go check out ch3 and 4, i rewrote 'em. 'orphanage - i' and 'orphanage - ii'
The Academy — V
This world averaged one major war per generation with a death toll of one Hokage per war. Sure, we lost the Shodaime and Nidaime in the First Shinobi War and Third was still breathing, but here we were on the brink of a world war take 3, so the math checked out.
I couldn't find a population census in the stacks here so I didn't have the numbers, but I'll bet my hair it wasn't pretty. If the severity of the wars demanded one strongest shinobi of the village per war, it wasn't encouraging to be a foot soldier.
What did shinobi have to fight about, anyway? The traditional motivation for hostilities was resources: so what's the resource a military village needs above all else? People. But that was the whole reason Shodaime Senju Hashirama made villages in the first place— so the children won't have to go to war anymore. That was the official story, anyway. It made sense too, from a resources standpoint. If I let myself mix metaphors, the formation of villages ensures the maturation of a larger crop of shinobi, leading to a fuller rank of shinobi, leading to a stronger village. A strong fighting force went hand-in-hand with prosperity, because — if I'm not mistaken; I very well could be — a hidden village's main income was the commissioned missions, and those only came if the daimyō believed in your strength.
So why fight? Other motivators would (traditionally) be land, but that was only if the belligerent parties needed land, and, once again, hidden villages are not political entities in themselves. We are representatives.
Unless, of course, we fought proxy wars, but… How to put this. The Fire daimyō wasn't exactly a revered figure within the village nor was our service to the daimyō seat emphasized in civics class, so I did not see how anyone would gladly lay down their life in that way. I could be wrong, but it was unlikely.
Why fight?
The lull in my thoughts brought me back to my surroundings: the dingy reference room in the top floor of the Academy. Outside the single, small window was a sunny day, and the sound of children playing in the courtyard drifted up. I glanced at the clock. Ten minutes left until class started again.
Just two years … if I didn't watch myself, they'd pass in the blink of an eye.
Several maps were spread out on the table, the unsatisfactory results of an exhaustive search. I grabbed the nearest one to start rolling it up. I needed a better library.
All the world maps I had been able to find were educational maps with the borders simplified and highlighted in bright ink. One was during the first war, one for the second, and one current one. The reference room had more on Leaf village stuff, clan territories and the like, but I wasn't interested in them. Yet.
The lack of information compounded with my lack of direction. No one was going to just write down the reasons for fighting a war. It was never that convenient, not to mention it was a stupid security risk. I began the week with the intention of mapping current hostilities, but the past is not indicative of the future, or even the present. I had found nothing helpful. I needed a better library.
The history texts were worryingly thin anyway. I eyed the stack of them distastefully. Maybe there would be encyclopedias in the Hatake compound.
There was, of course, the option of going to the adults, and call me paranoid, but how exactly was I supposed to phrase the question? "Excuse me please give me all your state secrets"? Forget it.
"Hatake Haiko-chan?" someone said behind me, and I knocked my hip into the child-height table in surprise. Dropping the map in my hands to clutch at my side, I hobbled around on the spot to find two older girls staring at me from between the shelves.
The one in the lead was wearing a blue shirt with a collar so high and wide that it almost covered her mouth. Her long ponytail swung behind her as she advanced towards my table, dark eyes bright with curiosity.
Gasping from the sting, I said, "Who're you?"
She ignored me, breezing right past to lay out the maps flat again.
I looked to the second girl for answers. She was in dark green overalls and twin braids, face set in an unreadable expression, and followed her friend inside the room. She glanced me over as she passed, silent.
Well, if they weren't going to say anything, I've got a class to get to. They can clean up here.
I'd only taken one step before the second girl put a hand in front of me so quickly the motion was a blur.
I scowled. The second girl was taller than the first. It had been hard to tell when they were in the doorway. She retracted her arm and folded them in front of herself, all mature-like, then said, jerking a thumb at her chest, "Nara Saeki." She pointed a thumb at her friend, who'd moved on to flipping through the history texts. By her expression, she found it about as engaging as I did. "Uchiha Ririchi."
"Pleasure," I said, into the expectant silence, then tried to leave.
Nara grabbed me by the shoulder. "You're the Hatake girl, aren't you?"
Rude. I raised an eyebrow in lieu of asking where her manners were.
She peered at my face for a second, then let go. "Yeah. No one else has that weird clan marking."
That threw me for a loop. What was she talking about?
She glanced at the materials I'd gathered again. "Is it true you and Kakashi are graduating this year?"
Okay, first of all, she did not add a honorific to Kakashi's name, which was extra rude. Second of all—
"Ask him," I said.
The Uchiha glanced up. "I heard Yōko-sama say if you and Kakashi-kun graduate this year, you'll be the youngest to ever graduate from the Academy."
I shrugged with one shoulder, as non-committal as I could make it. "Sure."
The girls glanced at each other, and I took that moment to catalogue them. Uchiha: that explained the dark eyes and hair and pale skin. Nara: I wonder what she makes of my reading material? They had the height of fifth-year graduates, which made them a significant six years older than me.
They had a whole conversation in silence. Then Uchiha Ririchi asked, "Why are you reading these instead of training like your brother?"
That was too open a question, too easy to be lied to, and not a good conversation opener. I had a prepared answer ready for just the occasion and gave it: "The class was interesting and I wanted to know more."
Ririchi looked hurt. Nara Saeki snorted. "Try again."
"The class didn't tell me enough, and I wanted to know more," I said, instantly.
"That was as bad as last time, Hatake," she said, unimpressed.
