I'm back with a new chapter!
Enjoy-
Dawn cracks over the horizon as Hiruzen glowers out towards the village. From his office, he watches the crisp orange fade into receding purple as the dark of the night retreats.
Soon, the windows will be reflecting the morning sun.
His patience is running thin.
"Hmm."
Pipe in mouth, the old man grumbles to himself, incoherent to any listening ears perched in the walls of the Hokage's office (mostly pigeons, and some mice). He turns away from the window and shuffles to his empty desk- he has spent the night clearing out the clutter, leaving only a few scrolls, some half-opened lying carelessly on the dull surface of the aged furniture.
Outside, across the village, the gates are pushed open with a loud, grating rumble. Hiruzen's ears twitch almost imperceptibly as he feels the vibrations through the soles of his old feet.
Michiko has returned.
At 5 in the morning, she is greeted by guards whose faces she does not recognise at all.
Her return is unceremonious. She half expects her uncle to be waiting for her, but there is no sign of him at the gate.
Then she remembers that he is the Hokage now, he doesn't have the luxury to be out here.
Kakashi is already ahead of her again, kicking up dust as he finds his way to the hurries to catch up with him, noting that his gaze is fixed on the Hokage's office looming over the centre of the village. His attention is wholly focused towards completing his mission.
The amount of fatigue she experiences in those couple of minutes sends her body into temporary discord. Her limbs feel rusted and heavy, and the half-healed gash on her face begins a slow thrum that makes the skin of her face tingle with every gasped breath. Whether Kakashi can tell that she is struggling, she does not know.
The looming view of their destination makes Michiko nervous. Her stomach churns loudly.
She distracts herself by focusing on the sound of their running and the scent of firewood that lurks in the air. In this half of the year, the weather goes dry and the chill creeps in, setting a strange dryness in everyone's lungs. Michiko feels it now, stronger than ever. She picks up on the motley scent of crushed flowers, possibly lilies, as they cross the village graveyard.
The young Sarutobi does not know what to expect from her uncle.
Possibly lots of rage.
Clambering tiredly over the roofs, exhaustion burns through her limbs and she nearly stumbles, cussing loudly as she regains her footing. Kakashi has had her travelling straight for three days.
Kami, I can't even… She halts, resting her palms on her knees as she gasps for breath. Her heart feels as if it might burst through her chest.
A few seconds later, a familiar pair of sandals makes its way into her line of sight.
"Are you okay, Sarutobi?"
In a hushed voice, Michiko tells Kakashi she needs a medic right away.
"I'll send someone to you." He pauses as Michiko straightens, her eyes clenched shut, "Let me help you get to the office."
"No!" Michiko gasps, "No, taichou."
Kakashi blinks at the mention of his former title.
"I'll go myself. Please. Please get a medic fast."
As she slowly begins her sprint towards the office, hopping gently from this roof to the next, Kakashi watches after her with concern.
'What a stubborn girl.'
Seeing that she is able to manage, he disappears in a blur, secretly relieved to get out of meeting the Hokage with his niece in tow.
Michiko can sense the temperature cooling- but whether that is the weather or her body, she has no idea- she might have been running a fever on the way here.
She distracts herself again by being mindful of the sound of the breeze in her ears, and the hot, delicious scent of fresh porridge that wafts through the not yet bright day.
She thinks of Shisui and how porridge is his breakfast of choice, and suddenly she is only a block away from the Hokage's office. She can see the old man standing behind the glass, his white cloak almost glowing in the half-light. His office is dark behind him and his image is obscured by the reflections of the village on the glass.
Unceremoniously, he slides the window open and moves away to turn on a light.
Awkwardly, Michiko clambers through the window, exhaustion draining her of any grace.
"Hello, Oji-san."
Hiruzen stares at her from behind his desk and turns his attention to shuffling through a few scrolls. He says nothing, pipe smouldering and tension building as Michiko tiredly waits for him to speak up.
"Welcome home." He says mildly, "Took you long enough, don't you think?"
She swallows a lump in her throat. She is parched and could kill for a glass of water.
"What did you do to your face?" He asks, noting the shoddy bandaging.
"I got hurt." She rasps, clearing her throat. Hiruzen picks up a jug of water and places it before her, eyes never leaving her.
Michiko takes the jug and chugs from it, water dripping down her chin as she drains the contents in a minute. Her uncle mutters something under his breath, but all she can hear is the heavenly sound of water down her throat.
