
Right now.
Come on, brain, focus!
Nope. She should have done it while she was still in battle mode. The sun filtering through the one window hit her back at just the right angle, warming her body and urging her to sleep.
With a sigh, she looked over her shoulder at her mother. She was still sitting on the edge of the bed, nonresponsive. There'd be no help coming from her. Maybe, she could ask her grandmother…
The dread and sheer nopeness that filled her with that thought were enough to kickstart her motivation. She reached over and grabbed the old jar of leather softener and got to work, not at all guilty about her baa-chan. Nu-uh.
The armor was too small. Somehow, she'd outgrown it in a month. It was a pretty recent set, too, only just passed down to her from Madara when he got a new one. Her other cousins were super jealous about it, too. Sucks to suck.
She tugged idly at the vambrace on her arm, trying to get it to cover her wrist. It was a little embarrassing, really, almost like wearing highwaters to school, but with much deadlier consequences. She was viscerally aware of the gazes watching her, of the whispered conversations they took no pains to hide from her. Sure, the armor was too small and, yeah, there were still a few spots of blood she wasn't able to get out, but that wasn't her fault. She didn't ask to be tall.
(This was a lie. She'd prayed every day to inherit her mother's height. But that was irrelevant.)
A large hand settled heavily on her head, ruffling the hair she'd been unable to tie away from her face. She looked up at her uncle, his black eyes empty even as his mouth smiled.
"Kyou." Fuck. He wanted something. She could tell. "I need you to do something for me." Called it. He guided her away from the crowd of Uchihas waiting for the order to go, his thick fingers tangling in her hair. "You've been training your sharingan, right? Your Kairi? Do you think you can use it in battle, tonight?"
Ah. Ahahaha. No. Never. Not in a million years.
Yeah, 'cause she could totally just say that.
"Of course, Tajima-sama," she said instead, the words still intelligible despite her clenched teeth. "Is there anything else you would like me to do?"
He clearly didn't like her tone, but he didn't comment on it. "Try and use it against one of those Senju bastards, if you can. I want to know what it can do."
I wAnT tO kNoW wHaT iT cAn Do.
"Of course, Tajima-sama. I will do my best." Not.
He nodded, then stood there. Watching her. His hand on her head. Holding her still.
Fuck.
She sighed internally, cursing the man for daring to make sure she would listen. He'd forced her to give a demonstration for the council once he thought she'd had enough time to get the hang of it, so he knew what setting boundaries for Kairi looked like. Luckily, she'd gotten even better at it, and could probably slip some things past him.
"I will fight to the best of my ability." I will not hurt any children. "I will defend my Clansmen with all my power." I will defend any children regardless of their Clan. "Should the opportunity arise, I will use my sharingan on one of my opponents." I will do everything in my power to avoid such an opportunity. "I will deactivate my sharingan after the battle ends." And if any of the previous points are violated.
She closed her eyes, pulling chakra into her eyes and activating Kairi. Just like that, she was no longer annoyed with her uncle. She watched placidly as he walked away from her, leaving her on the outskirts of the gathering. No one approached her, not even Madara or Izuna, which was odd, but not an issue. When the order was given, she leapt into the air alongside her Clansmen, her chakra gathering in the soles of her feet and coating her sandals to give her traction as she jumped from tree branch to tree branch. Night raids made up the majority of their battles, their eyes granting them an advantage over most opponents, but it was rare that the Senju would be out after dark. Over the course of their millennia long war, the two Clans had earned the names "Day" and "Night" and held virtual monopolies over the work in those twelve hour periods. When they did overlap, it was often the result of rival clients trying to use the Clans' animosity to their benefit.
Kyou knew nothing about who'd hired her Clan. She didn't care. Even without Kairi, she'd never given it a second thought. It was one of the reasons she was unfit to lead, no matter how badly Junsuke-jii-sama wanted her to. Under her Mangekyou's influence, her flaws were even clearer. Too short tempered, too petty, too female—she met none of the necessary criteria for a proper Clan Head.
To be fair, neither did Tajima.
Madara was as close as anyone got, and she knew that might change the instant Zetsu sunk his claws into him.
Not that she cared. (She did, and Kairi made it impossible to deny.)
The battle was apparently to be had along a river, with both Clans lining up on either side of the rushing water. Something nagged at Kyou's memory, but Kairi kept the feeling at bay as she focused on Tajima, awaiting the signal to begin. He gave it, an almost imperceptible tightening of his shoulders, and typical battle chaos ensued.
