3 - Oolong ウーロン茶
tranquility rules
the hollows of nature; an echo
of ataraxy
It's not really a surprise when she goes with Haru to the boardwalk, a long walkway which oversees the sparkling river.
"Is Shisui not coming?" Hisa asks, almost sullenly.
"No," he answers, remaining silent.
"So what are we doing?"
"You'll see."
She skips by his side along the dusty path, occasionally running to match Haru's quick strides. Boots are so much more comfortable, Hisa thinks. She'd thrown away her outdoor sandals and borrowed new shoes from Mikoto. They're still hoping for a child. Speaking of that, isn't-
"Here," Haru beckons, snapping her out of her reverie. Turning her head from side to side, she can see a large expanse of lake, a border of cluttered trees far away in the distance.
Cautiously, Hisa steps to the end of the boardwalk, her toes teetering at the edge. "Why am I here?"
"You will be Clan Heir until their child is born," Haru exhales tiredly.
"So?" She'll just get on with her life after that anyway - what's the problem?
"I'll teach you how to use chakra."
"You ask a lot of me," she retorts. "I won't be able to, especially right now." She's tempted to make a mess of it on purpose.
"Activate the Sharingan," Haru orders, undeterred.
"I don't know how," she lies, batting her eyelashes. Hisa has actually been experimenting when he's gone, relishing in the familiar surge of chakra as red swirls into her eyes. But the grief which washes over her, drowning her, is definitely too much to bear.
"You do," Haru glares at her. Huh. So he has noticed after all. She wouldn't have thought so, with how many missions he takes.
"Fine." Hisa scowls. The Sharingan does bring advanced perception and other greater abilities, but it often makes her dizzy at the unfamiliar new senses. For a minute, she spins slightly, arms held out to balance.
Now the world seems clearer. Not hidden by sorrows and longing, or a vague happiness which veils the view. The trees seem...is it strange to call then greener? But everything feels like it's brimming with life, energy threatening to spill.
"Good," Haru nods, and she finds herself annoyed at his indifferent outlook. "Watch carefully."
Then he runs through twelve hand seals so fast she's not sure if she's even seen one, though she has. Haru waits, expecting her to copy them immediately.
"I didn't even see them!" Hisa huffs, nevertheless forming each one as slow as she can and making a few deliberate mistakes while she does. "I'm not that great. Why don't you ask Shisui?"
"Nice try," Haru mutters, as he forces her to go through them again. She curses the Sharingan for having perfect recollection as her hands try to stumble over the signs. She's not trying to be a prodigy - in fact, she's trying to be the exact opposite. So why is that so difficult?
For a few moments, quiet. Nothing happens, maybe an occasional fumble as she tries to slip accidentally on one of the hand-seals. Haru's eyes look at her carefully, suspiciously, but nothing happens. He can't exactly prove that she's doing it wrong on purpose.
"Do I have to do it again?" Hisa pleads as Haru glowers at her. "You're not exactly encouraging," she mumbles.
That only proves to enrage him further.
They go home at sunset, dusk swooping over them as clouds flee away from the darkening purple of the evening. She's not really made much progress, but maybe that's to be expected, especially since it's her first time trying to meld chakra.
Shisui is waiting for them as they return, clutching at her legs as soon as she steps in. "Aneki! I'm hungry!"
Hisa pulls something out from the fridge - rice, chocolate, she doesn't know what, handing it to him as he runs riot in the house. Haru smiles tiredly at the scene while Hisa frowns. She's the one who has to clean his mess up tomorrow.
And maybe she'd be more supportive if she wasn't obliged to train everyday.
"Otou-san, you need to rest," Hisa says, under the guise of a dutiful child. She just wants to get out of it, really.
Haru doesn't, though. As the lines under his eyes sink into grey, they train outside wherever and whenever. The hand-seals are repeated over and over again until she can twist her hands into unnatural positions with the ease of a contortionist, a slight grimace etched on her face as her speed increases.
After a while, Haru decides she's ready for something else, even though she begs him to stay on the same level. The slower the better.
But this is worse. Chakra lessons. At home, outside, anywhere. She's always shaken, worn out into threads by the time she's finished, heart beating wildly as she releases the energy outside of her tenketsu once more.
"How's this going to help me?" Hisa asks while Haru observes her. He doesn't answer, so she stops immediately, folding her arms and raising her eyebrows.
"Continue!" He barks out, then mutters something so quiet that she can't hear. "A genjutsu type, good chakra control."