"Show me how bad it is." He instructs as she places the empty jug back on his desk, wetting some of the documents that are sprawled across it. With shaking fingers, Michiko unties the bandage and begins to unravel the gauze. Bits of it are stuck to her skin and she pries them off with a hiss of pain. The gash begins to burn, as if she has woken it from a slumber.
Hiruzen gives away no measure of shock, but he admits that the wound is ugly and deep.
"Thank god you didn't get any maggots in there."
Michiko grimaces, "I kept it clean."
"Has Kakashi gone to fetch a nurse? We should heal that before we talk."
"Yes." She glances at the door, half-hoping the white-haired jounin would arrive. "May I sit?" She asks, pleadingly.
"Of course."
She all but collapses into the chair.
Hiruzen however, remains standing, pipe now in his hand. The room is already full of wisps of smoke and smells strongly of tobacco. The older Sarutobi's face is an emotionless mask- even Michiko's angels wouldn't know what was going in the mind behind his observant eyes.
He has already made note of the two red dots above her eyebrows and the wiriness of her form.
The marks on her forehead are of her mother's clan; in his opinion, Michiko has no business flaunting them. They, along with the ugly scarring, make Michiko look more like the kind of shinobi one would find in Kirigakure than Konoha.
Hiruzen dismisses the thought woefully from his mind. He has no business questioning the loyalty of his somewhat mysterious niece.
The girl in question has let her head rest back against the chair, eyelids heavy with the temptation of sleep. She nods off, mere seconds before a light knock on the door signals the medics arrival.
She jerks awake almost violently, fingers digging into the wood.
Hiruzen places his pipe on the table, eyeing his niece curiously with his eyebrows raised in a vague impression of surprise.
"Enter." His old, hoarse voice is steady. The door squeaks open, revealing a young, dark haired woman who cautiously bows in greeting to the Hokage and immediately catches sight of the large gash on Michiko's face. She freezes at the sight of it, and somewhere behind her Kakashi's low baritone voice floats through, "I told you it was bad."
Michiko eyes the girl with concern, "Can you fix it?" She sounds as tired as she feels and is relieved when the medic nods determinedly and makes her way into the room. Kakashi's tall frame fills up the doorway soon after, nodding to the Hokage in a respectful greeting.
"I will have to disinfect it first. This will sting." The medic explains gently, pouring something onto a swap of cotton. As she begins to dab it across the scar, Michiko clenches her jaw and eventually begins to hiss and grit her teeth.
"Holy fuck." She rasps.
The medic attempts nervously to console her, "It will stop burning in a few seconds." She reassures her, "Count to 10."
"Like fuck am I counting to ten." Michiko snaps, clenching her fists.
Her face feels like it is being pricked and penetrated by 100 needles. The sensation leaves her skin hot and raw.
Kakashi watches cautiously, noting the looseness of his former teammates very controlled tongue. He is amused but chooses to conceal this given that Hiruzen looks pertinently disapproving.
The thought crosses Kakashi's mind; Michiko seems to have absorbed some of Kirigakure into her being- her messy appearance, the scarring, the looseness of her tongue- everything seems…symbolic.
The soft and calming voice of the unperturbed medic rouses him from his thoughts.
"There. Now this might feel a little strange, but it won't hurt." The woman raises a small, callous-free hand over Michiko's cheek just as it is surrounded by a warm green glow.
Michiko bites her lip, pre-empting pain and just manages to hold in an embarrassing groan as the pressure builds on her wound in an oddly comforting way. Soon, her face is thrumming with chakra, her skin healing and growing, knitting into itself. The sensation is oddly pleasing, in that strange drowsy way that makes one want to curl up and sleep.
She is tempted to scratch her face and stop the process, but ultimately refrains and clenches her eyes shut.
"it's healing nicely." The medic adds, filling in the silence. Michiko clenches her jaw again and refrains from making any snappy comments.
"It's going to leave a scar." Observes Hiruzen, posing a statement rather than asking a question. The medic briefly glances at him, her dark eyes knowledgeable and humbled, "Yes, it will, Hokage-sama."
Kakashi leans against the doorframe, waiting patiently for the skin to heal. From his vantage point, he can make out the dark mark that is forming across her face like a shadow. It is shaped almost like a 'T', starting over the bridge of her nose, running across her skin just below her eye, while another arm cuts downwards toward her jaw; a weird, tilted T
While watching her, Kakashi has made note of the two red dots on Michiko's forehead and decides he will have to ask her about those later. They make her look almost…archaic. Kakashi has only seen the marking in old photographs in the Anbu records of wanted individuals from her mother's clan- now all deceased.
