Notes: To those who were reading – thanks for your patience. You know who you are. : )
Disclaimer: I own nothing that is described here. Anything that doesn't make sense historically is obviously made-up. Everything that makes even less sense, please let me know so I can fix it.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
(Six)
The Inuzuka were not the only family to seek shelter under the wing of a larger, stronger clan. One of the housemaids, another widow, gave birth to a young girl in the spring that I turned six; Kiba, my brother, was born later in the summer of that year. The little, pink-haired girl called Haruno Sakura would have greater impact on the younger Uchiha boy born after Kiba than on me, especially as she rarely came around to the kennels where I handled the dogs. Her mother had no reason to bring her there, especially after an incident where – despite adult supervision – the rowdiest, friendliest one-year-old puppies made Sakura burst into loud tears.
So it may seem strange that a six-year-old was allowed to take care of, and – after Senka saw how I worked – to an extent, train dogs the size of large wolves. I had an affinity for them, an understanding that far surpassed my empathy for many humans. I could deal with small children, too, but my heart at this point accommodated only the addition of Kiba.
The war had reached an uneasy lull in the summer succeeding a fairly brutal winter, which explained the number of births that year. Fugaku-sama did not like the idea of Uchiha children mingling with the servants' offspring; by and large, we were kept apart. Because I was not old enough to entrust with errands outside the compound and the wealthier clans had begun the hunting season, I spent my time almost exclusively with the hounds. The main part of my interaction with non-Inuzuka resulted from that.
The day I met Uchiha Shisui stands out from the rest of those brief exchanges. I had been leading an excitable two-year-old hound to Uchiha-Uncle, who was possibly my least-favorite Uchiha, even after I met Yoruko. I eventually learned that his name was Tekka, but until then, I had no other way to refer to him. He was raven-haired like the rest of his clan, dark-eyed and quick with a smile when I looked at him accidentally. There was something in his manner that I distrusted, so that although his face was so typically Uchiha that I lost him in a crowd of his relatives, when he made himself known to me, I was terribly aware of his presence. I had first encountered him at the village's largest temple in January, when all the families went there to observe the New Year's tradition. He had offered me a piece of candy later when Haha-ue was distracted. I wouldn't even let the small white puppy have it, throwing it into the Nakano River as soon as possible.
The Uchiha's scrutiny crawled up and down my neck like cold water trickling over my spine, or chunks of ice sliding on my bare stomach. He gave the side of my neck a proprietary caress when I brought the dog to him, calling him sir as I did so. He smiled and told me to think of him as an uncle. To this day, that appellation bears a stain in my mind.
I bowed my head with my hands clasped before me, expecting him to leave. To my astonishment, he bent over to see my face. This brought him too close. "Little girl, have you lived in the Uchiha house long?"
"No, sir."
"No, jii-san," he corrected. "That is what you can call me when we are alone together." His voice was an unremarkable tenor, scratchy like a coarse cloth dragging over the tatami. "Your company is wasted on dumb animals," he declared. "The main house could at least have made you a maid. Well, no matter…next year, I shall be here with all the clan again, and you can find me any time you wish. You like sweets, I know."
Actually, I had avoided sweets ever since the day he offered me one. I didn't have many opportunities to turn down that luxury, but I certainly lost whatever fondness I had for them since Uchiha-Uncle. I merely nodded.
"Good girl. Look at me now." He gripped my chin so that I had no choice. His face looked huge, filling my vision. Blood and panic throbbed at my temples. My hands had unclasped themselves, tensing as I prepared to strike and flee.
I might have raked the man across the cheek and gotten my entire family in deep trouble, had not thumping footsteps jolted Uchiha-Uncle into straightening at once. A young boy's voice, clear and unbroken, greeted Uchiha-Uncle as he came to a halt.
"Jii-san, have you seen the veterinarian?"
"No, I have not." The man sounded brusquer. He strode out with his hunting hound, restored to the stern uniformity of his clan. "Shisui, it is unseemly for you to patter around carrying that stray. You are an Uchiha."
The boy frowned. "Her leg is hurt." When the older Uchiha started to leave, however, he only bowed and said good day. He saw me watching and trotted over. "Excuse me, do you know where the veterinarian is?"
Since he was only a fellow child, no older than eight, I looked up.
He wasn't stunningly handsome, but there was an air about him, sweetly nostalgic like the scent of my father's old memoir that Haha-ue had kept. His eyes gleamed despite their darkness, warm and reliable like a pleasant memory. What I thought of Itachi, whose perfectly aligned features was marred only by the deep creases slanting from tear duct to cheekbone, took years to solidify. But Shisui I loved at first sight.
