Sayuriama had never intended to become so beautiful.
After all, she reasoned, beauty was a shallow surface trait that could be easily marred or would eventually fade with time. She certainly didn't want to be ugly, as every girl would tell you, but possessing beauty to the point where you are no longer viewed as a human? In a world where men killed one another for a piece of bread, she had never felt peace away from her brothers.
This beauty was more of a curse than a blessing.
She knew that's not how most people viewed her. They called her blessed, a very visage of beauty incarnate. They didn't know her. They didn't know she spoke several languages, understood even more. That she had memorized nearly two hundred ninjutsu scrolls.
Not even her clan spoke to her like she was an adult, speaking down to her.
They underestimated her because her intelligence would never be as important as her beauty.
It drove her from a comfortable bed every night to try and train because she was exhausted from hearing about her sparkling eyes, her lovable cheeks, the fine shape her lips rested in when she pondered something. And one more comment on her perfect nose….
It was better to sit in the bushes, dirty and sore then be subject to that.
How did these men even get to her window? Why hadn't her brothers stopped them?
That's why she was at the Senju training grounds, still in the compound, but where no one would watch her, where no one could judge. Except for her new nanny, Tsunada. Everyone knew that's what the older woman recently assigned to her was. Not that Hashirama said that directly when she asked why Mito didn't have one and she did. He said something about keeping her virtue intact.
She told him exactly where he could put his own virtue. This caused him to go into a depression and sit sadly in despair most of the day. Proprietary was not something people who knew her well would comment about.
While happy to host her and cater to her whims for a while, quickly her brothers had been drawn back into the village, and subsequently, began forgetting about her.
Tobirama had been straightforward the last time she had asked.
"You can't even walk without tripping, dear sister." He said pointedly. "And I don't have time to babysit while creating a city."
Tobirama deserved her look of disdain as she left the room, head held proudly. It would have been better if she hadn't stumbled over the banister on the way out, causing his chuckles to loudly follow her in shame.
If only. If only.
Fate had certainly been cruel. It was the worse sense of despair to be left, to watch as those you cared for slowly disappeared, never returning from where they ventured. They thought they were doing her a favor but instead had gifted her misery, anxiety, and fear that engrained so deeply it could have been her shadow.
Petulance led by fear, augmented by lack of talent.
Among the myriad of problems she faced was chakra control. If hand to hand combat was poor, her ninjutsu was non-existent. She never had any skill with hand-eye coordination or grace when it came to fighting. The most she could do was throw a kunai in the general direction she wanted. Learning how to run was a trial. She had to focus her entire being if she wanted to be successful.
Which was strange because as long as she stayed away from the intentions of doing such, she was perfectly capable and balanced, and had learned to move with poise. It was as if her thoughts jinxed her.
For having such battle proficient brothers as Hashirama and Tobirama, it was embarrassing. Not cute, or as people told her, endearing.
There was no explanation of how her brothers could have such prodigious skill, except they took her as well.
Beauty aplenty, but nothing to back her high claims but the hope her family would continue to live, to be capable enough to save her from the cruel world who wanted to use her.
Inside her, she could feel the frustration bubbling but shook it away. Every kidnapping attempt had managed to be foiled, but she was still left with the fear that one day she wouldn't be saved, despite being so heavily guarded.
A long distant memory threatened to return, but as always, she pushed it down. Now there was no time for it. Whether she was still a child or not was debatable, but something that wasn't is that she was an undeniably desirable target.
A different village, the same voice of admiration.
Since beauty was all these men knew of her, she felt like she really had no obligation to pay attention. She was always spurred to action because it was impossible to sleep with men constantly outside her window. How her brothers laughed the first night. She hoped they didn't sleep for the next five years- she could catch up during the day while they were out.
As soon as she bid her family good night, she'd sneak away, missing the annoying wanting lovers. It was really the only time she had alone. After becoming the most kidnapped person in Uzushiogakure (or more likely, the Land of Fire) she felt like she had the right to be the one doing to sneaking.
Sayuriama had felt like there was something incongruous that night and decided that she should leave the training fields early. Climbing through Hashirama's understructure was a training in itself, as well as avoiding a few servants who worked nights.
