(A/N): This is the second installment in this series, and i hope that despite the seemingly slow start in these first couple of chapters, that you find something of interest. This chapter is of a slightly greater length, as there were some things, character in-depth wise, that i felt needed to be explored. And as i briefly mentioned in the previous chapter, i'm trying to establish an as broad as possible foundation for Michi's future endeavors. Thank you!
(A/N): Allow me to share with you, the joy i feel as i watch the numbers of views, favorites and followers steadily rise. It is a very pleasant experience, especially as this is my first fic of any kind, and on that note, please read on. Cheers & Thank you!
Owl-Nin Michi
(道): Japanese unisex name meaning "pathway."
"You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough." – Mae West …
"So, I failed then… does that mean I'm bad at life? … shut up" – Distressed prodigal protagonist.
I'm in Konoha.
As in Konoha of The Narutoverse.
Imagine my surprise when I figured that one out. Yeah, let's not.
At first I firmly believed that my father was some sort of cosplayer, since we're in Japan and stuff like that's probably normal, right?
I admit, it took me a few of weeks at first before I came around to the idea, that this might be my new reality. I remember the moment, the moment when I truly realized that i was inhabiting an entire different world, than the one i was used to.
SUPER LONG FLASHBACK
We are sitting in what has become known as our recliner, me in my mother's lap, listening with rapt attention to the story books she had started reading to me (well I kind of forced her to really, since I would wail like there was no tomorrow if she didn't pick up one of the books I was pointing at).
As I was gratefully listening to her, expanding my linguistic prowess (lets go with that). The front door opened and in walked my father decked out in typical shinobi gear. Flak jacket over a deep blue shirt, paired with deep blue shinobi pants, tightened with bandages holding the kunai holster in check as well as around the lower leg and ankles, ending with a pair of blue shinobi sandals.
But what really stood out was the headband, it showcased the Konoha leaf insignia, and it even looked authentic and battleworn with scratches and such, it was truly a piece of work.
Well my dad obviously spent a lot on his cosplay, but hey who am I to judge, I watched a lot of anime in my previous life. My dad may have taken it a step further with the authenticity of his fandom, but to each his own i guess.
"Now, see that's a welcome. Two smart, beautiful and lovely ladies waiting for me when I come home" said my father with his trademark roguish grin, flexing the scar on his face a bit – only adding to his handsomeness. Yep, my mother is a lucky lady.
My mother merely turns her head towards him smiling coyly. And as he is nearing us, leans up and whispers huskily in his ear.
"Hmmphhh… I bet" she says breathing out heavily in my father's ear "that I could make it aaaaaaalll the more interesssssting" she moans on the all, and lightly bites my father's ear as she trails on the s.
And here I am. Sitting front row, witnessing my mother's pent up sexual desires uncap. Well she hasn't been getting any since she had me, that's for sure. I have very diligently seen to that, if a bit unwittingly… So as I kind of get my mother's plight and as I respect that, as a woman to another woman, I'm somehow more my mother's child, than I am a woman understanding the present needs of my mother.
As I see my father's eyes glaze over, I realize it is up to me do derail the situation. I refuse to be mentally scarred moving forward in my new life.
"Oooowooo-waaaa" I squeal slightly louder than necessary. But it does its job, and works as a deterrent for the possible nuclear situation (seriously father have you no self-control?) and though the woman in me feels slightly bad for my mother, I feel justified by the fact that I'm their spawn, and as such gets first right to be happy. Seeing them do the nasty equals me being unhappy. Completely justified.
My father regains his faculties and looks at me, smiling happily if a bit sheepish (no self-control I tell you! Well my mother is a beautiful woman so it's obvious of course). His Roguish smile returns.
"Hmm… what was that my little beautiful Michi, did you call your tou-san? tooooouuu-saaaan" he enunciates meticulously.
They have both been super excited as to what my first word will be. I have been practicing getting the hard sounds out of my baby mouth for some time now. I can feel that this "speechific" (hehe) milestone is one I'll soon crack and then it is but a question of time before I'm truly on my way to greatness… hehe
My mother won't have any of that, thus deciding that it is her name that I should address first. And so she begins to coax me, while I'm mentally reveling in the fantasy of my future ability to speak.
"No, no, no, it's kaaaaa-saaaaaan sweety, you wouldn't want to call that ogre first would you?" mother smiles at me, all the while father looks comically exasperated by the actions of my mother. Despite myself, I giggle, something I haven't done in a while.