Hisa recognises it from one of the many overheard conversations between her father and mother. Genjutsu are illusions, abstract worlds of mental manipulation. Although not many are capable of them, they're not the best when trying to physically hurt someone. Hisa scowls even more.
But she has another problem to face. Did she just say she has good chakra control? She needs to work on that, fast. Ironically, she's not sure whether to get better or worse.
The rain drizzles down into a flood, and only then do they leave.
This time there are no tea leaves in the cupboard. Hisa needs to find some. Now.
She can't live without tea, she's addicted, obsessive, in love with it - it's what makes up the essence of her existence. And now there's none left.
She puts on her haori and walks out of the house, Shisui faintly laughing behind her as she locks the door.
The Uchiha compound is not somewhere she's really explored before, but it's easy to get around once you know where everything is. The tea leaves are probably located somewhere near the senbei bakery.
People mill around the street, the dusty pathways swept by tired, haggard-looking women, young mothers carrying shopping bags and boys with the Uchiha crest on their shirts running around to play ball. She fits right in, although there are some sceptical looks about her age.
The bakery is near the entrance of the compound, cobblestoned pathways running down the edges of the lane. There's a young woman and her husband who own the stall, freshly steamed buns behind them.
"Do you have any matcha, please?" Hisa asks, debating whether to speak any louder over the hustle and bustle of the crowd.
"No," the woman replies as Hisa's face falls for a moment. "But we do have some oolong."
Seeing her hesitation, the lady smiles. "I'm Uruchi, what's your name?"
"Hisa," she answers, without skipping a beat. "I need some tea leaves and it's urgent. Is oolong any good?"
Uruchi laughs. "Oolong tastes nice, I've had it before."
Hisa orders a few leaves, handing the coins over to Uruchi at the confirmation.
"You look a little young?" Uruchi questions doubtfully. "Where are your parents?"
"Aren't we all," Hisa mutters, leaving before she can answer any questions.
While the tea brews, she closes her eyes, feather-light whisk in hand. The familiar bubbling creates a relaxed atmosphere, the soothing sounds just like a stream.
Oolong. A tea from a different nation, ne? Does it taste any different?
Carefully, she mixes the powder in, watching as it floats on the surface and sinks. Then, as always, her peace is disturbed.
"I thought you were on a mission?" Hisa asks, looking at Haru with a sidelong glance. At first, he doesn't respond.
"You're making tea," he says thoughtfully.
She rolls her eyes - has he just noticed now? - narrowing her eyebrows at his suggestive tone. "What is it?"
"It will be useful for your studies." Haru replies, taking a sachet from his pocket and handing it to her. "Be careful."
She stares at him before tearing it open, pouring the contents into the tea. The white powder seems to dissolve, swirling into the green liquid until there is nothing left. Or so it seems.
Raising the teacup, she tilts it to her mouth to take a sip, but Haru slaps her hand before she can taste even a drop.
Smash.
"What?" Hisa screams, shards of ceramic digging into her hands as the tea spills into the tatami mats. "What was that for?"
She trembles as she removes the splinters of pottery from her hand, the hot tea dripping down her kimono.
Great. Just great. She loved that kimono, and now it's ruined. Not to mention she'll have to clean up the spillage and pick the pieces of the mug out of the mats. Haru really doesn't realise what she has to go through.
As she makes a motion to stand, Haru finally speaks, so softly she almost doesn't hear what he says. "It was poison."
"What!?" She shrieks, even louder this time. "I could have died! Why did you-"
"I didn't tell you to put it inside," he replies as she directs her most intense glare towards him. "And you didn't die, did you?"
Hisa growls again, this time in frustration and annoyance at his nonchalance. "How is poison going to help me?"
"It won't," Haru states. "But it is incredibly useful to us."
To them. It's all for them. For the Uchiha Clan. Useful. That's what she is.
Haru smiles. "I'll teach you about that, then."
There are no words to explain how broken Hisa feels right now.
After training for weeks on end, it's a slight relief to go around to Mikoto's house on a break. She's been invited for tea, so Haru can't exactly refuse, even if he wants to. It's a comfort to know that Fugaku is out, so she won't see him at any time, at least.
"Do you miss your mother?" Mikoto asks, startling her.
No-one really talks about Mariko, since talking about the dead is a delicate, almost forbidden topic.
"I-I...yes." Hisa stutters, not quite meeting the other girl's eyes.