She slipped into her room, sighing in the victory. Not being caught by her brothers was quite the feat, though the way Hashirama looked at her some morning made her feel that she wasn't that sneaky in her escapades. But he must have been feeling indulgent, for he never mentioned her walking around.
Tsunada had been a surprising ally, tapping into her discontent. They had met the first day she had arrived, and Sayuriama had spent the entire day slipping away, making rude comments and trying to be as unpleasant as possible. But at every turn, the older woman had been kind, understanding, and never let her slip away for long.
She secretly admired that sort of devotion, and while she felt almost abandoned, Tsunada let her be herself. They talked ninjutsu together, and Tsunada watched her train, correcting things even though she never got better. She explained the security measures Hashirama had, like she could be trusted, avoiding every trap.
Tonight was the same.
She and Tsunada split up once she was safely in her room. Inside the one area that was her own Sayuriama finally gave in to a deep sigh, letting herself release her exhaustion. Stepping towards the vanity she pulled off the mask first, disconnecting the humid material from her sweaty face.
It was much warmer here than in Uzushiogakure, and she was sure that she'd never get used to it. It was the devil in the daytime, especially since she often was dressed in the traditional kimono. Mito demanded it, saying lightly, as she was she comfortable in hers, that it showed that they were ladies, and they would be treated like them. Sayuriama wondered if she might have some actual friends if the other girls she had seen knew she wasn't the snobby lady she looked.
Girls, when she approached, shied away and used any excuse to mock her. Older female villagers tended to avoid her, and even many in the clan treated her with bare respect. All this, Tsunada stated, was due to jealousy. She wanted to scream how she was the same as them, she had no interest in their men. But too many of their boyfriends had been starstruck by her, leaving her derelict of friends.
The same tale, different city. Mito had been her only friend in the Village Hidden in the Whirlpools.
Princess, she was called. She laughed when she was first called it. It was all for the propriety of being a Senju sibling in this new city. They were a sort of Royalty in the ninja world, her brothers for their talent, skill and hard work, and she from a clan association and her face.
She doubted her dead brothers, Kawarama and Itama let her be treated so carefully. Tobirama had always been cool and reserved, and while Hashirama was warm and open even he treated her like an object at times.
Kawarama was kind and tender, and Itama had been wild and teasing. They chased her over mountains, threw dirt at her, and teased her relentlessly. But they were thrown into battle as children and were long dead. Hashirama and Tobirama had been nearly ten years her senior, and were already warriors when she was born. She looked at the mirror, wondering what they would have looked like. Maybe more like her, or her like them? Her chest felt a pang at the thought her mother, also gone. The only person that had never told her to give up. Her father adored her to the point of never letting her into training. Now he was gone as well.
They didn't understand her, even though they thought they did. Callous men. Not even Mito had been able to spend much time with her. Tsunada was too old to think it mattered.
She was alone, and everything was new.
Tears threatened to come out, but she couldn't let them. Too many times she had cried herself to sleep when she first came, and it did nothing. Anger had replaced sorrow.
Sayuriama felt upset as she threw off the rest of the training material she had pilfered from the Senju storage sheds. She would never be anyone of worth if she let these people dictate her life.
Getting down to her off-white slip made some of the pressure leave her chest. She looked at the scratches she had earned, her mussed hair. Fatigue finally hit her, overcoming her discontent.
Taking a glance down, she thought about recklessly leaving the clothes on the floor, just once. But being the first rule Tsunada set, she would risk the privilege of training if she was found out. And the old woman would smack her for being stupid.
She considered throwing them in the closet haphazardly.
The old woman might help her to the point of cleaning her training clothes every day in addition to her regular duties, but she would kick Sayuriama's back to The Land of Whirlpools if she left her clothes on the wood floor. For a fifty-year-old, she was pretty strong.
In a lingering fear of Tsunada's fist, she picked up every piece and put it at the bottom of the woven laundry basket. She even went as far as to wipe the mud off the floor.
Rising she moved to her vanity, an expensive wooden table gifted by her brothers when she arrived. Few women could boast of possessing such a finely polished mirror in the Land of Fire. She ignored it most days, but at night Tsunada had water and a rag waiting
She scrubbed herself down, finally taking off the slip to reveal skin that healed perfectly. One nice thing about being a member of the Senju clan was she did heal well from even really nasty cuts, hardly getting ill.