It's nice to have family. It's a new kind of warmth.
Father sees me giggle, and snaps me up from my mother's lap. I give my best baby squeal to accommodate his antics.
"Ohhh you think this is funny don't you my little Michi, well I'll give ogre then" and then he starts kissing and gobbling all over my face. It's gross. It's eww. But I still can't stop the laughter that rumbles out of me, as my father continues his theatrics.
He finally relents after a while.
I yawn as I have grown a bit tired from the ministrations. I still don't have any energy for prolonged use… it's infuriating.
He is handing me off to mother again when I see his outstretched arm, sleeve rolled up and the entirety of his underarm covered in bandages, and if I'm not mistaken is that… splotch… blood?
I'm in my mother's lap again, as my father sits down on the opposite couch.
I can feel my little baby stomach starting to churn slightly as I look at his shinobi wear, his worn hitai-ate and the blood adorning the bandages.
Suddenly, the warmth that the moment earlier provided is gone. And a sort of bizarre fascination has taken root, because this is impossible, right? I decide to venture out and ask in the best way that I can manage.
"Wah?" I said in a small voice, my right arm pointing at the bloodied bandages. He looks confused for a moment, then looks down, and clear comprehension dawns on him as he grimaces slightly before looking up at my mother.
My mother looks at the injury with a bit of concern, before proceeding to give my father the scariest face I've yet to see from her, it was so intimidating that had father been any less of a man he would have been singing all he knew under that ever-hardening yet questioning glare.
She doesn't even have to say anything, and in any other situation I would have commended her on how well trained he is, but as I clearly don't possess such linguistic prowess, yet, I merely sit quiet and watches as the show unfold.
"K-K-Keiko, it wasn't l-like that, I was careful, I really was, h-honest" Father stammers out, but mother clearly isn't satisfied by such an inadequate answer, as she demonstrates by merely raising her left eyebrow, causing my father to look like he's about to squeak in fear. A true contrast to his usual stern and macho behavior.
Mothers are scary.
"I-i-it was only a minor holdup, r-really! Some kusa-nin – probably missin-nin – decided to crash the caravan" he slowly regains his manhood through the speech, as his voice steadies.
However, I'm still stuck on kusa-nin and missin-nin, as I feel my stomach churn a bit more as the cold feeling of unfamiliarity grows. My father, obvious to his baby's inner confusion, continues as he was.
"They were decent in number, and not half bad, nobody died, but it was pretty bad. Kazuo, he – you remember him? Yoshitaka Kazuo?" father asks looking at mother.
This entire conversation is so bizarre, yet I sit still and listen raptly. The churning continuing. I absently notice mothers nod as father continues.
"Anyway, our group are surrounded, a few bandits and the presumed group of missin-nin, Kazuo he –, I still don't even really know what went wrong, he got a bad match up against a decent kusarigama user and his kenjutsu using partner, we were outnumbered so we had to deal. The fight is going in our favor and they have just begun retreating when, somehow, Kazuo overextends a bit and they clip the entirety of his right arm and everything from his left knee down." He finishes to silence.
My mind is spinning with the insanity of it all – Forehead protector, flak jacket, bloody bandages, kusa-nin, missin-nin, kusarigama, kenjutsu, right arm, left knee… the churning was becoming downright uncomfortable, as the icy clear picture of my situation dawns upon me.
My mother is silent for minute, before she continues in a concerned yet relieved voice, hardness all gone from her vestige.
"Kusa-nin, missin-nin or not, should not be so close to Konoha. How is it even…" She shakes her head as she trails off. Mother looks at the arm with the bloody bandages.
"Will you be all right?" she asks softly. Father nods and start "Yeah, the medic-nin…" he continues, however I just tune him out right there. My head is literally spinning with this series of world shattering revelations.
Forehead protector, flak jacket, bloody bandages, kusa-nin, missin-nin, kusarigama, kenjutsu, right arm, left knee, Konoha, medic-nin…
I'm in Konoha.
I'm in the Narutoverse.
The churning of my stomach increases.
The cold feeling of uncertainty clears for the icy embrace of certainty.
They must have finished while I was lost to the chaos of my thoughts. Mother rests me against her shoulder, and slowly nuzzles my back with her other arm.
I vomit what little my baby body can manage.
SUPER LONG FLASHBACK END
It has been over a year since the great revelation of my new world. I'm currently one year and six months old – and I'm a downright nuisance to my parents.
