Winter solstice passed. No massacre. New Year's passed. No massacre. Shisui's visits grew less, but Itachi grew more relaxed. Jiji's twice a month visits became once a month. Mikoto fussed over our scarves, kissed our foreheads, and sent us home everyday.
Naruto's life was so different now from his canon past. He had friends. He had a family that wasn't just me. He had waltzed into the Uchiha compound and came out carrying their hearts.
I thought, we did it. I thought, Talk no Jutsu worked like a charm.
I thought it was enough.
But there were bigger things in this village than a charismatic seven-year-old with a demon in his gut. And I had forgotten that.
It was the twelfth of January. I spent the day as an angry, wool-wrapped ball, hating everything from Hiro-sensei's encouraging grin to Shikamaru's wary look in my direction. Neither Sasuke and Naruto seemed as bothered as I was about the terrible weather, even after we ran all the way from the Academy to the Uchiha compound. It only made me crabbier.
"Hold it."
"But Itachi!" I whined.
His clothes didn't even whisper as he stepped out of my line of sight. "If you have the breath to complain, you have the breath to hold it."
"Why are you complaining? It hasn't even been thirty minutes yet!" Sasuke may have been sweating, but he didn't even pause for breath for that entire sentence.
I glared at him as best as I could from my upside-down position. My arms and legs trembled under the weight of my torso.
A hand slipped under me and pushed up, fixing my sagging backbend. My glare broke. I whimpered.
"GRAAAAAAAAAAAH! I'M GONNA BEAT THAT TIMER, BELIEVE IT!" Naruto screamed from somewhere to my left. I wasn't sure how using his abs even more would help, but if it worked, more power to him. If I could scream, I would too. For different reasons.
The minute Itachi called time, I let my joints fold, collapsing to the ground with a gross squelch. My limbs splayed across the polished wooden floor, while the rain drummed the beat to my funeral march on the roof.
"So… tired…" Naruto gasped, from his own resting place by my left foot. "Even school never gets that tiring!"
I groaned something unintelligible.
The Uchiha head family had their own private dojo—because of course they did—for days like this. Seals older than Mikoto kept the wide room safe from the terror of the winter cold. While we'd have to train to fight in the mud and rain eventually, it seemed ninja did have a modicum of sense and decided that wasn't suitable weather for children in the single digits.
Maybe when we hit doubles.
That was unfair. This was a new world. It was so, so easy to forget it ran on different rules than the ones I was raised on. In the mundanity of everyday life, in the casual interactions between neighbors and friends, I only saw people. Some of them were blue-haired or pupil-less, sure, but still people. I didn't see merchants buying whatever protection they could afford for what should just be a simple cross-country road trip. I didn't see smaller ninja clans covering identifiable clan features before leaving Konoha, because there was a reason their clans were small, and it wasn't for lack of trying.
It was so easy, to forget the shadow of death stalking every person in this world.
Dark hair interrupted my hazy appreciation for the dojo's ceiling. Itachi peered at me from over my head. His small smile lightened his face, turning stress lines into laugh lines, with a hint of a renewed sparkle in the depths of those solid black eyes.
"You did very well today," he said. "Good job."
My lips curled in spite of myself. I quickly turned it into a scowl, though it was more likely to look like a pout. Just to add insult to injury, a panting Sasuke pushed himself into a handstand before folding back upright.
"Come," Itachi said, holding out a hand. "You still have to go through your stretches."
I changed my mind about taking his offer, letting my hand flop back to the floor. His smile widened by a smidge. For an Uchiha—no, for Itachi, he might as well have laughed at me.
"Flexibility is important," he reminded me. "You can supplement your physical strength with chakra, but you can never quite train your flexibility to the levels you'd have if you started young."
"I know, I knoooow." I did not need a repeat of this lecture. I batted at his hand. "Just… gimme a sec."
He tilted his head, considering, before rising to his feet. "Two minutes." He wandered out of sight, probably to check on Naruto.
Sasuke poked my ribs with his toe. "You're pathetic," he informed me. "I moved on from that routine when I was five."