"Are you sure?" Mikoto raises her eyebrows. This is going too far, Hisa thinks.
She doesn't know what prompts her to say it, but the truth is plain and as clear as day. "No. Not really."
Thinking about it now, she can't picture her mother at all, not even the distinct flowery perfume she always wore. There's only a faceless ghost in her mind, flitting between the barriers of hope and sorrow.
"You'll forget," Mikoto sips her tea. "I lost my mother when I was your age, and I could never remember her after."
"I'm sorry," Hisa bows her head out of courtesy.
"There's no need to be. I don't feel sad... just lost," Mikoto gives a wry grin, sliding biscuits on to her plate.
Hisa bites into one as it crunches in her mouth. "So?"
"Mariko wanted to give this to you," Mikoto answers, unfazed by her harsh tone. There's something lying on the table, which she surprisingly hasn't noticed until now.
"A camera?" She asks questioningly. Cameras are very rare in the shinobi world, but that doesn't explain why Mariko owned one. "I've never seen one before."
"Look," Mikoto urges, gently placing it into Hisa's palm.
It feels rigid, solid, cold in her hands, almost as if it could break apart at any moment, the lens sparkling hypnotisingly in all the colours of the rainbow. Cautiously, she turns it over, pressing her eye to the back.
There are pictures. Many, many photographs. As she clicks the button rhythmically, her mouth drops open at the story they tell. Mariko as a child. Mariko growing up. Mariko as a kunoichi. Mariko's wedding. And then, finally, a photo of her mother holding her in her arms.
Silvery tears run down her eyes, though these are ones of joy and a longing for a forever lost love.
"She lived a good life," Mikoto sighs happily, watching the the memories flood into Hisa's mind.
"She did," Hisa agrees.
"And now it's yours," Mikoto encourages. "To remember your life - to remind you of the things you have."
The button clicks once more, a sharp flash of light, a new engraving of her life within hundreds of other illustrations.
And perhaps, for the first time since her mother died, Hisa feels happy.
The first jutsu which she learns is not the one she wants to. Maybe it's just her, but fire ninjutsu seems strange. Anyway, it's not like she has a choice.
"Gōkakyū no Jutsu!" Haru shouts, a large fireball erupting out of his mouth. Although she's fascinated by the mechanics of the element itself, she really should have paid better attention to the hand-seals.
"Can you please do that again, ne?" She asks sweetly. "I didn't catch that."
Haru frowns. "Oh kami, really? You haven't even activated your Sharingan!"
"Oops," Hisa smirks while he grits his teeth.
Annoying him is just too easy.
Haru still makes her learn it though, but he knows he's lost. She takes pity on him around halfway, deciding to show him that she's already learned it weeks ago. This is already getting boring.
But the next week, Fugaku meets them there.
She's standing in horror, shock, skin turning to ice as her brow creases furtively. He inspects her hypercritically, dark eyes darting over every hand-seal she performs.
As she hurries over each one, almost missing a few, she knows that this isn't perfect. But her efforts are - kind of? - rewarded. Hisa manages to exhale a good-sized fireball, and although it's not the best, he nods at Haru.
"Good enough," Fugaku says, causing her to almost scowl. She catches herself in time. Good enough? What kind of a compliment is that?
And then she sees the pride in Haru's eyes.
"You're an adult now, Hisana. Never forget that." Fugaku says gruffly.
She stills. An adult?
"The Gōkakyū no Jutsu is a rite of passage into adulthood," Fugaku explains at her confused look.
Haru doesn't meet her eyes, indignance boiling through Hisa's blood. He tricked her. She'd never have done it if she knew. All they want is for her to be their tool in this game - whatever is between the Council and their Clan.
"Yes, Fugaku-sama," she croaks out.
"You will attend the Academy next week." Fugaku turns around to say, ignoring her apparent loss of words.
Hisa's heart drops.
Definitions:
haori - hip or thigh-length jacket worn over a kimono
oolong - semi-oxidised Chinese tea
tenketsu - pressure points from which chakra can be released
This chapter was a particularly fascinating one to write, especially because it's basically the foundation for everything which will happen. We're almost at the Academy, which is the start for Hisa's journey as a kunoichi!
Okay, so I was originally planning monthly updates, but somehow I ended up doing one every few days. I'll try to do one or two each week, although I'm not exactly sure which day.
Anyway, please, please review if you liked it or for any criticism you may have. You have no idea how much that makes my day.
lovehearts,
mint-chan