I have grown somewhat accustomed to this new world.
I mean, after the initial panicking was conquered, there was a certain freedom, a certain liberation in knowing where you were, as big and chaotic and warring this world was, I knew it, I knew the world of Naruto.
Even if I haven't given much thought to the actual aspect of shinobi life as of yet, not that I needed to, I was only one and a half tops. I knew the lifestyle involved a lot of blood and killing. And while yes, I realize that this new world adheres by a different culture, it will still take some getting used to if not to say the least.
And while I know the world of Naruto, living in it, is an entirely different matter.
I guess it will just take some exposure to the lifestyle and culture to help assimilate myself better. But even as I'm sitting here, only one and a half of age, I know that I couldn't even dream of becoming a civilian in this life, in this world. Make no mistake, I don't hold any disrespect for civilians, you need a lot of different sizes of parts to get the machinery to work after all. And civilians, just like shinobi, are but parts in the greater machinery.
It is just that I know that the future is really bloody, like really really bloody. And it is for one, single, crystal clear reason. Because as of right now, I'm currently enjoying the lull in activity between the second and third shinobi world war.
Yeah.
I have a literal, FREAKING WAR on the horizon!
How do I know this? Easy! Mother and I went grocery shopping and I happened to see the Mount Rushmore rip-off, depicting THREE faces of past and present village leaders. That little adventure combined with rumors of the Sannin my parents discussed, drizzled with a bit of logical thinking and bam we got a time period.
However, how far we are from that fateful mission where Kakashi's father fails the objective to save his teammates, I honestly have no idea. The village is humongous, and the few times I have been outside our apartment, I haven't seen any noteworthy people to grab an estimate from.
And while I know of The Narutoverse and through religious anime watching, having acquired a somewhat loose timeframe of what happens in which sequence. I know next to nothing about the actual timeline.
It is very different living the universe, rather than simply watching it through the telly, or even hitting something up on the internet. Because, while I remember having researched various events a bit online, I only truly have the anime to guide me. And it is vague and murky at the best of times regarding events surrounding my current period.
So, while I can use the anime of my previous life, to atleast draw a rough sketch that I could follow somewhat loosely through my new life, I need to engage with the world around me, if I'm to fill in the blanks of what's likely to come and when – because having actual dates or approximates would greatly help, in helping me, reach old age in this new warring world.
Because as it stands, I'm likely to miss important canon events, simply because I did something else on that specific day. Not much to it really, you just need to be active and know what's going on, if you want to be in the know.
So, if I am to do this, I clearly need to become a shinobi.
And then there is a whole other new can of worms to think about, if by some miracle of god, I happen upon a canonical event, should I mess with it?
Because as it currently stands, the future is a curious consequence of this era's actions and reactions. If I mess with the web that very delicately makes up the future, how much would I mess up, and to what degree would a change be beneficial, considering the cost of the change.
In case I change something pertaining to large scale event's such as the presumed death of Obito, what would be the cost in the end and not say the least, the process towards the end?
The most obvious cost would be the shattering of the knowledge I, myself, holds as an advantage.
I would no longer know who pulled the strings and what abilities the ones who's pulling the strings have – just in terms of sheer jutsu – that thought alone would probably give me anxiety until things cleared up, IF they ever cleared up!
And should a major event such as this be disturbed, wouldn't Madara and Zetsu just find someone else to manipulate towards their respective goals?
*Sigh*
I'm getting a headache of thinking such convoluted thoughts. For all I know, even if I was in a position to do anything, granted I wanted to, I might not even be able to physically alter anything, as the world might see these as some sort of fixed events. I mean just imagine Kakashi with no sharingan. What would the world EVEN look like?
But, as great as all of this thinking through various far-off-in-the-future scenarios are, it doesn't really matter to me right now.
I'm one-and-a-half-years-old, and I am but one cog in a very large machine, so who's to say I'll even be able to influence anything, like at all? For all I know there are literally thousands of shinobi, so many that each major hidden village has double digits in the thousands of shinobi in their ranks. I will be but a pebble in the pond when the shit hits the fan.
These philosophical thoughts are great and all, but won't really get me anywhere, since I first have to become a shinobi and ensure my own survival first.
Because, HEY! I don't remember anyone named Michi in the canon works, which means one of three things.