Kyou immediately moved to the edge of the group, removing herself from the worst of the violence but not enough to spare her the need to fight. Kairi adhered to the conditions set for it with a vicelike grip. She'd promised to fight, so she would, but she'd also promised to avoid any chances to use her sharingan. They were almost contradictory orders, but fulfilling them both was easy so long as she focused on subduing her opponents as quickly as possible and made sure to fight only adults. They were all careful to avoid her gaze—she had no idea what it even looked like, since she'd never owned a mirror in her life—and Kairi was all too happy to pick them off one by one. She was actually running out of people to fight. If she wasn't careful, she'd have to move toward the cluster of jutsus and murder where most of the fighting was happening. It would be a lot harder to meet all the criteria set before activation if she did, though, so it was probably best to—.
"Kyou-kun!"
Dread skirted the edges of her consciousness, and memories of fleeing this particular child rose unbidden in her mind. Kairi felt no need to run, however, and instead raised her kunai defensively.
"Kyou-kun," Itama said as he came to stand in front of her, his two toned hair soaked with river water and sweat. "Please, talk to me."
Talking was not one of the directives. Annoyance brushed against the glass wall between Kyou's mind and her emotions. Under normal circumstances, she would simply run, leaving Itama behind as she desperately avoided confronting her one time friend. How, however, Kairi's objectives overruled any affection she might otherwise feel for the boy. She'd promised to fight to the best of her ability, so she dove across the river, her kunai clashing against his with such force that sparks flew between them. He staggered back, barely keeping his footing on the shallow water.
"What? Kyou-kun, what are you doing?"
She pressed on, keeping her body close to his. The Senju were typically taller than the Uchiha, and more lithe in build. Where Kyou stood head and shoulders taller than all the other children in her age group, Itama was only maybe a couple inches shorter than her, looking up into her eyes as she pushed him as hard as Kairi's objectives would let her.
Ah. He was looking into her eyes.
She could feel it, chakra building behind her left eye. The miniscule muscles inside it flexed, doing something her distant emotions were screaming—distantly—for her to stop. She couldn't stop, though. Using her Mangekyou was one of the objectives. Here was a Senju looking her straight in the eye. Ignoring that opportunity would be to break Kairi's rules of operation.
Itama's gaze morphed from confusion to terror, something in her eyes frightening him. Did the Senju know about the Mangekyou? Canon had not prepared her for that possibility.
Canon had prepared her for no possibilities.
Itama's dark eyes glazed over, the light of life fading so quickly she expected him to fall and was vaguely surprised when he didn't. He didn't do anything. He stood atop the shallow water, arms loose at his side, expression blank in a way she'd never seen it. She jumped back and away from him, her kunai raised defensively as she braced for an attack that didn't come. He just stood there.
Kyou turned away from him, Kairi driving her to find another fight to fulfil its objectives. A far away part of her was screaming about something or another, but Kairi held it at bay, the wall between mind and her emotions firmly in place. There was another group of shinobi standing somewhat apart from the main battle and she gathered chakra in her feet in preparation to join the fray only to use it to leap backward as Tobirama's blade sliced through the river where she'd been only seconds before, water splashing upward with the force of the blow.
He turned furious red eyes on her, his gaze on her face but not her eyes. "What did you do?"
The angry demand was certainly justified, but, again, talking was not one of her objectives. She could only raise her own blade in anticipation. He didn't attack her though. Instead, he rushed to his brother's side, taking the shorter boy's face in his hands.
"Itama? Can you hear me? Are you alright?"
Itama said nothing, did nothing, only stood there and accepted his brother's poking and prodding.
Tobirama turned to glare at her again, his teeth bared in an expression more beast than human. "What did you do? He still calls you his friend, and you hurt him like this? Are the Uchiha so cruel? I thought-I thought you were better than them."
What? No. She hadn't hurt him. He was fine. Not a speck of blood on him. She couldn't have hurt him. Kairi's objectives expressly demanded she not hurt any children. Itama was a child. So, she didn't hurt him.
Had she?
The wall damming up her emotions shattered like so much glass, all her panic and fear swelling to fill her brain. She clawed at her throat as she suddenly lost control of her breathing, too shallow breaths starving her mind and body of precious oxygen. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.
Hands. There were hands pulling at her arms, forcing her to let go of her neck. She coughed and sputtered as air filled her lungs, her breaths still coming in short, panting gasps but no longer impeded by her own iron grip.
FUCK.
Higan. That was what she'd used on Itama, her eyes naming themselves again like the freaky, alien abominations they were. Higan and Kairi. Fitting names for such disgusting powers. Her entire body recoiled from them and she bent over, bile pouring from her mouth and into the river, the proof of her upset carried downstream.
FUUUUUUUUCK.
"Kyou, are you alright?"
She looked up at Tobirama. Though his tone was tentative, his expression was still on the edge of angry and Kyou finally just accepted that he just looked Like That™. His hands were wrapped around her wrists, tight grip digging the edges of her vambraces into her skin. She coughed around the sting of vomit in her nose and nodded.