Silence fills the room again as they wait patiently for the medic to finish her task.
Somewhere in the quiet, Michiko's tired eyes find Kakashi's and for a minute they behold each other in a stare-off. As he retains eye contact with her, he realises that Michiko isn't really looking at him, she looks lost. His mind begins to swarm with questions about what she has witnessed; he doesn't miss the vulnerability in her usually warm and shielded gaze; throughout their journey she has been openly frazzled and jumpy.
Michiko is distracted by the Hatake and wishes that Kakashi was not so familiar to her- she finds comfort in his consistency to look bored and uninterested.
As her gaze switches to Hiruzen who is watching her with rather hawk-like sharpness, she feels a wave of emotion- sorrow and guilt, as she thinks of all she has put her old and loving uncle through.
"…" Her lips part as if to speak, but ultimately her words fail and resigns to silence.
"There. It's done. Please try not to disturb the skin for the next hour or so." The medic steps away and repacks her bottle of antiseptic, tossing the used cotton swab in a bin under the desk.
"That will be all?" She asks Michiko again, knowingly.
The younger Sarutobi gives the medic a warning look that says, 'Don't you dare say anything about my other injuries.'
The medic retreats once she realises Michiko will not admit to having her other injuries looked at.
"Well, we'll know where to find you." Kakashi speaks as he moves out of the doorway for the medic to pass through, "Thank you, Nina-kun."
'Nina-kun?' Michiko's sharp ears pick-up on Kakashi's oddly comfortable and endearing tone of voice and her eyes shoot instinctively to the pair.
She is curious now.
As Kakashi returns to the door, he is caught off guard by Michiko's wide-eyed and pointed stare. She immediately looks away.
"Kakashi, thank you for completing this mission in a timely fashion. You are dismissed."
The man nods in acknowledgment and steps out of the office silently, gently shutting the door behind him. He sprints down the hall to catch up with Nina, the medic, resigned to convince her to have breakfast with him this morning.
Nina is a timely distraction from the woman he leaves behind in the Hokage's office.
"How old are you now, Michiko?"
Hiruzen turns his attention to a document on the table, pointedly avoiding looking at his niece's face as he finds a particularly interesting document.
"19 as of last month."
"Then by Konoha legislation, you are legally an adult." He looks up at her with a sharp and indiscernible glimmer in his eyes.
"Yes…?" Michiko is visibly confused, her dark eyebrows furrowed as she gives her uncle a questioning look.
"Then you are no longer under my care. And you are heir to your father's property."
"Oh." Michiko had forgotten all about it; her old family home sitting empty and barren.
She has not visited it since her father's death.
"You are also acquitted from the anbu in lieu of your new role as a member of division Hime."
She nods, only able to accept what her uncle is throwing at her. The exhaustion weighs heavily on her mind, and her body aches for rest.
"As a member of division Hime, you will report directly to me. Do you understand?"
"I understand."
"Your responsibility is the safety and protection of four-year-old jinchuuriki, Uzumaki Naruto."
She registers the name somewhat sluggishly as the sweet essence of drowsiness overwhelms her. For a few seconds, she stifles a yawn before slowly responding in acknowledgment, "Hai, Hokage-sama."
Her uncle leans back in his chair and knits his fingers together, "A lot has changed since you have been gone Michiko." He heaves a slow sigh, "You will find certain changes…shocking. But I will leave you to discover those on your own. Here." He slides a document across the desk, "This is your father's will, in which he has left you his home, and all the possessions therein."
She has no idea really, what is waiting for her in Konoha. She blinks a few times, her eyes tempted to stay shut as she eyes the document, taking it gingerly in the fingers of her left hand.
"It will interest you to know that the house was built by Senju Tobirama." Hiruzen adds wryly, watching his niece perk up curiously even in her exhausted state, "Many of the things in the house were originally his."
"I did not know we were related." Michiko says slurring her words gently, "That means a branch of the Hatake family is also related to us too, isn't it?"
"There is only one branch remaining." Hiruzen says dryly, "And yes, it is."
So…Kakashi and I are cousins?
Michiko is side-tracked, leaving her uncle to make some observations.
Besides his initial observations of her, her skin is also marked with pallor, she has lost a substantial amount of weight as her cheekbones have never looked to sharp, and her eyes are rimmed with darkened skin. He can see the faint yellow of a healing bruise on her forehead.
