HTSYAL Chapter 3
One of the requirements for entering the academy was stamina. It was a fair expectation, seeing as missions could have you fighting or running for hours. Still, even with my body revealing itself to be an athletic build, I just couldn't really get into the whole 'let's run multiple laps for fun'. I think the key part was 'fun'; pointlessly draining myself was about as enjoyable as it was in my last life- which was not at all. Reluctantly, I tagged along with Ino's morning runs as often as I could and snuck peeks at the basic taijutsu her father was beginning to teach her. I think her dad just tolerated the awkward spying because I was his niece.
It was a year until we were eligible to enter the Academy and my parents weren't any closer to letting me enrol. Ino was chatting to me excitedly about all the mysterious techniques her dad was going to teach her when she becomes a genin. Leave it to Ino to be looking so far ahead, Masashi didn't do her optimism justice. My mind told me I was being whiny, but the 4 year old brain it was residing in had some pretty compelling arguments about how much my situation sucked. So while my mind and body were separate, it seems my brain and mind were not. My maturity and experience having to constantly fight off my brains childish instincts was like a never ending war. It was like two people trying to drive a car and sometimes I forgot to take back the wheel. Though I suspected it was the existence of my child self that was keeping me from frying all my unprepared brain cells. Ino must have caught on to my sulky mood because as we sat on the swings she frowned at me.
"What's up blowfish?" She asked, slowing her swinging to match my melancholy pace. Immune to her nickname I answered hollowly. Frankly, I felt it was better than billboard brow – but hey, that nickname would get the spotlight soon.
"I wanna be a ninja." Ino snorted and went back to watching the other girls play in the flowers while she swung lazily.
"Then be ninja, dumb-dumb." She said, laughing at my simple answer. I slowed to a stop and looked at the other kids. Ino loved flowers and she was responsible for teaching pretty much all the girls in the village how to make daisy chains. Still, here she was sitting with the sulky allergic kid and listening to me complain. Suddenly, I didn't feel like the grown up one here.
"I can't." I said with a defeated sigh. She skidded to a stop next to me and looked at me questioningly.
"Why not?" I glanced at her but quickly decided to look at the dirt at my feet. Her Yamanaka genes were showing and her eyes had that sharp searching look in them. Trying to keep something from Ino was like fighting Itachi Uchiha – you don't. You do not attempt to fight the Uchiha or the Yamanaka, because you cannot win. And hell, you shouldn't want to fight them. Itachi was actually a damn good man underneath those stress lines on his face – and that concerned Yamanaka is your best friend who's complacently listening to your boring complaints.
"Is it because you're allergic to pretty things?" She teased, though her question still hung in her eyes. I grumbled something back half-heartedly. My response had her getting off her swing with a huff and stopping in front of me.
"Hey Ruka." I kicked at the dirt, desperate to not meet her eyes. She shrugged and changed tactics.
"Earth to blowfish."
"Mhm?"
"Why don't you want to be a ninja like your uncle?" She asked casually, patiently awaiting my reaction. She didn't have to wait long as I snapped my head up to correct her.
"I didn't say that! I said I couldn't become a ninja." I grasped frantically at the air trying to pluck the right words out of the sky. She stared inquisitively down at me and I felt the need to lower my head down once more.
"…I don't want you to go on without me. I can help too." I finally relented, looking up at her. Her eyes softened and she sat down on the swing again. She was silent for a while, just staring at the afternoon sky.
Guilt washed over me as I realised that I was bothering a 4 year old with my career problems. There really wasn't anything she could do to help me- even if we were cousins. I was being immature about the whole ninja thing, but I wasn't about to give up. It just didn't sit well with me that decisions about my life were being made for me. Nevertheless, having your parents decide whether to send you to an academy that graduating from is likely to have you killed, or a boring but safe civilian school, isn't exactly strange. I didn't care about where my parents took me for kindergarten in my last life, but my actual young age may have contributed to my lack of care. This time around, I am fully conscious and critical of their decisions. In a way, they were unknowingly caging me in because they naturally thought I wasn't capable of making my own choices. Which rationally, is pretty fair- if you exclude the fact I'm a grown woman (well I was physically in my last life at least) who has an opinion on what life path's she'd like to keep available. Even so, I'm also robbing a perfectly nice couple of the experience of raising a normal child and instead proposing the option of taking on a career that comes with all kinds of fun confidentiality and mortality problems. Family gatherings would be loads of fun;
'Hey honey, how was work this last week?'
'It was great mum, I killed someone.'
'Oh. Why?'
'Sorry woman that risked her own life pushing me into existence, telling you would compromise the village's confidentiality and I would have to eliminate the witnesses. Oh and happy birthday, for y'know, the last 3 I missed while off recovering a rich woman's cat. Merry Christmas!'
Yeah, real family goals right there. It was like a slogan to a cheap 80s board game; 'Ninja life, a career choice none of the family can enjoy!'