"And if you don't get to the point soon, I'll be late for class," I said, with a nod towards the clock.
"Okay, okay, whoa," Ririchi said, stepping between us with raised hands. "Saeki-chan, you have to be nicer. We're trying to make friends, remember?"
Saeki huffed and rolled her shoulders. "Fine."
"Let's try again," said Ririchi. She smiled at me, sunny and too-bright for the stuffy room. "I'm Uchiha Ririchi, and this is my prickly best friend Nara Saeki. We're really impressed with how smart you are!" She must've caught my skepticism, because she added, "Really, we are! Saeki's mum and dad both think so too."
Good to know the parents gossip. "That's nice," I said. "So?"
"So…" Ririchi dragged out the sound playfully, then pointed at the table. "You must be frustrated with the Academy's books, right? There's basically nothing there that's not covered by the instructors."
I know bait when I see it. I glanced at the clock again, and weighed the benefits of waiting for her pitch against facing off the instructor's disapproval. "Go on," I said.
"The Uchiha archives have records dating back to the Warring Clans era," Ririchi said, and wow, talk about bait. "Whatever you're looking for, I'm sure we have something that'll help."
"That's very generous, senpai," I said. "What do you want in return?"
Ririchi blinked at me for a second, then grinned, quick and sharp. "I knew you weren't just book-smart."
"That's nice," I repeated, deadpan. "What do you want."
"The offer's real," said Ririchi. "And I'm not buying you off. If you don't agree to my request, you're still welcome to use the Uchiha archives." She paused to gauge my reaction, and when I didn't move, she continued. "See, Saeki and I are graduating next spring, and Yōko-sama promised to put the students I chose on my team, if she approved my picks. I picked Saeki-chan, she gave the OK, and I want you on my team, if you are graduating this year."
I looked at the Nara girl, half-expecting this to be a joke. But Saeki just raised an eyebrow when she met my gaze. "You… want me on your genin team." I didn't bother keeping the incredulity from my voice.
Ririchi nodded.
"Me," I emphasized. "A kid. A child. An infant."
Ririchi opened her mouth to respond, but Saeki took a step forwards and used her height to loom over me. "Knock it off with the innocent kid act. It might work on the adults, but you're not fooling me." She swept a hand towards the table. "You're smarter and quicker than you let on. Your brother is the flashy one, but you've kept up with him no problem. You think you're the first kid to invent the whole 'scraped a pass' act? Don't joke with me. We Nara have been playing it way before you. Riri here might care about nabbing you in her little recruitment drive, but I'm more interested in why you're doing extra reading for World History 101."
I felt my temper rising and fought to keep my body language calm. She was just a kid, and she wasn't my enemy. This would be nothing more than someone calling out bullshit when they saw it if I played it right. Besides …
"I'm genuinely interested," I said, as levelly as I could. "Why, is there something I shouldn't find out?"
If she was Nara, she might've overheard something — anything — at home.
Saeki narrowed her eyes at me. "Nothing. But forgive me for being suspicious when some kid shows up from nowhere, joins the Academy, and shoots through the years right beside a known genius."
Ririchi was looking worried now. Clearly, they came here with a game plan, and Saeki was going off-script. She was also getting uncomfortably personal. "What's it to you?" I said.
"Shikaku-nii dealt with some troublemakers when he came over to school that time. That was you, wasn't it? Why did you ditch the tour?"
"It was boring."
"So you went poking around the jōnin offices?"
"I was looking for the roof," I protested, alarmed. This was turning into an interrogation.
"I don't believe you," said Saeki, short and sharp and unforgiving. I almost stepped back at the tone. "You're up to something. You've been here half a year and almost no one knows your face. You never pay attention in class. You spend all your time in here. What's so interesting here? Why are you reading up on Hidden Leaf's history?"
It hit me, suddenly. "Nara-san, do you think I'm a foreign spy?" My voice cracked on the last word, and the situation suddenly seemed hilarious in the extreme. Me, a spy.
Saeki glared at me and Ririchi stared between us, shocked. "For who?" I said, too high and too nervous. What the fuck?
"Anyone that's not us," Saeki replied instantly.
"Why would you think that?"
"That mark on your face."
This time I did laugh, ugly and short. "Oh, you don't want to know what the seal is for."
Her eyes glinted at the word 'seal'. "You don't know, or you won't tell us?"
"What, you don't trust the adults in your life?" I snapped back. "They put me here and they gave me my name and my seal, it's not my damned problem if they don't tell you shit."
Saeki bristled like an angry cat and opened her mouth to bite out what would no doubt be another cutting, insulting remark, but Ririchi put a hand on Saeki's shoulder and said to me, intense and quiet, "That was you, at the funeral, in June. Wasn't it?"
The mention of the funeral slammed me into a sense memory: the bright, unforgiving sunlight; the claustrophobic cemetery and its messy gravestones, tucked in between buildings; the silent gathering of people, towering over my small stature; the open, gaping darkness of the grave; the smell of grass and freshly-turned earth. Rain, pattering on an umbrella at daybreak.
I blinked back tears and didn't say anything. Did that make Uchiha Ririchi the girl I saw? Would make the two adults with her also Uchiha, then?
"You were allowed to go?" Saeki was asking. Surprise made her sound more her age. Then, with dawning realization, "That's why you insisted on—" She pressed her lips together, looking back at me.
"Insisted on what," I said, and was proud my voice did not betray the lump in my throat. I didn't look at the clock. I was no longer sure I wanted to stay in school for the rest of the day.
"I didn't even know you knew about the funeral," Ririchi said. "It was at the other cemetery. Yōko-sama told me …" She glanced at me, inexplicably nervous. "Well, you know."