Cleaning them as best she could she then went to the closet, reaching for the top shelf that contained more underclothes. Grumbling she wondered why she had put it in such an inconvenient place, promised she would switch it. But she was out of luck again as there was no clean pair, remembering that laundry was usually done the next day. She hesitantly put back on the sweaty undergarments putting them first into the water to wring them out.
Failing to get the dirt out she gave up. No amount of uneasy feeling was going to get it better, but tomorrow she had clean clothes and no pressing appointments with either brother. She would finally live up to her title and sleep in.
She could easily explain away the wetness of her robe because tonight the heat was horrendous, but for good measure, she pulled on a yukata. If nothing else they hid the cuts she had carelessly caused over the nights, especially when Hashirama decided he wanted to go on an early morning walk and showcase his work to her.
A warm glow hit her screened window, a mellow light filtering in the room. Getting clean had taken longer than she thought. Her room was giving off the golden radiance of the sunrise, the wood reflecting the luminosity splendidly. Small bonsai plants from Hashirama were scattered on the sill, a smile finally coming to her lips.
Hashirama could be quite crazy when it came to his pet project, planting bonsai in as many random places in his village as possible.
It was a serene moment that gave her peace. She had always liked watching the sunrise, but The Land of Whirlpools had more gray mornings than gold. Tying the white cotton belt around her slender waist she knelt by her bed, airing it out once to make sure no bugs had entered. Finding it clear she slid in and stretched out.
Using a pearly hand, complete with perfectly cut nails, she grabbed the leather tie that had been holding her hair and pulled it out. Her copious amounts of hair fell down her shoulders, shining and spreading gracefully over the pillow.
She had finally accomplished something new tonight, and could now sleep in peace. Something she wouldn't have done had she'd stayed in her room. Those midnight visitors would never know they were singing to an empty room.
She grabbed the cotton covers, pulling their warmth around her. It was probably a little too hot, even in the early morning, for using covers but it had become a habit back in the land of Whirlpools. It was a lot colder there.
Fortunately, the cloth used here was breezy and with some small adjustments to let her feet out, the temperature was perfect. The cotton pillow molded to her face, a little stiffer than the feather one she had used when staying in Uzushiogakure, but the cotton managed to fare better. If they got dirty they were much easier to clean, and Tsunada didn't have to switch the covers often.
She didn't doubt her brothers would give her anything she wanted, but it was empty. The Senju clan did have the money to buy the best, but they were currently using quite a chunk of it to create the Ninja village. The village was quite a revolutionary idea. Instead of the wealthy benefactors paying clans, all they would have to do is support a village that would protect their entire country. Sayuriama did think it was amazing what her brother was doing, but the Fire Daimyo was being quite the devil about it. That's what she heard anyhow. She knew that they had high hopes for the last person they sent to convince him.
Sayuriama closed her eyes, the thick lashes resting on her cheeks. She sighed before falling into the limbo between sleep and awake and drifted into the dark.
The screen door slammed open and Sayuriama jumped up, almost squealing in fright.
Tobirama smiled at his little sister, obviously thinking she was just waking from a long night of sleep. His expression was one she was getting to know- an irritated look. What on earth had she done to irritate him now? Did he discover she was stealing his kunai? There was no way, not yet.
Regardless she yelled. "Tobi! Really? What the h-"
"Language, Sayuri!" He said bounding into her room, taking large steps till he reached her. "I'm so glad to see you have gotten your beauty sleep." He looked down, raising an eyebrow. She must have had the beginnings of faint dark shadows under her eyes. She was still human.
"Sayuriama, Tobi." She glared, then lay back down pulling her covers over her.
What was her brother doing in her room at the crack of dawn? Even more, why was he smirking in that creepy manner he had when he was trying to hide his irritation. He looked a little insane. He was wearing his metal forehead protector (Had he ever taken it off?) and his white hair looked as if it was on some sort of drug the way it was whacking out. He was in his night robe and his white hairy legs were sticking out. She shivered at the thought. Male legs should not be so casual.