"Tell me what you learned in Kirigakure." Hiruzen starts, startling her into an alert state. Her twitchiness makes him curious as to her experience, and he hopes that she will shed some light on her somewhat miraculous escape.
With one silent look at her uncle, she ducks her head as the feelings of confusion sorrow and anger resurface. She doesn't know where to start.
"I learned about all the things you already knew." Her voice is so quiet, it is almost as if she is whispering at him from across his desk. Hiruzen has to strain his ears to hear her clearly.
"And what, pray tell, are those things?" Revealing nothing but curiosity, the old man cleverly fishes for more information while revealing nothing.
She looks up at her uncle. She recognizes the look in his eyes, 'My lips are sealed.'
She wonders why, for a lifetime, her uncle never once addressed her bitterness towards her mother if he knew the truth. She fathoms only that he wanted to keep the secrets of Kirigakure from her. Why, she may never understand.
The Sarutobis sit in silence.
"I learned that my mother died at the hands of Kiri's government, and that Kirigakure holds no remaining Kaguya. They are all dead."
"Hmm." Hiruzen nods silently, purposefully asking, "And no allies of your mother's clan remain?"
"No." A lie. One that she feels no need to elaborate on. Her alliances are now her secret to keep.
"And how did you escape?"
"Some of the seven swordsmen turned against the Mizukage."
As if on cue the door to Hiruzen's office is thrown open in defiance, clattering noisily against the wall by the heavyset and angsty Danzo. Michiko has not sensed him approaching, as he keeps his chakra hidden well.
She wonders if he has been eavesdropping on their entire conversation.
"What a surprise," He says, his heavy, croaky voice irritating her, "Welcome back to Konoha, young Sarutobi."
Michiko doesn't hold back any venom as she silently, tiredly glares at him.
"I invited him." Hiruzen states flatly, "We must both hear what the state of Kirigakure is."
"It's prisons are dark and damp." Michiko responds, mimicking her uncle's flat tone, "What else would you like to know?"
"For starters." Danzo takes a seat on the chair next to her and turns to face her, eyeing the partially concealed red mark on her forehead, "How did you escape?"
"There was a moment of chaos in Kiri's prison. I took advantage of it." Michiko keeps her eyes trained on her uncle. Her eyes are narrowed as if to say 'Why the fuck is this asshole here?'
"And how did you uncover the great gift your mother left you?"
Of course, he noticed my forehead. Fucking prick.
Gritting her teeth, Michiko glances at him quickly and reverts her gaze to her uncle, "It was in my blood, Danzo-sama."
She reveals nothing.
If Michiko was mild before she left Konoha, none of that mildness has remained. The venom in her voice is clear, and her disrespect for the senior is blatant in her tone.
Hiruzen silently reprimands her with his narrowed gaze, aware of the trap Danzo is attempting to lay for her, the old man continues to grate on her nerves, "So, did returning to Kirigakure feel like homecoming for you?"
Gripping the arms of her seat, there is a tiny imperceptible crack in the wood as she attempts to keep herself from having an outburst. The three shinobi act like they haven't heard the sound.
"No."
Danzo has always irked Michiko, since her recovery from her kidnapping, he has been at her heals to catch her out on some kind of betrayal towards Konoha.
With the knowledge she now has of Danzo, she cannot help but perceive an element of foreboding in the air around him, as if he were about to commit some heinous crime.
Michiko is no seer, but her newfound knowledge has sharpened her view of Konoha.
There is only the maddening sound of drops, repeatedly, for hours on end. Michiko hears nothing but the constant 'drip, drip, drip' and the occasional inhumane groans and moans from the other prisons. Food appears sometimes, barely visible in the single light that is lit somewhere far down the hall from her cell.
It smells coppery and thick, as if someone has been left to bleed out. Sometimes one can hear rats, and when she sleeps, Michiko sometimes wakes to the feeling of fur on her limbs. She flails in the dark, trying to keep them away.
Her chakra is oppressed by the heavy stone of her shackles. Her body is effectively useless.
It does not help that she has endured hours of torture- some of her teeth have been pulled, patches of her hair are missing, deep burns mark her limbs- but she has endured it all with silence until someone has ordered her away to this cell, to rot.
The pain has subsided now, numbed by the acceptance of a quiet, dark death in a forgotten chamber in a foreign country. She has been in Kirigakure for 3 months- but she has no way to keep track of time, save for the aching hunger and the thirst that comes between the single meal provided to her.