"Kind of hard to miss someone wearing funeral colors in your house, Riri."
Was this another fucking secret? And what did she mean, the other cemetery?
I made a wild guess. "This Yōko-sama you keep naming. She was the lady with you that day?"
Ririchi nodded, biting her lip.
"Who was the man?"
"I'm not sure—" Ririchi began, only for Saeki to talk over her. "Uchiha Fugaku. Yōko-sama's ward. Uchiha clan heir. You're related to a traitor?"
"Excuse me?" I said. Demanded, really. A part of me was tearing at the bit; was I finally going to get some answers? But another part was backtracking, fast. Saeki's eyes had gone hard, flint-like. I replayed the last beat of the conversation and felt a swooping sensation, like the floor had dropped out from my feet.
"Saeki!" Ririchi pulled on her friend's shoulder, roughly, because Saeki had spun on her heel towards the door. "I swear to the First— will you stop for a second and listen? If you'd just told me about this I could've explained it all to you in private and—"
Was Saeki talking about my mother or my father? Probably Senko, since Jiraiya also called her a deserter. Besides, I'd never heard even a whisper about my father from anyone, and even Senko herself had dismissed him as unimportant in the letter. Was I thinking about this to stop from panicking? Yes.
"—even the Third knows about it!" Ririchi shouted, and I snapped back to the situation. Saeki had frozen, too.
"Even the Third?" she repeated, dubiously.
"Yes!" Ririchi said, exasperated, and dropped her arm now that Saeki wasn't going to bolt. "I overheard Yōko-sama and Fugaku-sama talking. When you adopt someone into a clan, you have to go through the Hokage. Don't you think he would've taken precautions? And the seal— that's Orochimaru-sama and Jiraiya-sama's sealwork. If you'd just told me about this I could've—"
"How did you know?" I asked, then covered my mouth. It hadn't been a conscious question.
Ririchi looked older beyond her years, suddenly. "Well, I guessed. A few months back, Yōko-sama suddenly had all the kids re-read about some old, dead, nameless clan from the Warring Clan era that had a rare dōjutsu, and that was the same time as the funeral. It mentioned that the clan was subsumed into the Uzumaki clan, that the bloodline limit was controlled by sealwork. We don't have an Uzumaki sealmaster anymore, except two of the Sannin. Then, I saw you." She tapped her left eye and shrugged, tiredly. "Along with the Sannin. It wasn't hard to put two and two together."
Too many things were swirling in my head, but the clearest thought was: so that's why she wanted me on her genin team.
Ririchi shoved Saeki's shoulder, but in the mock-antagonistic way friends did. "You could've just talked to me. No need to scare her. Now she'll never want to be friends with us. Who do I ask to be the last teammate now? Kakashi? Please."
Saeki was staring intensely at the floor. I watched her warily.
"Alright, I was wrong about you," she finally said, and raised her head. "But it doesn't explain why you're so interested in history."
I exhaled sharply. At least she didn't look like she was going to throw me out a window now.
"Maybe she just wanted to know more about her history!" Ririchi said, even more exasperated.
"If that's what she was interested in, she would be in the clan history section, not world history."
Ririchi put a hand over her face and took deep, measured breaths.
"I really am just interested in it, Nara-san," I said, then tried to find something that'll convince her and lower that skeptical eyebrow. "I just— I'm worried, alright? Why is the school encouraging Kakashi to go through the curriculum so fast? Why are they so eager for a kid to join the standing forces? That's not normal. Hidden Leaf has participated in two wars up to now and paid two Kage for them. I mean, the whole point of having a school was so that we won't have to send kids into a war zone like the Warring Clan days anymore, isn't it?"
Immediately, I could tell I've struck at something. Ririchi had screwed up her nose, and Saeki's head was tilted to the side like a bird. "So— so." I nodded towards the disappointing stack on the table. "That's why."
And they took me in, I didn't add. Why'd they let me live, if I was the daughter of a traitor? It can't have all been because of goodwill from the Sannin.
Ririchi was looking at Saeki with her arms crossed like there. how's that. and Saeki was staring at me with a calculating look.
"You can call me Saeki," she said. It was such a non-sequitur that I did double-take. "Don't look so spooked, Hatake. When you say the truth, people believe you."
"Call me Haiko, then," I replied, haltingly. "I'm still not used to that last name, anyway."
"What did it used to be?" Ririchi asked, trying for soothing and landing in embarrassed.
I shook my head, once. "Didn't have one."
Her mouth formed a silent 'oh' and she wrapped her hands around her elbows. Saeki looked similarly subdued.
I finally glanced at the clock. Oh, yikes.
Ririchi followed my gaze and grimaced. "Sorry about that. I really hadn't planned to— that is, sorry. I really only wanted to ask… It's a no, I take it, for my offer?" She still looked hopeful.
I shook my head again, then decided to throw her a bone. "You should ask Kakashi. I think he's serious about graduating."
If Uchiha Yōko really had the sway to appoint genin teams, then they'd make a good match for Kakashi. Within the short time they'd been here, they'd made an astonishing ruckus.
I entertained the vague curiosity of what'd happened the first time round, if I hadn't been dropped unceremoniously into this world. What had Kakashi done before he got assigned to Team Minato? Gone solo?
Whatever.
Right now, I needed space to sort out the mess in my head.
"We're gonna … go for class." Ririchi took a step towards the doorway but her body was still angled at me. Saeki was already several steps away. "Are you … going back to yours?"
"No," I said.
"Oh," she said, awkwardly. "Well … see you around?"