I pointed at him. "Shut up."
Apparently, Uzumaki stamina collapsed in the face of good old physical conditioning. Boundless energy meant nothing if I didn't have the muscles to do forty fucking push ups. Sure, I wouldn't feel it in the morning as much as I should. That didn't stop it from aching now.
"Have you been doing the exercises Shisui taught you?" Itachi asked, as he helped Naruto to his feet.
He let me swim in the puddle of my own sweat for a little while longer. "Every morning, on the dot," I said dully.
Like they wouldn't notice if we stopped. The one time Naruto and I had given in to the temptation of a lazy weekend, Shisui revealed his ability to turn into a demon straight out of hell. He spent the rest of his downtime waking us with relish. At five in the fucking morning, we went through the stretches in the apartment building's backyard.
I was seven! I had the right to sleep in, dammit!
"C'mon, Minako! You're the only one left lying down!" Naruto did his version of being helpful and began trying to yank my arm off. Unlike Itachi, he couldn't be denied by something so mundane as a word of protest.
"Ugh," I said anyway, before rolling over. My arms trembled as I pushed myself to my feet.
The flexibility exercises were at least more fun than standing in an awkward position. Bridges, planking, whatever, all involved ten minutes of boredom, before my body started realizing this isn't fun, actually, until I reached the twenty minute mark where every atom was consumed by the need to collapse, and only sheer will and the threat of Uchiha Itachi's disappointment kept me elevated.
I got a greater sense of wonder touching the back of my head with my toes, or lying flat on my stomach with both legs spread to either side. There were cartwheels involved, special rolls to teach the proper way to fall. I could stand straight with my leg up in a perfect split, then drop down and catch myself on my hands with only the barest of flinches. If I added a half-remembered EDM beat, it could almost be a dance.
Bent over my outstretched leg, I said, "Where is Shisui anyway? Or is that top secret?"
Naruto perked up, abandoning his stretch. "A top secret mission? Is he rescuing a princess? Killing an evil merchant lord? Stealing from another Hidden Village?"
Itachi reprimanded us both by pushing on our backs. I squeaked.
"He was sent on a solo mission near Water," Itachi said, making sure we stayed down for the required count before letting us up. "If I remember correctly, the local noble's daughter had been plagued by assassins as of late, and wanted a shinobi to deal with the one responsible."
Naruto eyes were so wide, you could have fit a starry sky in them. "So he is guarding a princess! That's so cool, dattebayo!"
It certainly sounded romantic. I could see Shisui sweeping the noblewoman off her feet, with his signature grin and a jibe thrown over his shoulder for his enemies. Grand Fireball Jutsu optional.
"Do you know when he'll be back?" I asked.
Itachi looked up from where he was correcting Sasuke's stance. He studied me for a moment, then his gaze softened. "Shisui is perceptive, and highly skilled. He will doubtlessly finish this mission with the same alacrity he has all the others."
That said nothing about who or what he might be facing out there. But Itachi had been relaxed throughout all our exercises, without a flicker of worry or absentmindedness breaking his focus. I had no idea if I could ever describe Itachi as cheerful, but his pleased serenity was as close as it could get. Reassured, I switched to the other leg.
Naruto, too used to Itachi and I talking with big words all the time, dattebayo, ignored us. "What's she like?" he demanded, through a faceful of pant leg. "Is she pretty? She has to be rich, right? Is she gonna reward him with gold? Or a kiss? Princesses give out kisses, right?"
"I think Yua-san would kill him if he let someone land a kiss on him." I snickered at the thought. Not that Shisui would ever let it happen. He was head over heels, and rolling straight down the hill for it.
"Is everyone finished?" The door slid open, letting in Mikoto with a plate full of—holy shit, was that siopao? "The food's ready!"
Naruto and Sasuke's heads snapped up like a pair of bloodhounds, as the scent of steamed pork buns filled the room.
"Food!" Naruto made a mad dash for the door. Sasuke was too refined to barrel towards his mother like that, but his bare feet did make a painful sounding squeak as he skidded to a stop beside her.