"Ninja Art: Blanket-No-Jutsu. Now I'm not here. Leave Tobi." Sayuriama muffled voice came from beneath the fabric, giving her brother the insulting, shortened form of his name. She attempted to make her voice threatening, but it more came out in a tender squeak. She remembered why she hated mornings. She was not in the mood.
Neither was Tobirama.
He just hid it behind that cold smile reserved for moments like this. He stepped over to the bed and in a swift motion stripped her of her protective guise. She gasped at getting flipped out of the blanket, and again when he hoisted her to her feet. His speed was insane, and she was on the cold floor standing her bare feet in a matter of moments.
I'm even bad at fake ninjutsu, she thought correctly.
As Tobirama heaved his sister up he noticed scraps on her arms and legs. Her underclothes looked sticky and there was dirt on the fabric also. Sayuriama attempted to wrench away from her brother, scrambling away in a comedic fashion.
"Sayuriama, why do these look fresh?" He hoisted up a leg much to her dismay and she slipped. He grabbed her and held her in balance while inspecting the cut. "You look like you've been rolling in the mud."
"I accidentally fell into a bush yesterday. They probably opened when you grabbed me!" She lied smoothly, attempting to her arm and leg free. "Let GO Tobirama!" The said man's dark eyebrows rose and were almost covered by the ever-existent metal plate on his forehead. She looked at him, eyes narrowed.
"You're very unbalanced." He said, shrugging, not really buying the story, but not letting go of her appendages. He looked at the cut on her leg again. "Let's put some medicine on it."
"Let Tsunada do it and you can leave to do whatever you're up so early for!" Sayuriama managed to free her arm. She gestured, waving him away. "Come to think of it, Tobirama, what did you wake me up for? I thought we had a free morning!" He smiled again, that cold smile. The marks on his face seemed to grow, and for a moment she wondered if it hurt when he got them. She forgot her question as he finally released her leg, apparently excited about the news. He loved being the one telling the story.
"The... the men we sent to the Fire Daimyo just got back, about two hours ago. We're meeting them as soon as possible." She could almost see his satisfaction. "Hashirama asked you to come." He looked as if he would disagree with the elder brother wholeheartedly.
"That's nice," She replied coolly, "But it has nothing to do with me." Tobirama stopped cold. He then looked her straight in the face, appraising her. For some reason she was dirty.
"Hashirama specifically requested it." Sayuriama groaned. Was she supposed to stun the poor ambassadors with her beauty?
"I'm tired. Find another sister." She reached down to grab the blanket that had been so rudely thrown to the floor. Tobirama grabbed it first and pulled it out of reach.
"I think not, princess." She looked up.
"I am not a princess!"
His smirk got bigger.
"What's the big deal?" She noticed in horror he had that smile on. The face he got whenever he was about to do something really nasty, that would make him win their argument. Granted, he didn't get to use it often when in a verbal dialogue with Sayuriama and her tongue, but she had learned to run when he had it.
She then regarded his crossed arms, a single finger lifted in retaliation. She recognized the simplified hand sign of her brother and looked in horror.
"You wouldn't DARE." She hissed. He smiled.
"You are rather dirty, maybe this will wake you up. It's like killing two enemies with one hand sign."
"I'm wearing white!" She said, hoping to escape. Her worst fear was realized as he tossed her the blanket that had fallen to the floor, and resumed the hand sign. He put his hand out in front of him then drew them back sharply, clapping.
"Water Release: Water Shockwave!"
Sayuriama managed to call her brother a very rude name before the virtual wall of water hit her full on. She then screamed.
Water release was usually a technique used for offense and one that ninja brothers didn't often use it on their younger sisters. Tobirama and Sayuri weren't ordinary siblings. They were Senju.
It was a testament to Tobirama's skill as a ninja that he was able to perform such a syncopated hand skill, and even more so that he was using it as a bath for his little sister.
Tsunada, the deeply respected guard of Sayuri, was standing at the door, noticing the skill that Tobirama was utilizing the Jutsu, cracking up as he did so. His voice wasn't as deep as Hashirama's wise one, but it held the same confidence, and maybe a bit more of a mischievous will. Sayuriama was holding onto the blanket as the Jutsu circled her. It was much smaller than his real attack but almost as vicious.