"I'm ok, now, thanks Tobi."
He released her, stepping back. Before he could start asking questions, she jerked her head upstream, away from the battle.
"Grab Itama. If anyone sees him like this, it'll be bad."
He didn't argue, simply slinging his brother over his shoulder and following her as she led the way to an outcropping of rocks that looked weirdly familiar.
"Set him down. I'll see what I can do."
"What exactly is going on, Kyou?" His tone was hard, but not mean or cruel like he sometimes was. "You…You were—."
She held up a hand. "I can't answer that, Tobi. It's a Clan secret, I'm sorry. As much as I want to be able to trust you, so long as your father is the one calling the shots I'm afraid I can't."
His lips thinned but he nodded sharply, accepting their reality for what it was.
"What happened to Itama?"
She drew a shaky breath and forced herself to look at the youngest Senju brother, his blank expression calling up very unpleasant memories. "He looked me in the eye, Tobi. I-there wasn't anything I could do to stop it."
"What is 'it'?"
She could trust him with a little bit, right? She didn't ever want to use that ability again. Ever. Just thinking about it made her want to puke again.
"It's called Higan. It," she hesitated. "Do you remember what I told you about my mother?"
He nodded. "She was sick, right? She couldn't speak or move on her own."
She laughed, the sound raw and wholly unamused. "She wasn't sick. My father—that demon—he used Higan on her. I know he did. After you killed him, she was fine." Tobi stiffened at the mention of her father's death and she managed to muster up a smile for him. "Thanks for that, by the way. It was the best day of my life."
He clearly wasn't sure how to take that, so she kept on before he could respond.
"I don't know how to turn it off, or if it even can be turned off. I've never used it before, Tobi, and I didn't want to, but I promised Tajima I would, if the opportunity arose." She shrugged helplessly. "It's not my fault Ibaka has no sense of self preservation."
If he took offense to the nickname she'd given his brother, he didn't show it. If anything, he seemed to agree with her, sighed heavily with a shake of his head. Then,
"You used it on yourself."
It wasn't a question and Kyou was reminded that Tobirama was one of the greatest sensors, period. He'd probably noticed there was something off about her.
Unable to deny it, she nodded. "Yeah. It's called Kairi when I use it that way. I can't break any promises I make while using it, so when Itama looked me in the eye, I—." She shrugged again, unable to continue past the lump in her throat until she cleared it. "It helps me fight, so I'm not afraid to hurt anyone, you know? It makes life easier back home."
She didn't elaborate on that, but she didn't need to. Tobi knew enough about her circumstances to understand without an explanation.
"Can you free him?"
That was the million dollar question, wasn't it?
Her treacherous eyes were stinging and she resisted the urge to rub them. They deserved all the pain they brought themselves, evil little shits.
"I can try." Ugh, her voice was so small and afraid. "I-I don't know if it will work. My mother didn't wake up until after you killed Satan, so…" She trailed off and somehow found the courage to look at him. Like always, he was looking toward her but not really at her, ever cautious in the presence of a sharingan. "If I fail, you can kill me."
He recoiled as though struck, an actual emotion crossing his face, though still subdued. "What?"
"I mean it, Tobi," she insisted. "I-I didn't want to hurt him. I don't want to hurt anyone, ever again! It's horrible and I hate it! I have to put myself in a chakra induced dissociative state just to fight defensively! If dying can save him from living like my mother did—." Tears spilled over, rolling down her face thick and heavy. "Please, say you'll do it. It wouldn't be the first time." That last bit probably wasn't as comforting as she meant it to be, but it was true. She had died before, in a glorious ball of fire as her motorcycle exploded underneath her. It was probably the only memory of Before she was glad to see fade, and she was sure death by Tobi's blade would be far less painful or lingering.
She stepped up to Itama before his brother could reply to her desperate plea for death. She could vividly remember Higan's activation, the moment carved into her mind for all eternity by an active sharingan. Was it any wonder everyone who had one went crazy? Memories faded for a reason, after all, and having all their trauma kept perpetually fresh by magic mental Tupperware was probably not conducive to a healthy mental state.
A thought occurred to her just as she began calling on her chakra and she turned back to Tobirama.
"You can have my eyes, if you kill me. I wouldn't suggest using them until you're older, though. Uchihas have special chakra networks, so anyone else gets drained super fast. If you want to use them, you'll need way more chakra than you currently have."
He stared at her, dumbfounded, and again she was forced to face the fact that he was just so damnably cute. His pale skin and hair set him apart from literally every other human she'd ever met, in both lives, and a life of intense physical activity had erased any trace of baby fat from his face and body. He didn't look like a twelve year old boy, even though she knew he was one. She was technically many times older than him, with a mind far more matured than her body, but she still looked at him and saw someone worth looking at, someone she'd like to keep looking at, instead of the cute kid her adult mind should be seeing, instead.