One, I die before making it very far. Either as a shinobi in war or as a civilian. Yeah… really comforting thoughts there…
Two, I live, but I live a life of such dull mediocrity that I am a perpetual background character. Civilian nor shinobi, nothing about me stands out or makes me interesting enough for canon. Which maybe does solve my philosophical thoughts, but it does leave me feeling rather… pathetic.
Three, Michi has never existed and is therefore unique as me, thus not weighing down my potential future. Option three would obviously be ideal, so as not to be bound by any constraints.
But all of this is moot until I become a shinobi or someone equally as strong.
And while the aspect of killing is something I will likely have to deal with, I at least don't have to deal with it now.
Procrastination is the name of the game.
And with that out of the way, I think I'll go ask mother for some food.
As I'm walking into the kitchen – Yeah, get this, I can WALK now! The sheer euphoria of the moment when I first succeeded can only be likened to the feeling of finally graduating medical school – it's that sort of a high. I giggled like a maniac when I took my first steps, my parents – not to say the least – were equally ecstatic.
I might be advancing at a rate that's a tiddy tiny bit too fast, even compared to the genius' of this world. But I've finally reached a stage where I can, almost, talk however I want. Practice makes perfect. Even though I try my best to tone it down in the presence of my parents, my innate maturity, observation skills, ability to reflect upon given choices and my general interaction with the world, it all must feel a bit unnerving coming from a child.
And to be honest, I praise whomsoever dropped me into this particular family.
Really! I have only the highest of praise for my mother and father, but I don't think they realize just how further advanced I am mentally, in comparison to my average toddler peers. Though I haven't met any yet (bless be).
i'm not saying that my parents aren't sharp, because trust me they are, especially my mother. i'm just saying, i don't think they have much experience with children in general, thus don't have anything to compare me with really.
They do, however, realize that I'm an intelligent child and have thus started calling me their little genius girl. For the sake of my parents, I hold back on the creepiness meter and allow myself to act somewhat age appropriate, if still slightly unnerving at times. Oh, what we don't do for those that we love.
Yes, I love my parents.
And while yes, I had given them my unconditional love for their ever-steadfast behavior in the wiping of my poop. There exists a different kind of love as well, a love that is slowly nurtured, a love so subtle that it gradually sneaks upon you, a very ninja-esque love. It is upon you before you know it, and as it is upon you, you just know, know that it is the everlasting kind.
A love created and build by the small average moments of day to day life. A small smile here, a funny moment there, a bit of shared sadness and voila~. It is the combination of the small priceless moments that creates family.
Even the horrifying and super painful moments of teething only helped in the familiar bonding as I gobbled on absolutely everything, object or human didn't matter.
*shudder*
Yeah, I love my family.
"Kaa-san" I call out as I round the corner to the kitchen.
Yes, it is still semi-euphoric communicating as I want to.
She turns around, facing me from where she is making onigiri and cutting fruit.
I never get tired of how her face lights up whenever she gazes upon my magnificent self.
Okay, I will be the first to admit. I'm probably basking a bit too much in their attention, and hey! it seriously does wonders for my self-esteem, which by the way might be a bit bloated considering all the praise and attention I get from them. But alas, I have never had parents nor any family before, so who could truly blame me If I choose to bask in their attention for all it's worth?
"Yes Musume?" she smiles down at me.
That actually makes me pause. Musume. I rack my brain for the meaning a bit, while my mother awaits patiently. She does this sometimes, switching up how she addresses me, it was confusing at first, but when I realized what my mother was doing I saw her in a new light. She was and is, deliberately using words I haven't heard or only heard or utilized rarely, all in order for me to expand my vocabulary.
She's truly a piece of work, and I mean that in the good way.
Is this her way of developing what she perceives as my toddler genius? Well it works. Sneaky woman. Love her.
Ahh… it means daughter
You would normally think, wow I'm so slow, but hearing them refer to me as daughter is something they've rarely done. It's usually little genius or darling Michi or some equally ego boosting epithet.
Mom recognizes my look of realization and her smile widens a bit. She always smiles a bit more if I get it. I guess being a mother or even a father for that matter, living in the shinobi world, you'll want your child to be best equipped to survive, and survival depends on smarts and skills.
It is a bit frightening when you think about it like that. That your mother is slowly, but surely conditioning you, making sure that you have what it takes to ensure your survival in such a cutthroat world.
But it is endearing as well, in its own twisted and morbid way.