I nodded, and fixed my gaze on the window as their footsteps faded. Then I went out the window. Sakumo had promised to teach Kakashi and I the trick to walking on non-horizontal surfaces the last time he was home, but that was two weeks ago and he hasn't had time yet. I didn't need that here, though— the piping and tiling on the Academy's outside walls were uneven enough for a determined kid to find footholds down to the metal walkways. From there, I found an unlocked door to the second floor, then snuck through the quiet hallways, taking care to avoid the hall-facing windows. Down more stairs, out a side door, and after picking the right tree, it was over the wall and into the village. Home free.
I didn't go home, though. I went towards the mountain with the faces of our military leaders carved into them. Scaling it took some time (and a lot of stairs) but the view from the top was worth it, even if the sun got into my eyes.
It was woods and some training grounds from here on out, and not a soul. It was an afternoon on a weekday, after all, and anyone respectable was at their jobs or in school.
I found a shaded spot under a tree and rested there. The sky through the branches was as blue as the first time I saw it.
Sunset painted the sky in sprays of gold. Several things had crystalized in my mind:
1. My mother was a traitor. She abandoned the village. The adults knew this. They took me in anyway. What were the measures they took to make sure I didn't follow my mother's footsteps? Was the seal one of them? If so, why did my mother keep hers?
2. Somewhere in this village, records existed of my clan's history. Known clan affiliations: Uzumaki and Uchiha. Sealwork was apparently central to keeping the Ryokgan under control, but that begs the question: was there a native way to control it? I didn't want to look too hard at the word Ririchi had used— 'subsumed'. I'll deal with those implications when I come to it.
3. It was more profitable to be friends with Ririchi and Saeki than strangers, because they sat at tables with more information than I did, and if I played my cards right I can get some of that information.
4. If I didn't go home soon, Kakashi was going to kill me.
He was waiting for me — no sign of Sakumo — seated under the lantern at the front gate, reading a book.
I say 'waiting', because when I stepped into the pool of light, he snapped the book closed and stood up. "Why didn't you show up to afternoon classes?"
For whatever strange reason, his attitude threw me off. It was a struggle to meet his gaze, and even then I had to break it to reply. "Was bored."
"Really?" he asked, simply.
Flustered, I hurried past him. "Yeah, well, you know how I'm like."
"No, actually," he said, following me. "I don't know how you're like."
He can be calm and collected all he liked, I wasn't going to tell him—
"A couple of seniors cornered me after school today," he continued, and I almost tripped in the genkan. "I didn't know you had friends."
"Wow," I said, making it as sarcastic as possible, and kicked off my shoes.
"You've been telling people I'm aiming to graduate the Academy after one year?" He didn't move.
"That wasn't what I said," I said.
"So what did you say?"
"Was I wrong?"
He fell silent and just looked at me. "What?" I said, defensive.
"You've decided, then?" he said, apropos of nothing.
"Decided…?"
"To not graduate. To not be a shinobi. I don't know, you tell me."
I looked at him, then at the dark and empty house beyond the corridor, then back to him, still standing in the genkan with his shoes on. "Really? We're going to talk about this, here?"
"We can move to the kitchen, if you'd like," he said, faux-gracious, and nodded down the hall. "Tamaki-san dropped off our dinner earlier."
I stared at him, unsure if he was pulling a fast one or being serious.
"Also," he added, and I braced for impact. "Didn't you promise me no more bullshit?"
I winced.
I heard him sigh, then the sounds of shoes being slotted into the cabinet, and when he went past me to switch on the light for the kitchen, I followed.
The silence got heavy, fast. "Who's Tamaki?" I tried, after I saw the two cartons of fried rice with eggs on the table.
"Some guy," Kakashi replied, drying his hands with the dishtowel. "He came by in the evening to make sure we hadn't killed each other." He glanced at me. "You know. The usual."
"Grim," I said, and cracked open a box. The smell of fried food and eggs hit me like a slap to the face. Hunger gnawed at my insides, and I remembered I hadn't had lunch — I'd skipped it to read. The afternoon hadn't left space for hunger in my immediate concern. I reached for a spoon, then paused. "Are you going to hold the food hostage until we've talked?"
Kakashi looked at me like I'd just insulted his family. "No. What?"
"Pretend I didn't say anything," I said, hurriedly.
He graciously let it slide.
Dinner wasn't as awkward as it could've been, mostly because Kakashi pulled out the book while eating. By the looks of its spine, it was a textbook. When we were done, I collected the empty cartons and cleaned the table while Kakashi washed the utensils, and then it was Talking Time.
I decided to bite the bullet. "Those seniors… what did they say?"
"First of all, they weren't exactly seniors," Kakashi said. "You know Uchiha Takumi?"
I shook my head.
"Pay attention to roll call," he said. "Uchiha Takumi is in our taijutsu class but he's older. He and his cousin asked to train with me today, because I'm apparently graduating. Therefore I must be training for the graduation test and know what I'm doing, never mind that I just learned the clone technique today, which is on the graduation test."
Another Uchiha. "What was the cousin's name and year?"
"Uchiha Ririchi, year five. She's the one who's actually graduating."
There we go. "And what did you say?"
"I agreed, of course." He frowned at me. "You don't turn down an opportunity to spar with an Uchiha. Their clan training systematically introduces them to every weapon under the sun, and they are trained in both lethal and non-lethal force by the members of the police force, no matter if they're cadets or not."
"Fascinating," I said, carefully. "They offered to teach you too, was it?"
"We didn't get to that part," he said. "I asked them why they'd want to train with me, and you know what Uchiha-san said?"