Tobirama was holding his hands crossed contently, keeping the Jutsu up. He looked almost too happy. Tsunada stepped in, holding a fresh pair of underwear in her arms. Tobirama acknowledged her with a nod, smirking.
"You're up early Tsunada." She nodded, agreeing.
Sayuriama, seeing her, screamed for help between several face fulls of water. "Tsu-" Water. "na-" Water. Screw the name. "HEL-" Water in the face.
"I heard the yelling. I could say the same to you Lord Tobirama." She said calmly, looking at the scene.
"I've actually been up all night."
"A common thing here, I'm afraid. But not necessarily her fault." Tobirama slightly grinned at the crafty old woman. As he looked over at his sister, the powerful jutsu did seem a little unfair.
"She is clean, I suppose." He said a little dramatically, releasing his Jutsu. He then moved to the window, tossing the curtains aside, and opened it. Performing another hand sign the water on the floor where the Jutsu was raised and went out. As if on a second the thought, the water on Sayuriama followed.
She sat on the floor, damp, a little disorientated.
Tsunada looked at Tobirama, thinking that she was seeing the only man who used Ninjutsu to bathe his sister. Then she watched as he went over to Sayuri and gently lifted her up, blanket and all. She hadn't been knocked around all that bad, but she was pretty mad.
She directed a surprisingly well-aimed fist into his firm chest, which Tobirama took, but smiled. He then grabbed the wet girl in a hug, kissed her sopping forehead, and walked to Tsunada. He gave her the update of the morning, and she nodded. He then left waving goodbye over his shoulder, going to dress.
"I hate you both." Sayuriama glared at the older woman who was staring after Tobirama's back. She turned back, smirking.
"You're the spoiled girl who deserved it. Hm."
"Did you SEE what he did to me! That was abuse!" Tsunada went over to Sayuriama who had sat on the bed. She put her arms on the girl's shoulders, and Sayuriama Sayuriama began to warm up. Tsunada had an affinity towards fire chakra so it was really no surprise she was so warm. She had the ability to pass body heat to people. "Thanks, but I'm still angry."
"Let's get you ready."
"I guess now that I'm awake."
Tsunada and Sayuriama rushed down the wooden walkways of the Senju compound twenty minutes later. They had a few more tiffs about what to wear but Tsunada won out, as she always did when it came to clothes. She was wearing a gorgeous blue kimono, a traditional Senju tree pattern. Her obi, the long sash of whites and yellow was tied in a firm at her back, forming a tight bow. Her long smooth hair had been put up in a simple style, flower ornaments placed with care.
After the last touches, socks and house sandals, they left.
They were silent as they passed the family sleeping quarters where the Senju cousins were, but as they got closer to the main house Sayuriama turned to Tsunada. She had lifted the kimono slightly, trading modesty for ease. She did have a tendency to trip in the shoes and was often shoeless for an easier commute. Not today. With all this preparation, it was clear Hashirama wanted to impress.
"Who are these ambassadors?" Tsunada looked hesitantly at her. If Sayuriama was getting dressed up like a doll this early she deserved an answer. She had been pretty good about not falling asleep again.
"One was your uncle Hotaka." Sayuriama nodded. It made sense that she hadn't seen him, though they had been friends in her youth. There were so many people she had to remember these past few days; not even mentioning the new people and clans. The few weeks she had been here had been a blur.
"I was wondering where he was. I miss his quips. Who was the other unlucky fellow?" Sayuriama grinned, and Tsunada snickered, then covered her mouth with her kimono as if improper.
It was well known Hotaka Senju was an excellent negotiator, but more notoriously, that he was also a nostalgic pervert. Especially when it came to reminiscing about his dead wife. Half of what Sayuriama knew was from listening to her old uncle in her youth. He had been a sort of patron to her cheekiness.
"It is rather unusual."Tsunada paused, clearly considering something, but finally turned to her again. She conspiratorially leaned in as if to tell a scary story under her breath. "The other fellow, as you put it, was the Uchiha Clan leader."
Tsunada paused, tugging as Sayuriama's stopped form. Not many names could make Sayuriama Senju pause, but this one did.
"The Uchiha Clan Leader, as in... Madara Uchiha?" Her voice was dark.
The man that caused every Senju child shiver in fear.