Then, one day, her cell is unlocked. A cloaked, masked man enters with a lantern so bright it hurts her eyes, and she recoils, frightened.
He stands before her and stares, without greeting, without explanation. Then leaves.
Although her vision is bleary from the darkness and malnutrition, Michiko recognizes that shade of orange so vividly imprinted on her memory that she falls into a delusional trance and begins to shake.
But the man is gone.
He doesn't return for a long time.
Hiruzen observes the white skin of her knuckles and understands his niece's anger- but now is not the time for her to lose her calm.
"That is enough Danzo. We have established already that Michiko had no role in anything except helping the mole escape and giving away her own position."
"Tell us what happened after that." Hiruzen probes, resting an arm on his desk.
"I was captured by one of the swordsmen. I lost consciousness, I thought I was dead." She glances down at her feet, pressing the heels of her shoes into the floor, "When I woke up I was in a cell in a dark prison. I don't know how long I was in there until I got out."
"How did you get out?" Danzo asks.
"Some of the swordsmen turned against the Mizukage and released the prisoners to piss him off."
"How convenient." Danzo muses loudly, glancing towards the Hokage as if to communicate something, "And no one aided your escape to Tea Country?"
"Honestly, I don't even know how Kakashi found me there. I barely knew where I was myself. When I got out, all I did was run."
Another lie. But it works, Danzo buys it, chuckling to himself as if to say 'Coward.'
"Pardon me, Hokage-sama." She says pointedly, "Why am I being questioned like this?"
"Because my darling," Hiruzen exclaims with amusement, "You are the first person to get out of Kirigakure alive. Our mole is dead. She was killed overnight, a week after arriving in Konoha."
Michiko is startled, "What?"
"Precisely. We will wait and see if someone tries to kill you too."
When the masked man returns, Michiko is a weightless slump. She lifts her head to stare at him, almost blinded by the lantern as he places it in a corner, and proceeds to unshackle her.
She hasn't touched her food in a week.
"Come, Michiko." The depth of his voice rouses her to some alertness, but only enough to weakly grasp his shoulders as he hoists her like a child in his arms, "Look at you. Pathetic."
He takes the lantern, squatting easily to pick it. The woman is light, almost nothing.
As he carries her out, he feels her attempting to speak, but her throat is so dry she sounds a mere croak.
Michiko knows the moles will not out themselves while Konoha is watching for them. She also knows that no one will come after her; her escape from Kirigakure is no accident.
"If they know you know Kiri has moles in Konoha, they won't kill me because that would confirm their presence and possibly their identities."
"Yes. You are correct." Hiruzen hums, eyeing Danzo who seems to be lost in thought.
Danzo sits forward in his seat, "Do you think we should behave as though we think there is no danger lurking in Konoha?"
"No that's not what I-" before she can continue, Hiruzen has held up his hands, palms forward, silencing both individuals before they can get into a spat.
"We will observe what happens. Michiko will be under Anbu supervision until then." He nods to himself as he speaks, "Michiko, go home and rest. Go straight home, nowhere else."
"You mean my apartment, right?"
"Yes. I had it looked after in your absence."
Michiko nods silently, taking the rolled up will as she stands up. She bows respectfully to the Hokage, and a little stiffly towards Danzo.
"I will be seeing you around." Hiruzen says to her as she trails to the door and lets herself out.
Outside the smoky office, the corridor is stuffy and dim. There is a window at the other end, and a view of some bobbing branches and leaves, and the sun rising behind a thick set of clouds. Illuminated pink, the corridor suddenly looks ethereal.
She zones out for a moment, remembering the memory of warmth, the itchy material of a cloak, a bright mask, the sound of mocking laughter.
She snaps back to the present, and taking a deep breath, she walks quickly to the set of stairs at the end of the hall, glances once out the window and hops down the steps until she is on the deserted ground floor.
She can feel someone tailing her and she glances over her shoulder only to see the stairs looking lonely and dismal.
Shrugging to herself, she continues to the set of double doors and pushes them open to set foot back into the village centre.
Already, her paranoia is setting in. She imagines that she can feel someone breathing down her neck. She rubs a sweaty palm against the nape of her neck, rolling her shoulders as she feels the stiffness set into her muscles.
They're cramping.
As she trudges tiredly down the long and empty high street, she wonders how long it will take her to get home.