I'd caught on to the edge in his voice. I shook my head. No way was I going to interrupt now. Maybe if I played his game he would be less angry with me when this was over.
"She said I didn't have to play down my skills, it's fine, she understood that I was drawing enough attention as is and will keep my secret," —his eyes flashed dangerously— "so I can just be myself. Which, I'm guessing, meant she expected me to be more skilled than I actually am."
After a period of pointed silence, I said, "I don't get it."
Kakashi sighed, but this time it was a sound of frustration. "Did any of that sound familiar to you?"
I opened my mouth to say no, it did not, then it all clicked into place. Bastard! And— Ririchi's projecting was almost funny.
"Clearly, she's spoken to you," Kakashi said, droll. "And saw through your bullshit."
"Hey it only took you a few weeks, you don't get to be smug about it," I shot back, but there wasn't much force behind it.
"The curious thing is," Kakashi started, and made a show of putting down his book. "The way she phrased my graduating, it was almost as if she got it from someone who said they weren't going to graduate. As if it was just me."
I sat back. We had a five-second stare off. Then I said, "Is she wrong?"
"I don't know. Is she?"
"You are aiming to graduate. Anyone with a brain can guess that."
"Anyone with a brain would also guess that you are aiming to graduate, but it appears they'd be wrong." He cocked an eyebrow as if to say, two can play this game.
Gods above. Was this my fault? He certainly wasn't this argumentative when we first entered the Academy half a year ago.
It was my turn to sigh. "Okay, let's clear some assumptions."
He folded his arms and waited.
"First of all, 'not graduating' does not mean 'not graduating, ever'. Second, graduating does not equal becoming a shinobi. It means becoming a genin, and that's it." I left a pause, because I knew the point Kakashi was going to raise, and sure enough, he did.
"A genin is a shinobi. We've been over this."
"We have not, so, we're going over it now." I had to raise my voice to talk over him. "There are still exams for advancing from genin to chūnin, and from chūnin to jōnin. Someone can drop out at any time along that path. Change their mind. And while we're at it, people can change their minds about other things too." I waited.
"You've changed your mind about becoming a shinobi?" Kakashi asked, and didn't sound happy about the hand-holding.
Here we go. I swallowed every paranoid thought I've ever had and said, "I've given it some thought. I figure it'd be easier to get the information I want if I play— if I become a shinobi."
"Play their game," Kakashi said, completing the metaphor I hadn't wanted to use. He tapped a finger against his sides, arms still crossed. "But, slower."
"That's one way to phrase it," I said.
"If it's information you're after, though," he began. "Why not just become a genin?"
I took a second to think, then said, "You're suggesting I hurry things along?"
He nodded. "Do it at your pace, not theirs."
"That's a viable route, sure," I admitted. "It might get Orochimaru and Jiraiya telling me more stuff about this," — I tapped the seal on my face; he scowled at my lack of honorifics — "but the commitment is too high. A genin gets sent out on missions. Those take up time I could be using to study sealing, or training, or anything else."
I could see Kakashi thinking about it, following my train of thought. "Does your bloodline have a name?"
"Ryokugan," I said, and tried to ignore the the spike of anxiety that accompanied giving away a secret. It wasn't even a secret, not really, not to the people who really mattered — Ririchi had implied, however tangentially, that the clan heads were aware of who I am, where I came from, and the potential of my kekkei genkai. They already knew. It was exceedingly likely that they christened the bloodline.
Kakashi's gaze drifted to my left. "Why green?"
"Not sure," I lied. If I told him, not only would the explanation take too long, he might ask for a demonstration, and then I'd really be in trouble.
It still made his expression change. "That's one of the things you want to find out, then."
"It's on the list," I replied.
"You not graduating next spring will… help tick things off the list?"
"Some of them," I said, then at the twitch of irritation across his face reminded myself to explain. "One of which is figuring out my clan history." That was as close to the truth as I could manage.
"You have something to go on?" he asked.
"Just about," I said, then stopped, because I had no idea how to tell him about the link to the Uzumaki without also explaining what happened in the reference room.
He waited the two seconds for it to become clear that I wasn't going to elaborate, then rested his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands. It was a very adult action. It was jarring, despite the fact that we've been having a pretty high-level conversation. Physicality hits harder, apparently.
"I'm sorry I'm being so—" I stopped. Changed tracks. "I'll keep you updated on what I find. If I find anything."
He peered at me from between his fingers. "You'd better."
"And you're sure there's nothing I can say to make you take another year at the Academy?" I tried. Either way, he wasn't going to get much of a childhood, what with the looming parental suicide.
Kakashi — four years old and already frowning too much — lowered his arms to the table. "No."
"Okay," I said.
There was silence for a while, blessedly non-awkward, and then he burst out, "I still don't get it. What's there to do in the Academy? You still have to go to class and do the homework, it's the same as being a genin! There'd be more work, even, because you can just let your jōnin instructor know you've got training to do, and they'll arrange something for you!"
That'd be the usual, yeah, if there wasn't a war on the horizon. I tried to think of another explanation. "That's all true, I'm sure, but the focus of a genin's life should be — rightfully, since it's their life on the damned line if they start slacking — should be on their fighting skills. Taijutsu, ninjutsu, genjutsu, the big three. You'll get less time on the other stuff."
"What other stuff?" It could easily have been dismissive, but I could tell it wasn't. Kakashi genuinely couldn't imagine anything else.