What Senju didn't feel some sort of anger towards them? Her brothers, Itama and Kawarama had died as children in the battle against his clan many years ago, but she along with most of her clan held the Uchiha clan in special distaste.
She didn't know the man personally, but the whisperings of him among the Senju and Uzumaki clan were plenty of information for her to digest. He had a resume: The Uchiha that single-handedly brought his clan from a dwindling line to one of the few that had been able to spar the Senju Clan, a fearless shinobi that could stand on equal grounds as her elder brother. The ninja who Tobirama hated fiercely without equal.
Now, she could form her own opinion.
It only made sense, but she couldn't help feel a twinge of fear at the Uchiha name.
But still, this was a rare opportunity to exact revenge for her brothers in the only way she possibly could. Why else should Hashirama ask her to come when he wanted her to charm this enemy for some reason?
She would take this chance to snub this Uchiha Clan Leader.
How could she not take this moment to let him know just what the Senju thought of him? An act of mild revenge, but the best she could do.
It would be too fun.
She narrowed her eyes, putting a finger to her lips. Tsunada nodded.
"The very same. I'm sure you're more than knowledgeable about the Uchiha. You have strange fascinations for things you have no business in." Tsunade already knew Sayuriama was troublesome when it came to intrigue and things that generally should be unspoken.
"Uh, Tsunade! You assume too much. I am too little a girl to be of notice."
"I would be grateful if that logic could last through the night. We're all very tired of these singing boys."
"It would be rude if I told them to leave." Sayuriama put her hand to her mouth, aware of her silliness. "I'm sure Madara would be angry if I was so rude."
"Little brat. You will call him Lord Uchiha when you meet him, and you will certainly not be so crass as to speak to him. Lord Hashirama has a very high opinion of him, and would be displeased if he was vexed."
"So am I to at least meet Lord Uchiha?" The name sounded exotic on her tongue and a little dangerous. The girl subconsciously pulled her lovely robes around her, her cheeks a bit red at the cool morning air. "The same Lord Madara that has hated the Senju for generations."
Tsunada frowned.
"If he deems it worth his time. He might make us wait- You never quite know with him. And you will not vex him. We need to put the past behind us. "
Sayuriama smiled delicately. "Of course not. It's not like the Uchiha have ever vexed a Senju." Tsunada frowned.
"We need to put old anger behind us if this village is to work. You must be an example." Tsunada said. "We have killed many of them as well."
Sayuriama stopped for just a moment.
"I suppose." Her face wasn't convinced.
The two entered the Senju meeting house, erected with thick wooden pillars and an elegant tiled roof. It had been painted in the usual Senju colors, emblems gleaming on lacquered wood. The Senju symbol gleamed in the night. Sliding doors lined the walls, a multitude of rooms of many family members, as well as the various people employed. Hashirama had hired many in need.
The few in the room recognized them, nodded slightly, as if with little interest. Young guards let their eyes follow Sayuriama until she had passed, leaving the flowery scent of her perfumes to grace their imaginations.
It was a quiet place, this early. Sayuriama matched her voice to the mood, keeping it low.
"So why have I been summoned? To complement the tea or seduce the Uchiha?" Tsunada hit her on the head. "Ow!"
"No silliness. And it's LORD Uchiha. Be polite." Sayuriama chuckled and bit her lip, eyebrows raising. "But only Lord Hashirama would know the real reason for that."
"Old Hag. That hurt- Don't bother giving me your airs. I know that you know every intrigue. Hashirama is no fool when it comes to his minions."
"Yes."
Sayuriama rubbed her head and Tsunade had to swat at her again to make sure all the work she had done was not ruined.
"Stop it!"
"Stop ruining my work. It's perfection!"
"Tell me! Your gossip is the only perfect thing in this house." Tsunada smirked, not denying the statement. She did just happen to occasionally hear things. She said it wasn't really gossip, but more making sure things ran smoothly.
"I suppose your brother wants to show Madara he trusts and respects him. How better to do so than to formally introduce his beautiful, intelligent, sister to him? You have not been formally introduced to many people."
"It's Hashirama's fault I don't get out more often." She said, feeling dejected. She had very much wanted to go to the play the other night and had watched from afar as other people had passed to go. But, her brothers always seemed to have some sort of trick up his sleeve. Hashirama was much more cunning than he let on.