As she ruffles my hair, which by the way have grown out a bit. My hair is a beautiful combination between my two parents - if i have anything to say about it myself. My hair is much like my father's, midnight black, however I did inherit a deep purple shine that is only visible when the lightning strikes just right. My hair is already a bit unruly so I just can't wait to find out how it's going to be in the future…Yeah, not really…
I've inherited my father's bright purple eyes. They truly pop in my face, giving me a kind of wow factor, contrasting the fair complexion I got from mother and the midnight black hair.
I will be a looker in the future, no way around it. I can only cross my fingers and hope puberty becomes me. Ugh… puberty… let's not think about that yet, like at all…
As she is ruffling my hair, I prepare myself.
I make my eyes big, watery and doe-like.
I find the perfect angle and look up at her through my considerable eyelashes – gorgeous I tell you – and says in the uttermost sweet and innocent voice that I can manage.
"Kaa-san, some tea please?" it is the single most offensive and effective jutsu that I currently employ in my repertoire. It has proven itself on countless occasions to down lesser mortals.
But sadly, my mother is not a lesser mortal.
She is a higher being of absolute power, whom holds my delicious cravings of tea at bay with her iron clad will.
So, mother merely narrows her eyes at me, and somehow, I feel suitable scolded. What is up with that? How does she do that, to father and me? she has truly established herself as queen of this humble nest.
"Sweetie pie" she once again addresses me differently, but this time I know what she says instantly, because, come on, sweets? Pie? Enough said.
"That only works on your father now, and it's not healthy drinking so much tea darling" continues mother with a patient yet awaiting expression on her face.
Ladies and gentlemen, i present to you, my mother.
She somehow took this mundane tea question and turned it around on me.
She didn't outright say no, so mother is probably slowly showing, what she believes to be an advanced toddler brain, that defeat, or in this case denial, is not always found in the obvious. Meaning I, myself, has to connect the dots between what she said and what she wants me to understand and comprehend.
Not healthy in conjunction with so much obviously implies that having too much of tea, or anything in general if we're taking it that far, is unhealthy and that compromises present and future growth. Meaning my skills will suffer and thus rendering my survival capabilities weak and pathetic. She wants me to survive, I want myself to survive, thus I can't have the tea.
However, the part That only works on your father obviously implies a weakness to exploit, meaning strategic thinking is encouraged, increasing smarts and reflective thought in regards to possible action and reaction to ensure success.
But the true message lies within the stressed now, implying that mother was once susceptible to such tactics, but aren't anymore. Because I know they have worked in the past, meaning overuse of the same tactics desensitizes enemies, thus ultimately rendering my strongest weapon worthless, leaving myself weak and open to counterattacks.
Such as me not getting my fix of tea.
Does she then want me to formulate a plan B? creating an alternative solution to a dead end?
Negotiation?
Forcible extraction?
Stealth approach once she leaves?
I shake my head, because come on. These thoughts are of something so convoluted and filled with hidden deep twisting all purposeful meanings. Something straight out of Sun Tzu, The Art of War. I sigh mentally to myself, I'm merely overthinking things. This is only a cup of tea, and she is not delving into advanced battle tactics and strategy from her denying me my tea.
Because come on, she is just my mother.
I break myself out of my thoughts, and look up at her.
She's smiling, but somehow it resembles more of a smirk.
But then again, she is just My Mother.
And suddenly, I'm having this weird feeling that she knows exactly how well developed I am.
And as I'm watching my mother's smiling smirk, I can't help but feel a bit chilled.
Mother smiles happily again.
"You are such a little genius my little Michi, yes you are" She coos in her usual, happy, smiling voice.
And as I'm standing there, rooted to the spot, feeling something I can't describe, I watch her leave.
It has been a few days since I last saw father, and mother has me starting on alternatively reading then writing.
Make no mistake, it is nice when mother or even father reads to me, but my adult brain needs a bit more stimulation, and I think mother somewhat recognizes this, as I found very real, stray, and very very sharp kunai in the apartment a couple of days ago. The apartment is baby proofed, so it was probably just sluggishness after a mission of some sort that left it there.
But I picked up the kunai and in my best baby fashion, swung it around handling it like a sword, which it almost very well could be, considering my very intimidating toddler frame.
But as all mothers tend to do, she appeared out of thin air as if she was sensing the danger to her spawn, and to be honest, she very well could have. There just has to happen something supernatural with women when they become mothers. So, I'm very certain in my theory regarding the 'Superpowers of Mothers'. Because before I know it, the kunai is gone and I'm looking into the vestige of death itself.