My attempts to finish my stretches were half-hearted, at best. I scrambled after them.
"What is it?" I asked, because if there's one thing I had to learn fast, it was to avoid calling things by how I knew them without learning what they were called here.
"They're called nikuman." Mikoto offered me a plate. "Careful, they're hot."
"How'd you make 'em?" I pulled it apart, sniffing the mushy brown pork inside. Soy sauce, maybe? They would make a handy change from sandwiches, if I could figure out how to switch out fillings for variety.
I was fast running out of recipes for our meals, if only because I had no idea how to make the Japanese-like food that Konoha favored. They didn't have sour vegetables I could use for soup. Garlic was also more expensive, which put a damper on pretty much all the recipes I knew how to cook.
"Would you like me to teach you?" Mikoto pulled the plate out of the boys' reach, just in time to save the last bun. Itachi smiled as she held it out to him, murmuring his thanks.
I beamed up at her, my right cheek puffing out with half of my nikuman. "Mmhm!" I said, knowing better than to open a mouth full of pork.
"Then you can help me make the snacks tomorrow." She brushed crumbs off my cheek with her thumb, exasperated and fond.
"So long as she finishes her drills first," Itachi put in. I scowled and chomped down on the remains of my nikuman. Mikoto hid her smile with a hand.
"Minako, so lazy," Naruto said, in a tone horrifically reminiscent of Shisui.
"Like a Nara," Sasuke added. I shot him a dirty look.
"You take that back," I said, and proved him wrong too. Naruto threw his hands up with a whoop, as I launched myself at Sasuke. I dug my fingers into the little brat's sides. He shrieked.
I wasn't that bad! It just so happened that my standards of exercise were, apparently, ridiculous, compared to freaking Uchiha. Who thought three hours of training on top of an afternoon of P.E. was normal, hell, even easy? Freaking Uchiha, that's who.
Mikoto huffed, smiling even as she held the plate out of kicking range. An 'oof' exploded from my lungs as Naruto decided to join the fight, because why the fuck not?
By the time we were done, the rain had moved from cheery drumming to a blurry torrent. We couldn't wait it out. The only thing worse than walking home in the dark was walking home in the rainy dark.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay?" Mikoto asked, tugging our raincoats tighter around us. "Sasuke can lend you some clothes. You can have another sleepover…"
I giggled at the memory. Oh, that had been fun. I didn't remember whose idea it had been, exactly. But there had been yelling involved. Lots of yelling. Maybe even a dare—now that one was all on Naruto. Either way, I got to take a break from, well, babysitting, while Mikoto let the two boys run themselves to the ground before bed. And because she had dumped the three of us in the guest house, we didn't even run into Fugaku. The only thing missing had been Itachi and Shisui, both out on missions at the time.
"Thanks, Mikoto-baa-san," I said, basking way too much under the fussing. "But we've got food waiting at home. We'll just hurry back."
Naruto didn't even flinch as he ran out into the icy rain. "See you tomorrow!" He waved, as if tomorrow wasn't a nap and a day at school away. I braced myself, before running after him.
"Bye!" I yelled over my shoulder.
Winter in Konoha was cold. You'd think this would be obvious, but in my humble, tropical opinion, a season this rainy did not have the right to send me shivering in my stupid, open-toed shinobi shoes. Konoha's winters liked to deliver sheets of freezing, miserable rain, punctuated by the rarest of snowfalls. I didn't even know winter could be like this. I only knew white Christmases from American movies, or typhoon rains falling at a slant in the wind. Who knew winter could be the worst of both worlds?
The raincoats kept out the water that fell straight down, not the droplets that we ran straight into and the puddles splashing around our feet. The villagers' eyes seemed to drill even deeper into my back, in spite of the haze blurring everyone in sight. It added a chill couldn't be explained away by the tender embrace of winter.
We were both shivering before we even made it to our door. "Don't forget," I called, kicking off my shoes with a splat. "Dry—"
"—between my toes, I know, I know." Naruto's whine was undercut by his chattering teeth. He stumbled into the shower, leaving me to juggle our raincoats. I distracted myself from my miserable state by hanging them up and flipping on Konoha's version of an ancient heater.