"Quiet. We're getting close."
Sayuriama nodded mindlessly, hearing the whisper voices to the front of them, in the cozy personal room at the end of the hall. They were behind the screen, and the murmur of voices slipped through the tatami-covered doors.
How would she insult the Uchiha? She would have to do so in a way that was so formal and engaging that he might not even know she was slowly removing his confidence. After all, men usually never considered her capable of intelligent reasoning enough to influence their thoughts.
She was just about to slide open the screen door when he spoke, and she was glad she had not. It caught her off her guard, and her knees trembled a bit. But It was this last voice that really caught her attention.
Sayuriama didn't think that she was capable of being charmed. She, by far, had the most enticing voice she knew off. She had once charmed a kidnapper so well with her voice, he didn't notice a group of Whirlpool Shinobi walk behind him and hit him over the head.
They found her looking rather bored, reciting the edict of some past general.
But as she got closer to identifying people, she was surprised that maybe there was someone who had enough of a voice to intrigue even her.
Hashirama had his reassuring voice, even and calm. He wasn't the most talented conversationalist, but he had this way of making you feel comfortable and agreeable. Even after ten years that hadn't changed, and she still felt safe hearing it. She could also hear Mito. If she hadn't known better, she would have guessed they were already married, the way Mito's voice seemed to accent Hashirama's in the most perfect way. They both had great charisma. Tobirama's voice was slightly lower than Hashirama, but it still held that Senju confidence. And if she had to guess, he was not a little too happy. Normally he seemed to be sober and held that tone of strength and passion. He wasn't quite as calming, but he did have a pull to him. Power. Even Uncle Hotaka had a distinct style, though less elegant.
At the sound of the voice, her thoughts paused.
"It wasn't as successful as I hoped, but I do think we managed to make him consider that the repercussions of not deciding to give us his support wouldn't be very good."
It was as if the impact had knocked every wisp of air from her lungs. Her expression went from confident tease to white chalk.
Tsunada turned to the girl and was caught off guard by her expression, the hand stopped cold.
The sound of rushing blood filled Sayuriama's ears blocking all sound as the world shifted and became crisper. The steady beat of her own heart pounded in her head, sending signals to chill her spine and ready her for something akin to encountering something terrible.
It wasn't the exact words that caught her attention and would be forever engrained in her; It was the absoluteness of the voice.
At first, it was a honeyed tone, full of convincing subtleties, but as she listened, it turned deeper than Tobirama's, husky and full of unspoken secrets.
She knew it would be hard to convince herself that something like heat could shoot through her because of a voice, but here it was. So assured of its own ability to create poetry where none was meant, and she knew that if the man matched, she would be in trouble. This voice had the ability to make her feel.
There was really only one way to describe the voice. The way she had never had cause to say about anyone, much less a voice. Sybaritic. She listened with a hedonistic pleasure to the voluptuous, amative man. He would not be controlled, nor could she so simply embarrass him.
She realized that she might be a vestal maiden on the brink of discovery. Sayuriama had long scorned feelings of love as she had been told she was their cause by so many men. An aching memory in the back of her head threatened to come forward but she refused to let it taint the moment.
She looked to her raised hand, shaking. She indeed was as austere in her romantic feelings as an unplucked flower. She felt the urge to learn just what in him made her seem so... so restrained. It would be like flying. Would his image match the voice? Or would she forever be disappointed by walking through this door?
She chided herself for the poetic feelings that made no sense. What was she doing, giving up her crusade to wound the man so easily?
Tsunada had looked on in surprise, wondering just what the silly girl was up too. A little listening at doors was not unusual to gauge the situation, but Sayuriama had seemed fixed in thought.
She reached out, putting a hand to the girl's forehead.
Sayuriama pushed it away, breaking from the trance. Feeling her heart settle its indecision she turned to Tsunada, taking on a cheeky look.
"Are you well?" Tsunada said quietly, taking care not to be heard. Sayuriama lifted a hand to open the door, taking a moment. Tsunada noted the quick hard tremor and frowned. She moved to leave, but Sayuriama shook her head.
"I'm... beautiful."
Then she slid open the door, all smiles.