Let's just say mothers are scary, then leave it at that.
I'm reading and practicing, my, at the moment, barely legitimate chicken scratch. Suddenly my mother ups and leaves for her bedroom while calling over her shoulder for me to continue.
A few minutes later the front door of the apartment opens, and in walks father in his standard shinobi gear looking a bit tired, but fine none the less. No new bandages, that I can spot at first glance anyway, but he looks relatively unharmed, if a bit scuffed and weary.
His roguish smile envelops his face and he walks over to me, bending at the waist, pressing a big sloppy kiss to my forehead. The stubble of his beard scratching my face.
I scrounge up my nose a bit and leans away, deciding to play along with the antics after the long mission he just had.
"Eww, that's gross Tou-san" I say in my most exasperated childish tone possible.
His entire face lights up and he doesn't look as tired anymore. So it's worth playing a long. Instead he looks at me even more roguish, if that's possible. He looms in deeper over me.
"Aww my little Mi-chan, didn't you miss your Tou-san?" He says with the fakest sad expression ever, while shortening my name to what he deemed very cutesy, his words, not mine. Father can be such a silly sap sometimes, and I love him all the more for it, that he can still act silly with me, despite his masculine bearish appearance.
So, magnanimously deciding that my father has deserved his reward, I leave my fairy tale and my writing supplies as I stand up, walking a step into his warm embrace and giving him the very traditional Japanese greeting.
"Okaeri, Tou-san" my voice muffled in the clothes of his embrace.
"Tadaima, Michi" he almost whispers as I can feel his body resonate with his deep bass voice, but I hear it all the same. I take a few moments to just stand there, before letting go and sitting back down to continue my work.
It's almost scary how comfortable I've become with the idea of relying on other people, instead of solely shouldering life by myself. I've become reliant on the ever-present warmth that is my mother and father, and I don't know whether to be elated by the feeling of finally having such a thing, or being downright terrified of it.
Mother reenters the room from their bedroom. She heads straight for father, embraces him around the neck and plants a big, wet, hungry kiss on his lips. It quickly becomes heated as my father's arms encircle her waist and if I'm not mistaken a bit of tongue wound its way in there as well. I'm about to make some kind of discreet noise, but it seems the greater power is with me today, as they break off.
I'm by no means a prude, as i have had my fair share of trysts in my past life. But, there is just something about watching your parents doing anything more than a chaste kiss, that instantly activates some hidden super special yuck genes. There's just no better way to explain it.
My mother leans back in their embrace, and they share a long soft look before mother takes a couple of steps and bends down giving the top of my hair a kiss, succeeded by her ruffling my hair.
"Mother will be gone for a couple of weeks' alright sweetie?" She asks me, looking me in the eyes, just like she always does before she leaves.
Mother sometimes leave for these extended periods of time. I've grown somewhat accustomed to it, since it means that when she's home, she won't have to leave for a good while before disappearing off again.
She hasn't mentioned what it is she does, at least in front of me – I think she knows that if she merely mentions something related to her job, then I'll figure it out. Hmm… mother is smart.
I, of course have my suspicions, but I haven't seen hide nor hair of anything pertaining to her potential kunoichi career, which can only mean one thing.
Anbu.
They are supposed to be this unidentifiable elite shadow corps if I remember correct, so I guess that's pretty cool if my mother is that good.
On the flip side, it also means really dangerous missions.
But this is all conjecture, since I have, as of yet, no way of knowing for sure. Guess that means she is well enough versed in the secrecy aspect, hmm?
So, I do what I always do and hold eye-contact, I feel like this is an important part for her, so I reassure her the best I can.
"Yes, don't worry Kaa-san" I say sincerely as I look her in the eyes. Then, to add a bit of levity to the situation I continue.
"I'll take care of the ogre" I smile the most mischievous smile I have yet managed. I absently hear fathers half-hearted protests. But I just keep looking mother in the eyes.
Her face lights up and she kisses me on the forehead and makes to leave. She's dressed in some very average clothes of drab color. Loose pants and long sleeved shirt of varying degrees of brown, how she almost always dresses when she leaves. If it wasn't for her beauty, she would look like the most average person in the world.
Another point in favor of being Anbu, dresses inconspicuous as she's leaving for work.
She gives my father a quick peck on the lips before she's out of the door.