Summoning the remains of her energy, she sprints into a small alley and climbs up the building at the end, using an old shortcut that leads her to the back of her apartment building.
It helps, to feel the burning pain in her muscles. It keeps her grounded to the present.
Huffing and panting, wiping sweat from her brows, she climbs gingerly up the stairs like a slow civilian and is surprised to find Kakashi at the door with a set of keys in hand.
"Hey. I thought you'd need this."
He tosses the keys and she barely manages to catch them. "Thanks, taichou."
"No problem. Look after yourself." He says as he walks past her to take his leave.
"I need to look after you until you are well."
She can feel his clammy hand on her forehead, as she lays under a heavy blanket- a new kind of prison. Her body aches and the temptation of a restful sleep lures her slowly towards it.
"I will introduce you to someone who will help you learn more about your powers. And I will share some of my own secrets with you… We are friends now, aren't we?"
The bizarre sentence is followed by a chuckle that does not fit the heavy voice addressing her. Her body feels immobile. There is a needle in her arm, providing her body with absent nourishment.
A new kind of prison, indeed.
"Ne, taichou."
The man pauses and turns to look at her over his shoulder, "Yes, Michiko?"
"Thank you for bringing me back." She says earnestly.
Nodding silent goodbyes, they part ways. Kakashi disappears quietly down the steps and is out of the building before Michiko can get her key into the lock. Her hand quivers so much, she has to steady it with the other.
Cursing under her breath, she struggles with the keys until she is able to unlock the door and barges impatiently into the still apartment.
Everything is in place- the little coffee table, her green couch, her bed, the picture frames, the books. In the corner where the open kitchen is located, everything is in order- there are no unwashed dishes left behind by her, the fridge hums happily in its place, the sink gleams as if someone has recently scrubbed it clean.
There isn't a single speck of dust on any of the surfaces. Taking a little time to appreciate how clean her tiny home is, Michiko takes a deep breath and focuses on the feeling of her sandals on the wooden floor.
"Welcome home." Michiko mumbles to herself, immediately pacing to the bathroom and stripping herself of her borrowed clothing.
The bathroom is as clean as the rest of the studio flat; the sink and tiles gleam, there are no unpleasant musty smells.
Making a mental note to thank her uncle for having the place maintained in her absence, Michiko busies herself with hunting down her shampoos and soaps. Everything has been placed in the little cabinet by the sink.
As she fetches her shampoo, she catches sight of her bare form in the mirror above the sink, and stares at the scars littered across her shoulders and her chest. She runs a hand over them and over the nape of her neck.
And when her eyes travel up to the reflection of her own face, she fails to recognise herself.
Michiko was always a soft looking child with keen eyes. Her cheeks always retained some kind of roundness that gave her an air of innocence. Now, her cheeks seem hollowed. Her nose is narrow and sharp, her eyes deep set and tired and the long trellises of dark hair that twist over her shoulders and down her back, longer than they have ever been before.
The most startling addition for her is the bright crimson circles resting above her eyebrows, in the centre of her forehead.
They look bright, like perfectly circular spots of welled-up blood. She leans closer to the mirror to inspect them- around the spots, she can see very faint traces of her veins and capillaries.
She touches the spots, surprised to feel nothing but smooth skin.
"I'm filthy." She says aloud, to distract herself, "I need a shower."
And just like that, she turns away from her reflection. She steps into the shower cabin and turns the water on full pressure, drowning out the silence. The sound of water fills her ears and is oddly comforting. She relishes in the feeling of clean, cold water against her skin and the familiar scents of her soap and shampoo welcome her home.
She forgets, momentarily, about the information pressing on her nerves. She forgets about 'Madara' the strange masked man in Kirigakure, she forgets about Mangetsu, she forgets about her mother's clan. She remembers only that she is in the shower, in her dingy little apartment in Konoha and that it is nearly 8 AM and her bed has fresh sheets waiting for her courtesy of her uncle's cleaners.
After she is done, she steps out, dripping water all over the floor as she fumbles for a clean towel from the cabinet. Towelling herself, she ignores her reflection in the mirror and emerges back into her room, her long hair leaving a trail of water behind her.
She fishes out a clean t-shirt, and some loose cotton pants, ignoring the slightly musty smell coming from the closet.
"Looks like I'll have to do a wash soon."
As the towel drops to her feet, she considers hauling her clothes down to the laundromat down the road. Deciding she is too tired for it, she pulls the shirt over her head, her breasts sore from the makeshift bandage bra she had been using in Kirigakure. They are relieved to be free.