"Don't use up all the hot water!" I yelled, kicking a rag over the puddles in the kitchen.
"You're the one who uses all the hot water!"
"Because it's cold!"
I turned on the stove, just to spread the heat faster. By the time Naruto's crashing about moved from the shower to our bedroom, I had the table set and dinner simmering in a pot.
"Naruto, I need you to watch the ramen while I shower," I said, putting the lid back.
"RAMEN?!"
There was no holding back my fond, exasperated smile. I loved ramen too, if not to the depths that my brother did, so I didn't mind having it as a meal often. At the very least, I could keep him from eating the instant kind.
I paused at the hallway, sparing one last glance out the kitchen window. The rain poured, smearing the world into an Impressionist's dream of gray and blue. The thin plywood we used as a makeshift target swung under the backyard's lone tree. On any other day, the sight would have been soothing, a paintbrush along my senses. Today, it prickled.
Rubbing my arm, I went to grab that shower.
I woke up in the middle of the night, half a second before the knock on our window. Something tingled under my skin. I sat up, all the hair on the back of my arms standing on end.
The rain had cleared, giving the moon free rein to deepen the shadows in the corners of our room. Beside me, Naruto was still, buried in the sands of sleep. Shisui knocked again, his face lit from the side by the street lamp beyond the fence.
"Shisui?" My pulse thudded in my ears. I forced myself towards the window, drowsy and sluggish. As if water filled my bones, and I was walking on the seafloor. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on a mission?"
"I just got back," he said sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck, perched on our windowsill with what could only be a judicious application of chakra. "There's something I needed to show you, and it couldn't wait."
Nothing felt right. Even the very air felt heavy, weighing down on my skin. I rubbed my arm, grimacing. "Gimme a second."
Whatever it was, it had to be important. Shisui was a nutty jack-in-the-box, but even he wouldn't pop into someone's place at fuck o'clock in the evening. Morning?
My clumsy fingers took a few seconds to unlatch the window. The scent of early morning Konoha rushed in with the winter chill, a cocktail mix of wet grass and soggy trash bags that I'd never had the bad luck to experience. I yawned, half-expecting the taste of rust and smoke on the back of my tongue.
There was no scent. I shuddered, even though it made sense that he would hide it during missions. It just didn't feel right, to see him but not smell him, or barely even hear him.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Here." He held out his hand. I broke eye contact and looked down.
Black on red on white filled my vision, a sight ingrained into my brain before I had even been born—
sleep.
The world spun, dragging me deeper and deeper into a whirlpool of blood and void. Searing wind and rotting branches slashed through my veins, digging in with thorns I couldn't fight off. A roar filled my ears. My legs folded under me.
Shisui's voice drifted over my head.
"You know what to do."
Naru… to…
Then, darkness.
A/N: :D
Okay, so this is kinda difficult without ao3's html support, but basically, so much has happened since my last update that I had to put it in my writing blog, because I don't like long A/Ns in my chapters. Head to fleeting-white-feathers on tumblr if you're curious. Otherwise, here's the important bits:
For the first time since I first published this story, I have a backlog LOL. I'll be uploading every other week, to give myself time to reply to all the comments as per usual and finish the rest of the arc. Enjoy! :D
The first chapter has undergone major edits. Because apparently, I can stomach leaving my old, bad writing alone, up until I realized past me did head hopping. Why, baby Ren. Why?
Finally, this is where I remind everyone of what I said in ch. 3: Everyone is an unreliable narrator. Their POV is narrow, they will know things you don't and not know things you do, and they can be and are mistaken a lot of the time. Look underneath the underneath ;) It'll get even more relevant as we move forward.
Cheers, and see y'all in two weeks!
EDIT: I'M SO SORRY I added back something to the beginning of this chapter that I took out before I uploaded it, so no, you're not imagining things. I made a mistake and I tried to correct it. I don't have a beta, so I've only got me to catch my mistakes T_T I'm so sorry about that