I tried to make a mental list of all the non-shinobi things on my radar and failed. There were so much. First of all I needed some time to try and recall as much of the old world as I could. Catalogue what I remembered for certain, what I was fifty-fifty about, and what I did not know. Separate all those into things I could influence, things I couldn't, and map the steps needed to turn the latter into the former. Then I needed to figure out what was new with the addition of me. This I already had a lead on: there was some clan history with Uchiha and Uzumaki, not to mention a treasonous backstory for my mother.
"Personal stuff," I said, after a protracted silence. When all Kakashi did was look at me like I'd spoken French (hon hon, bonjour), I tried to explain. "Everyone here knows where they come from. They're a villager of the Hidden Village in the Leaves. They're a citizen of Fire Country. Even if they don't have parents, they know where they are. I don't even know which country I was born in, Kakashi. I could be from Grass or River just as easily as I could be from the borders of Fire, and shouldn't I at least know that much for certain?" I pushed away the emotion that rose, unbidden. "I really doubt there'll be time for that in the shinobi force."
He was looking at me strange again, like he didn't know me. Or was reconsidering what he knew about me.
"Alright," he said. "So you're going to stay in the Academy for … how long?"
"Two years," I said quickly, glad to be able to give a straight answer.
He drew a breath, paused, and released it, staring at the table. No doubt he was going to ask why I was so certain, remembered my tendency to give sideways answers, and decided he didn't want to suffer through another round of my bullshit.
"Next time," he said, "can you let me know these things before other people surprise me with it?"
"Of course," I said.
"Thanks. So, why did you skip class today, and should I expect more of that in the future?"
My first thought was no, and then yes, and then I gave up on a straight forward answer and said, "It depends. I'll try to keep it to a minimum, but no promises." That should be my tagline: no promises.
He sighed and put his head down on the table. "Are you going to tell me why you skipped class or not?" His voice came out muffled.
"I had to deal with something." The second those words left my mouth I knew they weren't enough. Before his shoulders could slump further, I gritted my teeth and told him, "I found out my mother was a traitor and a deserter but I don't know why she did it, so I had to take some time off. You understand."
He sat up so fast he almost fell out of his seat. "What?"
"Yeah, that's literally all I know, so there's nothing else I can tell you." Then I added, "I actually don't even know if it was my mother. It's probably her, but I'd like to point out I've heard nobody mention my father at all, so I have very little reason to suspect him."
Kakashi gaped at me. I was starting to feel like a circus animal.
"You see now why I can never give a straight answer," I said, and drummed my fingers against the table.
"Do you at least know her name?" he asked, after a beat.
"Senko," I said. "Sen, like spring. A body of water, not a season."
He nodded, so at least that made sense.
"We done?" I asked, drily, because this talk was bringing up the hollowed-out, directionless memories of my time at the orphanage, and I did not like to go there.
"Sure," he said, after a long exhale. "Yeah. Er, should I be worried?"
"What about?"
"If your mother was …" he trailed off, gaze darting everywhere but at me.
"Sakumo-sama knows full well my history," I said, and this time I couldn't keep the dry quality from turning bitter. "As does the Sannin and most of the clan heads. They were even at the funeral."
Kakashi shoved back from the table. His chair went screeching across the tiles. "Goodnight."
I waved him away. He bolted out of the kitchen. It was funny, in a gallows humor sort of way. He was the one who wanted me to tell him what was going on in my brain. Well, that's the sort of thing that sets up shop. I'd run away too, if I could.
Over the next few days, I did my best to avoid anyone with the Uchiha clan emblem. I didn't want to be cornered like that again, so I stuck with Kakashi through the breaks (he gave me weird looks but stopped after Day Two) and didn't stay in school when classes ended.
Hunting down the village library took me another two days, even with directions from Yuzu-sensei, the history instructor. When I found it, it was a dusty, cramped, two-storey building with creaky floorboards and not enough windows. It was a fantastic hiding place. The librarian was a hunched up, grey-haired lady with glasses so thick and heavy she had to push it up her nose every few minutes. She lifted her head from her knitting when I went past the front desk but otherwise didn't bother me.
The library had significantly more information on the world at large and the children's shelves had hilariously on brand titles like 100 Facts About Cats! and Learn All About Plants! but the shelves relevant for me — the Local and the Foreign — had very little specific information about shinobi, which upon some reflection made sense: the library was public, and making sensitive information public was dumb. What it had available was lists and quick histories of clans and village-formation, which was more informative than the watered-down versions in the Academy. For example, I didn't know Hidden Leaf had had five noble clans. The Senju had been a noble clan as well, until Senju Tsunade, after making jōnin, took the clan off the list. Her reasoning was not documented.
So I didn't have much luck on that front. I did, however, find an encyclopedia aimed at civilian children joining the Academy. It was battered and sport pages warped from water damage, but a brief look in the table of contents told me I'd found something good. Clan standing, ninja bureaucracy, expected working hours and salary… huh. Flipping through, the confident tone was suspicious, but the glossary contained names of war heroes and locations of significant battles, so, I borrowed it.
It was raining, the sort of downpour that reduced the world beyond your windows to fuzzy greyness. It'd been going for the better part of the day. Having been robbed of their outdoor lunch and recess, the class was restless. Ikue-sensei had left the us to our own devices to prepare the dōjō for class since the courtyard was unusable, and the students were practically bouncing off the walls.
Kakashi was making his way through the shinobi handbook I borrowed at a steady pace, nodding every other page. Approval? Agreement? I whiled away a few minutes puzzling over it, until somebody said loudly—
"—bet today's going to be sparring." The boy who spoke was holding some sort of court, kids gathered around his seat. Upon closer inspection, I realized his features resembled Ririchi's. Dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin, and a confident set to his shoulders. "I mean, if they don't, we might go feral." He swept an arm around the classroom to accentuate his point, and the kids around him quickly voiced their support.