Nonetheless, my point was that my parents didn't exactly hit the jack pot when they had me. Or well, hit any kind of luck at all. I mean, any other kid probably would have been satisfied with my parent's careful preparing and just happily become a safe civilian like they dreamed. But I wasn't just any kid, in fact, I really just wasn't a kid at all. And to my parents, that's probably the worst thing I could be. My parents weren't bad people, possibly emotionally crippled by PTSD from from their line of work, but good, caring parents that want the best for their child. Sending your kid into a career with a high death rate isn't exactly model parenting. But hey, it's the Naruto Universe, where clan children are conditioned for the battlefield from the moment they are born.
The ninja world really just wasn't some playground that everything magically worked out in. Even if the series seemed light hearted and carefree on the surface, characters still died. Main characters, favourites, supports you never realised you liked until they died and civilians by the mass. Except now, in this life, they weren't just characters to me anymore, and I wasn't just reading a comic to kill some time. Inami and Saito, my parents, could perish in the next war. They could also be the victims of a random stabbing or taken by illness- the cause didn't matter to me all that much. These were more than faces on a page to me, I could feel them, talk to them, love them and even hurt them. Just by being born in this time, I have lost the chance to save people or prevent wars, but I still had time. Maybe I couldn't save Gaara from the damage his childhood will scar him with, Sasuke will almost definitely leave the village one way or another and maybe the third Hokage will still die. But I didn't even know if that's what I was supposed to do. Hell, did I even have a purpose? Or was I just some mistake that was actively ripping apart time and space with the paradox of my existence by literally just breathing?
I, uh, really hope it's not the latter. 'Paradox' just isn't something I want on my resume.
It still didn't change my perspective though. If I was going to reborn into the Naruto world, then I was going to enjoy it. I didn't have this great illusion of changing the Naruto world; there is only so much things you can change with the status of a normal civilian. If I'm going to ever want to change any course of events, I'm going to need to be in positions of power or trust. If those close to me are going to be safe from unfortunate events relating to the Naruto storyline, then I want to make sure the information I have can actually be used.
"Why can't you?" Ino finally asked. She wasn't looking at me, but I still felt as if every single one of my movements were being noted on.
"It's my parents. They want me to go to a normal school."
"What's wrong with being normal?" she asked, turning to me. I let my eyes grudgingly trail up to meet her inquisitive gaze.
"There's nothing bad about wanting to be normal – I just don't want to be. Besides, the concept of normality is all about perspective, and from say, a ninja clans view; being a ninja is normal." I began to explain but I trailed off when I saw complete confusion cloud over her blue eyes.
Dammit brain, 4 year olds aren't exactly comprehensive of complicated philosophical concepts yet. Stop confusing small children.
I mentally face palmed and reassessed my choice of words.
"I want to help people as a ninja. It's not as fun as a normal villager." Her eyes cleared with clarity and she began nodding as if agreeing with a very intelligent statement.
"Yeah, it wouldn't be that fun to be normal. You can't even run a flower or a jewellery or a makeup or a clothes store." Now it was my turn to blink dumbly.
"What? Why can't I?" She looked at me and grinned.
"You can't go near pretty things, remember?" I gasped in mock offense to her comment. Her giggles turned into high pitched cackles as I sucked in some air and blew my cheeks up. I started to chase her around the swings, with my hands to my cheek imitating a perverse blowfish, all the while making raspberries at her.
After Ino's father got over the scene of his daughter laughing like a madwoman while a blowfish chased her around the swing set like a ninja on a mission; I thanked the lord 4 year olds were so easily entertained and went home with new resolve.
I tottered home at a lazy pace, listening to the small but audible taps of ninjas passing by on the rooftops. They were more noticeable than usual, still not really a nuisance, but it seemed the ninja house hopping rush hour was worse than usual. For a moment I panicked, ninjas only abandon stealth for speed when the mission is urgent enough. Stiffly, I attempted to shrug off the cold stone forming in my gut.
Masashi didn't have anything about a crisis in the village while Naruto's generation was still growing up. The third shinobi war was already over, wasn't it? Wait, what shinobi war was this period even up to?
Not for the first time since being reborn, I mentally roundhouse kicked myself in the face. Imagining said awesome move also helped calm me down. Still, the stone in my gut was jagged and bitingly cold.
Masashi created this world. There's no reason for him to leave out a big event that had ninjas in a frenzy right?
I gulped down the saliva no longer forming in my mouth.
Unless it didn't happen in his universe. Unless, something was different this time. Unless, there was something that shouldn't exist.
Oh god, what have I done?
My steps quickened into a jog, sped into a run and hastened in an anxious sprint. My mind was in a disarray and I found myself taking the wrong turns and getting myself lost. I stopped long enough in an open market street for villagers to take notice of my agitated state. The ones that noticed my harsh breathing and watery, panicked eyes, looked around for ninjas. It was only natural, this was a hidden village, a village whose authority lay in ninjas. When something went wrong or looked worth reporting, they stood by the basic survival principle of look toward a higher being for help. It was for nought however, as all the ninjas were either reporting back to the Hokage, or on their way for a night mission – I called this time of evening rush hour for a reason. It would have helped if someone had found the courage to take initiative and pointed me home but I was panicked and border lining nervous wreck so I just raced off when I could feel my legs again.