In my old world, a relationship like this wouldn't work in many cases. Their times together are sporadic at best, I guess that's just how this world works, or at least how the shinobi profession works. It's not that they don't have time together at all, they do try to match father's missions with her "trips" to the best of their ability. And even though it works all right most of the time, there are simply times like this, where they only have enough for a quick kiss.
But enough of that.
I have eagerly awaited my father's return, and since the queen of the nest has just left, I'm seeing my chance.
I stand up and walk over to where my father is still standing, looking a bit longingly at the door.
"Tou-san…" I say, tilting my head just right, catching the purple of my mother's hair color in the waning light, my father loves her hair.
I make my eyes as big and watery and doe-like as I can quite possible manage.
Father turns and looks down at me, and I can just see how he is coming apart at the seams, melting into a manipulative goo.
He has this fond soft expression on his face, and I just know it's working.
"Can I have some tea, touuuuu-saaan, please?" I turn up the cutesy factor, dragging his name out with total adoration and innocence clear in my voice and face.
Hey! I'm not above manipulating family if it gets me tea. Tea is love. Tea is life. Tea is le-… I think you catch my drift.
I use my last trumph card. Biting my lower lip and looking up through my eyelashes.
And in that moment, I just know.
I'm so totally getting my tea! FINALLY!
Father is now completely within my grasp, and I fight the urge to cackle evilly, because that wouldn't do at all, it would ruin all the magnificent effort it has taken to get this far.
Father opens his mouth, and I eagerly await permission.
"Of cour–"To my frustration father stops midsentence as the front door opens rather quickly. Father tenses and places himself in front of me in what appears to be a combat stance, only for us to hear the authoritative voice of our Almighty Mistress.
"Oh, I almost forgot, Fumio! No tea for Michi, at least for a little while, you know she can't be allowed to drink too much of the stuff. Bye~" And then she leaves. Just like that, we hear the door closing to the absolute silence now reigning supreme in our apartment.
And this time there is no hidden Sun Tzu ninja-esque teachings. Just plain infuriating refusal.
And the worst thing is, I truly believe I could almost hear the smugness in her voice as she said it.
What kind of mother does that to her completely adorable one-and-a-half-year-old toddler. Preposterous!
Father turns around and I quickly scold my face into one of hopeful longing. But even I can see that my adorable toddler cuteness, is of absolutely no consequence for the sheer indomitable will that is my mother.
The only victory I can get, is that my father looks like he is about to cut out his own intestines, having to deny his little princess something. Heh, small victories.
He gulps, actually gulps, before slowly dragging the words out.
"I'm sorry darling…" he says looking visibly torn.
I give him a look of distress, tinted with just the faintest bit of disappointment.
If it was any other situation I would probably have laughed myself stupid at his face. He looks absolutely crushed. But as it is about my tea, this is a defcon one situation. This is serious!
I tune up my visible disappointment a bit more. He's downright sweating now, and i hope i can at least wiggle something out of him.
"L-let's wait a couple days, w-why don't we, then you can get your tea, n-neh Michi?" he finally cracks a bit. I might have overdone it a bit on the disappointment, but as they say, all is fair in love and war. And me not having tea. That's war!
I try not to smile too smugly at my father as I give him a big hug, thinking that was the best I could weasel out of a bad situation. As my father heaves a huge sigh of relief to himself, I walk over towards my reading and writing place and sit down, as my father leaves to change and probably bathe.
As I'm sitting there, I can't help but think of the almost terryfying prowess of my mother.
"Yeah. Mothers are scary." I trail off in a wondering tone.
"I HEARD THAT!" a faint yell comes from the outside.
I jump as if my ass was lit is on fire, and frantically looks around. But I see nothing. Mother is far gone.
…
HOW?! How is that even possible?
…
Mothers…
…
Superpowers I tell you man… superpowers.
Common Japanese greetings used in this chapter:
Okaeri - Welcome home
Tadaima - I'm home
(A/N): Thank you for reading chapter 2 of Owl-Nin Michi. I used this chapter to sketch a rough outline of how each character interacts (so far at least). I wanted to solidy Michi's relationship with her parents and create a bit more overall worldbuilding depth, so that the story has a better vantage point of sorts if you follow. This chapter is uploaded some 24 hours plus after the inital release of this series, i don't want people starting to think that, that's the norm, i just merely had the time and was in the mood for a chapter.
Still, thanks a lot for reading my series, I hope the story has caught your interest by now and that you find it as enjoyable to read as i do to write. See you out there.