"I hope they let us go freestyle," said another boy, who was chewing on a toothpick. It bobbed when he spoke.
"I hope they let us choose our partners," said the first boy, and he glanced at us.
Kakashi and I were halfway across the room and for all intents and purposes not part of that conversation, which the only reason I didn't look away in time. When I met his gaze, I froze. Was that— were his eyes red, or was it the light?
"That's Uchiha Takumi," Kakashi supplied, unhelpfully. "I told you to pay more attention."
"What's wrong with his eyes?" I said.
Kakashi looked over, but Takumi had turned around to reply to something, and his eyes were black. "Wouldn't surprise me if he had awakened the Sharingan. Says right here, it is common for Uchiha children to awaken their powerful dōjutsu during their childhood for they are a clan of geniuses."
"What?"
Kakashi was pointing at a passage in the book. I saw Uchiha and bloodline limit in big print and knew it was exactly the sort of thing the narrator would say. The narrator didn't have a lot of confidence in clanless shinobi.
"That's a load of crap," I said, and made a grab for the book.
Kakashi held it out of reach and flipped to a new page. "It also says here, due to their background, clanless shinobi-hopefuls must spend as much of their time training as possible, although actually catching up is only possible for the most hardworking amongst them."
"The author clearly has an inferiority complex," I said, sitting back. If I had a wider vocabulary, I'd have said something much dirtier.
"This book is useless," was Kakashi's verdict, then the classroom door rolled open.
"Alright, boys and girls, line up!" Ikue clapped her hands together. There was the sound of scraping chairs and running feet. "Nice and orderly! Hirano-san, watch your feet!"
It wasn't quite a sparring class, in the end. It was controlled kumite, drill-like exercises that trained a specific move set until it was settled into muscle memory. We did get to pick our partners, though. Ikue just said "pair up", and there was a flurry of movement.
Takumi paired up with someone called Shiranui Genma, the boy with the toothpick from earlier. Ikue announced their names when Takumi volunteered himself and Shiranui for the demonstration. It was a good demonstration. Shiranui didn't look too jazzed at being volunteered, but he did a respectable job. I probably wouldn't have been able to do that good a job.
Then we stayed in the dōjō for anatomy class, and I stewed in the inescapable specter of my own inadequacies.
It was still raining when classes wrapped. The day-long soak had turned the courtyard into a mire of mud, and visibility remained abysmal. The younger classes finished earlier than us, but there were still a few stragglers from them milling around the entrance of the school, waiting for their parents. Some kids waited at the door, some waited in the empty class rooms. The oldest kids, the fifth-years, some of them shook out umbrellas and braved the weather to leave on their own.
I had left the decision up to Kakashi, and he wanted to wait until the rain lessened before going home, so I went to tell our instructor while he sat down in a classroom with entrance-facing windows and took out his homework. A nod and a "take care" later I settled down beside him, people-watching.
Making out faces from the rain-warped window view was difficult, so I didn't bother trying to spot anyone.
A steady stream of adults, rain-soaked and mud-splattered, trailed in and out of the entrance. Some of them carried their kids on their shoulders, some made crossing the quagmire a game, some marched away and let the kid figure it out. I whiled away some more minutes wondering what Sakumo would do. Kakashi was so small, carrying him wouldn't be a problem.
The kids inside the classroom were great at entertaining themselves. One group was gathered a kid with a dog, who was making the ninken do tricks. Both dog and owner seemed pleased with the attention. Another group was gathered around several insects, the type that's drawn out by rainy weather, and there was a high-pitched squeal of disgust from a girl when one of the boys got his hands on an insect and shoved it in her face.
"Hello again!" said a cheerful voice, and I looked around to see Uchiha Ririchi standing in front of me, smiling. "I'm looking for Uchiha Obito. Have you seen him around?"
I did an automatic sweep of the classroom and had already replied, "No," before my brain caught up with my mouth. I blinked at her; she smiled back, guileless.
"Okay," she said, and walked off. I watched her go, aware that Kakashi had lifted his head to stare. She had spoken directly to me.
At the doorway, Ririchi paused to wave someone in. Uchiha Takumi appeared, looking unhappy. She said something that made him frown and scuff the floor with his shoe, but Ririchi said something sharp and pointed down the corridor and he groaned and rolled his eyes, and then, duty clearly passed on, she waved goodbye and left. Takumi watched her go, still scowling.
Amused, I turned to the window. A few moments later, three blurry figures crossed the swamp of the front courtyard, two girls hopping and laughing and kicking up mud as a man with a spiky ponytail half-heartedly trailed after then, an umbrella held unconvincingly aloft.
"So who're you guys waiting for?" Uchiha Takumi asked conversationally from his seat on the lecture table one tier below us, feet resting on the chair.
Kakashi was scowling at Takumi's unusual seating arrangement, I could tell. The furrow between his brows was just deep enough that he was probably making a face underneath the mask. I kept my grin to myself in case he turns on me.
"We're waiting for the rain to stop," I said.
"You'll wait a long time, then," he replied. "When it rains in the summer it rains forever. Sometimes well into the night."
There was a pause in the conversation as I tried to guess if he was talking down to us (ironic) or just being a smug kid dispensing knowledge, when Kakashi snapped his workbook shut and stood up.
"If that's true, then we should leave now before the light dims," he said, stiffly, then looked at me expectantly.
—Wait. What's happening.