Picking up the towel, she brings her hair over her shoulder and dries it slowly, squeezing water from the tips as she gently towels it.
"Time for me to get into bed."
Of course, she thinks that there might be an assassin or two calling on her, but all that can wait. Already the probability is low, and there are Anbu stationed all around her flat, on the small balcony, over the roof- she can sense them as surely as her own heartbeat.
As she slides into the blanket and settles her head against the soft, familiar pillow, it takes only a few seconds for her to drift off to sleep.
She wakes mere seconds later, and someone is standing at the foot of her bed.
They are just as startled to see her awake as she is to see them.
She recognises the Kiri Anbu mask and lunges off the bed, drawing a long staff from seemingly nowhere. Its appearance surprises the man, and before she can lunge at him with it, someone attempts to get a thin string around her neck from behind. She hears it cutting through the air and drops low, kicking the attacker's feet out from beneath him as the second one jumps towards her.
She means to cut him with the sharp end of the white staff in her hand, but she is too slow and has to dodge his attack.
"Who are you?!" She yells as she sprints and ducks to dodge the punches and kicks he throws at her. The attacker is considerably skilled; he pries a blade and with one hand behind his back, attacks her. She just manages to dodge, and once she sees an opening, she stabs him with the sharp end of her staff through his forearm.
When she pulls the staff free, the man does not as much as flinch, or make a sound. He just continues, so she parries then manages to dislodge the short blade from his hand.
It goes flying and embeds itself in a decorative Uchiwa that Shisui gifted her some years ago.
"Fuck you!" Michiko hisses shrilly, using her staff to propel herself up and towards the man in a powerful kick. She knocks him to the other side of the room.
As he crashes into the small coffee table and upturns her sofa, the other attacker comes at her from behind again, but she impales his stomach with her staff; the scarlet glimmers in the daylight streaming through her curtains.
"One Hundred Needles!"
In a strange vision, white bits of bone begin to protrude from her skin. They move lightning fast, like the needles of a porcupine and impale the man to the wall in a bloody mess, faster than the eye can blink.
The other man has gotten up shakily, and pushes himself onto his feet, seeing an opening as Michiko is engaged with using her kekkei genkai.
As he moves to stride towards her, a hand bursts through his chest, blooding exploding from his body and splattering the floor and the walls.
Michiko whips around at the guttural sound and is painted by hot flecks of blood. The warm liquid stuns her, and as the body collapses, she is met by the singular gaze of the masked man.
"M…M…Madara." She stutters as he walks past her and finishes off the second man pinned to the wall, twisting his neck until he is satisfied by the crack and pop of his bones.
Only then does he pause to regard Michiko, "I told you we could rely on each other."
"How did you know they would be here?" Her voice shakes.
"I followed them." He wipes a fleck of blood from her cheek, and on instinct Michiko wipes her face with the back of her hand, smudging bright scarlet across her face.
"Fuck." She groans, eyeing the body on the floor. Obito watches her quietly and then speaks very carefully.
"These men are not from Kirigakure. Check their tongues."
And just as mysteriously as he has appeared, he vanishes, swallowed by the air.
"What?"
Realising she is talking to the silence she drops to the floor and pries the mask off the dead man. Ignoring his lifeless eyes, she parts his mouth with her fingers and pulls out his tongue, surprised to find a tattoo across it.
She frowns.
"What is that?" Looking up towards the door, she begins to shout, "WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE ANBU?"
Not a sound is heard in response, except the vague shuffle of a crow across the sill of her window.
Exasperated, she strides to her bedside table and angrily pulls open the drawer to fetch a small device with a button on it.
Clicking it several times in impatience, she buzzes Headquarters for an emergency.
As she turns to assess the damage to her flat, her eyes land on the impaled Uchiwa on the wall. One of her favourite decoration pieces.
She approaches it and attempts to pull the blade out, although she is successful, the Uchiwa is now split down the middle. She drops it to the floor.
"Fucking Root." She hisses, as she puts together where she has seen that mark on the tongue before- Tenzo has it too.
"Fuck Danzo!" She growls, just as the door of her apartment is thrown wide open by a frantic blonde who barges into the flat without a hint of stealth.
"Michiko-sama!"
Michiko turns to glare at the young man, fixing him with the most threatening look he has ever seen in his life. He immediately regrets entering first. He is followed by a chubby brunette, Kokuro Akimichi. Michiko recognises him immediately; they are her uncle's 'errand boys'- that is what Asuma and her used to call them when they were younger.