It was a little gross, actually, but it wasn't his fault.
"Why would you tell me that?"
It took her a minute to retrace her thoughts back to whatever he was responding to—this was why Kairi was so useful, no tangents! "Ah, well, because I like you." WAIT. "That is-I mean-you-ah, you're smart! And you'll be even smarter with a sharingan?"
Well, fuckity fuck fuck.
She turned back to Itama and prayed to every god who might listen that his older brother hadn't notice the blush rising on her face. She was eternally grateful for the melanin she'd been blessed with, the darker tone of her skin hiding the flush much better than Tobirama's.
She took a big breath and let it out, gathering chakra behind her left eye. Having different abilities in each eye was normal for Mangekyou, right? That's what her memories told her, anyway, though she was starting to think Kishimoto's canon couldn't be trusted, anymore. Her left eye began to sting, her chakra activating the muscles in her iris and doing something. Her vision changed. Only one eye was activated, and the difference in clarity between her right and left was dizzying. She assured herself it was only temporary and dismissed her discomfort.
"Itama, look at me."
He obeyed, dark eyes looking up into hers with neither question nor protest. It made her sick. This was how her mother had lived for so long. Years before Kyou was even conceived, she was a slave to Satan's Higan. Nausea turned her stomach and she forced the rising bile down through sheer force of will.
"I need you to wake up, Itama," the words were thick with an emotion she never wanted to feel again. "Please, wake up."
He held her gaze, unmoving, and for a single heartrending moment she thought it hadn't worked. She was going to die, again, and she wouldn't even get to say goodbye—to Warai, to her mother, to baa-chan.
She hadn't even apologized to baa-chan.
Then, a light came on in his eyes and he stumbled back, his hands coming up to clutch at his head. Tobirama was by his side in an instant, speaking low, comforting words she never imagined she'd hear the legendary ice prince say.
Relief washed over her, weakening her knees and threatening to knock her over. She couldn't let it, though. She couldn't stand to be there, an interloper in their brotherly bonding moment, for even one more second. She turned away, her limbs moving as though on puppet strings, her control distant and mistranslated.
"Kyou!"
She ran. She wasn't too ashamed to admit it. She ran away from Tobi's voice and Itama's sobs and the horrible fact that she really was her father's daughter and her itching eyes that insisted on defiling the sanctity of her mind by naming themselves and using themselves and—.
"Kyou? What are you doing?"
She stopped, her uncle's sharp tone freezing her in her tracks. She turned to look up at him and something in her expression softened the anger in his blood spattered expression. The battle was over, she realized dimly. Both Senju and Uchiha were collecting their dead and injured, the solemn task enough to inspire a temporary truce.
"Please." Again, her voice was small, weak, little more than a desperate whisper. "Please, don't ask me to use it again. Please."
His lips thinned, sharingan eyes looking her over with a calculative edge. He stepped forward, his sandal sinking into the blood soaked soil. His large hand came to rest on her head, blood gluing the black strands to his armored glove.
"Alright, Kyou. I won't."
It was a lie. She knew it was. But she took it and held it to her heart as she cried, rubbing at itching eyes that demanded to be used, no matter how wretched their abilities. Tajima's hand lingered only for a moment before the weight left her head and he walked away, leaving Kyou to cry alone in the mud.
痺玩= Higan = Numb + Toy
解離= Kairi= Dissociation
Higan separates the victim's mind from their body, rendering them unable to control their own movements. They are still conscious, aware of everything done to and around them, but they cannot interact with the world on their own. Once used, its effects will remain even if the sharingan is deactivated and it can only be undone by using the Higan a second time. Shuji, the scumlord, used it on Kyou's mother to keep her under his control. Kyou has it in her left eye.
Kairi is similar, but not the same. It allows the user to 'step back', if you will, and enter a dissociative state wherein their emotions no longer affect them. This can be dangerous, as the user will no longer react in ways they normally would, but this can be mitigated by setting strict parameters before activation. Kyou uses it to push aside her qualms about violence, but enforces her 'only in self-defense' rule to keep it from getting out of hand. Kyou has it in her right eye.
I figured these abilities weren't too weird for a sharingan to have, since the Tsukiyomi can mess with your perception of time and Ametarasu generates magic fire. ╮(￣ω￣;)╭ They fall under genjutsu, I think, and I imagine Kairi (and maybe Higan, who knows, not me, lol) would be classified similarly to Madara's Izanagi, which he used on himself to rewrite his own friggin' death! So, y'know, Kyou's not that op. Ehe.