Before I could say anything, Takumi leaned forwards and said, grinning, "Are you sure you're tall enough to navigate that mud, Kakashi-kun? Want me to help?"
"Help?" I cut in, before Kakashi could respond to the ribbing.
"Yeah, with my Great Fireball technique! I just learned it."
"Oh, it's hot enough to harden the mud?" The image conjured was pretty funny, I'll give him that. Like unrolling a carpet, except the carpet-roller is a firebreather.
Takumi's eyes lit up. "You know about how ninjutsu work?"
I didn't. It was carry-over knowledge from a different life. My brain stuttered over how a kid who's never been anywhere but her house and school would know about firing clay, and before I let myself just spit out another white lie I remembered Kakashi was still there so even if I gave a bullshit reason to Takumi and he bought it, Kakashi would pry.
He answered for me. "She doesn't. She just reads too many books."
I sat back and tried not to flush from the embarrassing overthinking.
"Huh," said Takumi. "What sort of book tells you what a jutsu does?"
In for a penny, in for a pound. "It was a book about ceramics," I said. The library would have one, probably, somewhere in its cramped shelves. "Different temperatures of fire and different types of soil gets you different ceramics."
Takumi was blinking rapidly. "What temperature?"
"Don't remember," I said, shrugging. "A thousand degrees. At least."
"Can chakra-fire go that hot?" Takumi wondered, mostly to himself.
"If you're very skilled," said Kakashi, and his hackles had dropped some. "If there's any clan who would know, it would be Uchiha. You people have the Fire Release, right?"
"Yeah, but our fire can't even boil water," said Takumi. "We practice at the pier all the time and that water's still there."
"Maybe you can make creating vapor a goal of practice," Kakashi said, sounding much more friendly. "That way you'll have a good gauge of how hot you can make the flames."
Takumi nodded. "Maybe I can impress Yōkō-sama with the temperature of my flames instead of how big the fireball is. Did you know Ririchi-nee can create one as big as a house?"
"Impressive," I said, at the same time Kakashi said, "Temperature is easy to overlook. I would start practicing with small bursts of fire over something that responds to a certain temperature before moving on to the next. I would use that to demonstrate to your Yōkō-sama instead of over that pier."
"Like a fish?" I said, following his logic and appreciating his genius all over again. Five years old in autumn and he's already thinking strategically. "Baked or burnt or too raw."
"Fish works," he agreed. Then, mock-respectfully, "Maybe you can cook your Yōkō-sama a meal, senpai."
Takumi stared at him for one beat- two- then laughed, almost loosing his balance. "You're not so bad, Hatake! We must've caught you at a bad time last week!"
The kid and his dog were looking over, checking out the ruckus. The group of kids around them had dispersed.
"Do either of you know what your chakra natures are?" Takumi said, fishing for a new topic of conversation.
Kakashi shook his head.
I said, "You're trying to avoid doing whatever Ririchi-senpai asked you to do, aren't you?"
Takumi made a face.
I kept pressing. "I appreciate the company, but shouldn't you be looking for your cousin?"
Takumi made a big show of leaning backwards precariously and whined. "Not you too, darn it! Don't be annoying."
"Don't call her annoying," Kakashi said, immediately.
The possessive streak was cute, and uncomfortable. Whatever will happen when he has to make his own friends? During the few days I'd spent tagging along with him, no one had stopped to talk.
Takumi was still in the grips of the melodramatics. "Urgh, who cares about that little shit. He's probably already left the school and in the woods somewhere. I have the shittiest luck."
"So why are you still here?" I asked. "Why not go home?"
"If I go home before Obito, everyone will say it's my fault he's all covered in mud and I'd never hear the end of it from Ririchi-nee." Takumi dropped the act and sat up, arms crossed. "But if I go home after the sun has set and claim to have spent the whole afternoon looking for him, no one can blame me. They can't blame me even if Obito comes back later than I do."
"You don't care if he could be…hurt, or lost?" Kakashi asked, sounding appalled.
Takumi shrugged, nonchalant and dismissive. "That's his problem."
I glanced out the window: the rain was still coming down, but the situation in the courtyard had stabilized. It was no longer a swamp of mud, and the stream of people had slowed to a trickle.
"If Obito-san is really out there in this weather, he might get a cold," I said. "Maybe you should look for him, just this once."
The mantle of responsibility was settling on Takumi's shoulders. Its progress was clearly marked by the disgruntled look inching its way across his face. "Where would I even start?"
"Use your shinobi skills," Kakashi said, deadpan, and I bit back a sigh.
Takumi slid off the table and stretched, grumbling under his breath. "Oh, and, my name's Uchiha Takumi. If Ririchi-nee asks you about me, leave a good word?"
"Sure," I said.
I watched him mope his way across the classroom and corrected Obito's support system to 'non-existent'. Would I have to shore it up? Damn. I didn't like being people's support systems, mostly because I was unreliable.
Just as Takumi reached the door, it flew open with a bang.
A woman was standing there, her already explosive bob of a haircut fizzing all the harder in today's humidity. Red stripes colored her cheeks like claw marks, and her fierce frown included a flash of sharp canine teeth. Her glare swept the room until it landed on the boy and his dog, who grinned like the sun'd come out.
Then, at the same time that a familiar white-haired figure walked up behind her, a wolf walked into the classroom.
AN: when haiko clarified 'a body of water, not a season' it was the english version. technically i should've written 'not a number', but that requires my readers to google a kanji, and unless you're learning japanese, i wouldn't subject anyone to that sort of horror. and sorry this chapter is just 2 scenes; im sort of overwhelmed with college atm.