"What the fuck are you two doing her?" She barks. She does not care much for respect given the situation.
Kokuro responds calmly, wiping sweat from his brow as he assuages his panicked companion, "We were sent by Hokage-sama to escort you to the Sarutobi residence."
"You'll have to wait." Calls a third familiar voice, as Kakashi ducks into the room, sweeping over the damage and the two bodies. He is followed by a masked man that Michiko immediately recognises as Tenzo.
"Great, so everyone just decides to show up at my flat? What, am I throwing a fucking party?"
Kakashi ignores her comment, "Mah, Michiko, what have you done?"
A question that has been caught in her throat escapes in a rather snarky way, "Where was Anbu?!"
Although she knows it is not Kakashi's fault, she can't help the frustration nor can she keep her mouth from revealing her anger.
"I don't know, they should have been positioned outside your apartment."
"They were there when I went to sleep." She crosses her arms, "And conveniently disappeared when these two jackasses showed up."
As more Anbu members arrive to clean up the scene, she spots the morgue workers and moves to speak with them.
They are silent and strange, nodding quietly and almost too obediently as Michiko tells them that they should send her the autopsy reports; they will extract secrets from these bodies through some extremely morbid jutsus. She wants to know what they know.
It is starting to get warmer in the room with the number of people cramped inside, and the air begins to stink of that telling metallic scent that will only sour with time.
Kakashi is listening carefully to her conversation with the other Anbu as he crouches down and examines the hole through the man's chest.
'Michiko doesn't have blood on her fists or arms.' He observes, eyeing the girl. He turns his attention to the second body, noting the way it is pinned to the wall with shards of bone.
He cringes at the sight of the broken skin and the thickening blood that is still dripping onto the floor from the man's wounds.
'Safe to say Michiko probably was not alone.' But who she could have been with, Kakashi cannot say.
Tenzo stands deathly still by the door, watching the events in the room unfold. He follows Michiko as she inches into the kitchen to drink some water.
"Hello Michiko-chan."
She is startled by his greeting, the mug nearly jumping out of her hand. She takes a moment to steady herself before she responds, "Hello Tenzo."
Her jumpiness does not go unnoticed, and Tenzo cannot help but feel pity for the girl.
"Sorry to meet you on such a morbid occasion." She says quietly, taking a large gulp of water to soothe her nerves. It doesn't help.
"How are you feeling?" He asks, albeit stiffly, in a manner that is very usual for him. Michiko eyes him nervously, "I feel sick."
"Understandable. That's a lot of blood to clean."
"I can't imagine they'll be able to get it all out of the floorboards." She finishes her drink and turns to the faucet to fill up her mug again, "To think I had just felt like I was home again." She laughs bitterly, and the sentence does not escape Tenzo's observation; he notes the eeriness of her words and the bitterness of her tone.
Hiruzen has warned them that Michiko will need time to be re-assimilated into Konoha. Now, Tenzo imagines the need for assimilation is worse.
"Taichou," He calls gently, turning his attention to Kakashi, who has just finished speaking with the morgue men as they seal the bodies into scrolls to be taken away.
"Tenzo." The man calls back, hands on his hips as he watches the men scuffle out of the room as unceremoniously as they arrived, "What's up?"
"Torufu and Akimichi-san need to escort Michiko back to the Sarutobi residence."
"What? Seriously?" Michiko is exasperated, she slams the mug down on her counter, "I am not going anywhere."
"Michiko, there's blood everywhere. You can't possibly want to stay here until it's all cleaned up." Kakashi reasons calmly, standing before her and placing his palms on her shoulders as a placating gesture. From this close, he realises how tired she is, and that she's missing some teeth.
'Kami, what did they do to you in Kiri?'
Kakashi reasons with her again, his baritone voice soothing and commanding, "Now come on, get your belongings together and go with Torufu and Akimichi." He tries to sound as little as if he's giving an order, but he can't help the sense of command in his voice. Dumbly, Michiko nods and slips out of his grasp to grab some things that she needs.
Tenzo and Kakashi exchange a concerned look through their masks.
As she slides open the closet, she is greeted by the orange mask embedded in the wall. 'Madara' startles her, and she panics for a moment thinking someone else will spot him, but the men are all busy talking amongst themselves.
"Kakashi knows something." He whispers, "Be careful what you tell him about your attackers, he won't believe you."