Thankfully, even if my stamina was still puny, joining in Ino's runs made my mad dashing through the streets possible. It wasn't long before I finally reached familiar areas and I could navigate my way through it. The rush hour had more or less passed and even the unusual amount of traffic had decreased. I allowed myself to breathe but I didn't slow down until I turned the corner onto my home street. A private little residential area with nice houses built for families and no apartments. Rare in such a populated place like Konoha, but it existed nonetheless. It was a perfect place to raise a kid to hide the reality of the world from. Once again kudos to my parent's efforts and points for me for still managing to ruin that. Gods, I'm a real golden kid, aren't I?
Sarcastic thoughts aside, I slowed down to a walk as I took in the features of my house. The front door was wide open and the light from inside was pouring out through the opening. My father stood behind my mother, his height inexplicably looming. My mother Inami was standing in the doors arch way, the golden light bathing her hair and making it sparkle like silk, all the while shadowing the features of her face. The light from the doorway revealed a man in a flak jacket whose lips were just visibly moving. He was speaking quietly and slowly to my parents outside my house and they seemed a world away. I felt like this was a moment I had no right to interrupt so I just stood in the darkness of the growing night, watching as my mother collapsed to her knees. Her shoulders shook but her hands didn't fly to her face to rub away any unseen tears.
Robotically I walked over when the quivering figure of my mother became too much. Closer now, I looked up to the man at our door and was rewarded with a flash of silver from a Konoha head band. It shouldn't have surprised me really, but I still felt the sting of a slap in the face. I looked from my mother's hollow expression to the ninja before me, staring at him almost accusingly. He stared resolutely at nothing and refused to meet my eyes.
I wasn't sure how long we stayed there but none of us were willing to be the first to move. Mum just shook with grief but her eyes only watered torturedly. Dad gripped mum's shoulder tightly, his face lowered and hidden by shadow. I studied the ninjas face. The creases of age, the steely eyes, the hastily pulled back hair and the pained resolution in his eyes. Eventually I felt my dad pull me back into the house and I wearily tore my eyes away from the statue outside our door. My mother picked me up weakly and cradled me in her arms. Her black curls washed over my face and shoulders like a barrier. I watched through layers of her hair as my father quietly said his goodbye and shut the door, sealing us in the bright tomb of our house. It had grown cool from having the door open for so long and we found ourselves frozen once more.
It was my involuntary shiver that broke the ice. My father dropped tiredly into an arm chair and my mother sat on the couch rigidly. I was bustling for questions and I felt them spill over my lip as my mother readjusted me in her arms.
"Who was that? What happened? Was that a real ninja? What happened? What did he say? What did I miss? Aren't you going to say something? What happened? What made everyone so sad? Are you sad? What happened?" My father sighed and put his hands up as if to protect himself from the questions I was throwing at him. He looked at my mother who had her head buried in my shoulder. She wasn't shaking anymore but I felt tears on my sleeve.
"That ninja was here to bring us some…news." My father started, looking immensely uncomfortable. I guess being a psychologist for older ninjas doesn't really teach you how to tell a 4 year old bad news. He avoided my eyes for a time, but determinedly held my gaze once more.
"Uncle Mamoru," suddenly, I could feel the bites of a thousand bullet ants littering my body and I held in a yelp. I didn't, I couldn't hear the next words. I already knew what he was going to say and I could hear my bones rattle in anxiety.
"…He's off – Off on a very long mission." I blinked at his nervous hand gestures.
"And, he won't be coming back for a long time. It's a very long-term mission. Very, very long time." His emphasis on the word long raised more than a few red flags.
"So, you won't be visiting your uncle for a while." He finished and I felt my mother tighten possessively around me. She begun mumbling something into my shoulder and I reflexively hugged her back tighter. She seemed surprised for a moment before she squeezed me back. I laid my head on her neck and her mumbling ceased. My dad came over, sat next to us and put his arms around us. Dad wasn't particularly muscly or even tall, but now, with his arms wrapped around us both, he felt like a titanium fortress, hell-bent on protecting us. All at once, my dad's words sunk in and I wasn't blind to his comforting lies. I didn't mind though, what my parents needed right now was the child they deserved. They didn't need someone who could see through their attempts at protecting their child from the harsh truth – they needed a young daughter, who trusted them and just wanted late evening cuddles. And that was exactly what I resolved to be for them, everything they damned right deserved. Besides, it wasn't out of duty that I cried into my mother's neck or hugged her tightly. Those bullet ants were still on my body, but now reality had them eating away at my heart.
Uncle Mamoru was gone.
(AN:
Okay finally done! Thanks again for reading this and let me know how you thought this chapter went. I'm sorry it's so dark, but the ideas had to be addressed before I could continue. I swear there is a plan to this! I tried to sneak some jokes in, but I felt anymore and it'd be disrespectful to the situation. Also, just to reassure anyone that might have had doubts after reading this chapter, Ruka will become a ninja. Feedback, follows and favourites are appreciated 3)