"Haha-ue left to help one of the horses to the farrier's." The tawny cat in his arms observed me without blinking when I began to speak, but soon turned away in boredom. I could see a wooden splinter had lacerated the right forepaw.
"My cat injured herself wandering outside. If it gets infected…"
"I can dress and bind her paw," I said. "Will you follow me?"
We went around to the stables, where sounds of sparring floated over from the side court. After I treated the cat, who disliked me fully as much as I disliked her, Shisui asked if I would like to go inside for tea.
All this time, he had kept up a moderate flow of speech that I hardly paid any mind to. His words had run over me like water slipping over rocks until it tumbles off a cliff's edge: "Tea?" I blurted.
"Well, you've been outside all day."
Shisui's careless invitation left me nonplussed for a moment. Then I remembered myself. "I don't think so, Shisui-sama."
"Oh. Well, we can have a drink from the well." He headed for the well off to the side in the courtyard before I could dissuade him. The cat protested until Shisui deposited her on the wooden walkway. I had been walking in the courtyard one step below Shisui as he walked over the wooden corridor, because I was not a household servant and did not have the privilege. Even when he left the raised walkway, Shisui capped my height by one or two fingers' width.
He operated the well with ease. While I drank, the activity in the courtyard caught my attention. Boys that looked no more than two or three years older than me were receiving instruction in various kata using short swords. In their hands, the wakizashi looked like a normal-length blade.
Their sparring revealed their awkwardness. They were worse than kittens learning how to pounce, all of them, barring a boy of slighter build training at the far end. As I watched, the instructor separated him from his sparring partner and adjusted his stance. It wasn't that his stance was wrong; he was being taught a more complex angle of approach that better suited his previous situation. The boy standing off to the side tried to mimic the smaller boy, but succeeded only in acquiring the pose, not the advantage of that move.
"That's Itachi," Shisui said unnecessarily, shading his eyes from the noon glare. "Isn't he a little demon with the wakizashi. Quiet and all, but Fugaku-sama has already put him with an older group. Soon he might even be training with me!"
"Are you skilled in combat?" I asked, relaxed enough to chance a question.
"There are plenty of people who are better." I heard the polite modesty for what it was and knew he was exceptional. "My father thinks the truce won't last for more than two harvests. We have to be ready."
The sparring had preceded the end of the day's lesson. At the instructor's dismissal, the group of sweaty, tired boys lost their formation, many of them heading for the well. This woke Shisui's sense of social propriety. He was a friendly boy, but these were his peers. If they saw us, they would tease him mercilessly even if he could beat them silly in a physical fight. The fact that he excelled beyond the norm ensured that he faced rougher, crueler taunts. Such was the problem of standing out.
I felt a little sorry for him upon realizing that, so prior to his uneasy glance, I bowed. "Thank you for the drink."
All servants and those who do not belong to the upper class learn a special, all-purpose expression. In Konoha, it was a child's game elevated to an art form: I don't see you, therefore you don't see me. I walked back to my post past the courtyard in broad daylight, as invisible to the adult instructor as the wind. The boys glanced at me without real interest; even at that age, they felt it was impolite to acknowledge a servant at all when no service was demanded. It was much better to bicker and jostle amongst themselves.
While I returned to my post, I wondered if Itachi wanted a drink, and almost smiled. The other boys were stronger and bigger; they could operate the well without difficulty. Itachi might be able to, but it'd certainly take him more effort.
But, as it turned out, the well brought us together again.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
In late August, just as the village seemed to enter an indolent, drowsy period, something alarming happened.
Obon, the All Soul's Day festival that took place in midsummer, had lured a trickle of merchants and artisans to reopen their businesses. Kiba was still too young to fully appreciate it, but I had admired from a distance the traditional bonfire that lit up the mountainside. Tanabata, the second festival of the summer, drew even more traders and craftsmen. I walked down the streets with Haha-ue, thrilled to be outside the Uchiha compound and eating grilled squid and fried, salty pancakes. Lining either side of the street were stalls selling food, flowers, ornaments, and toys.
The reason I recount this is because after the late-August incident, everyone concluded that the culprit must have snuck into Konoha disguised as a toy seller or trader. Although Konoha was technically only a village, its high wall and natural defenses were hard to bypass.
Several weeks after Tanabata, a thunderstorm broke over Konoha. The deluge of rain ran down the sluiced grooves in the roofs; often, stepping out of covered shelter involved crossing a curtain of water, but Haha-ue and I had to do it. It rained for two days and nights. On the third morning, the sky was ominous and dark. The constant sound of rain dripping and skidding off the roof no longer woke anyone by then.
It was the barking that did it. Normally, the dogs were well-behaved and trained to keep silent unless there was an intruder. The white puppy over which I had disobeyed Senka was wide awake, but he was not barking. The room my family and I shared was sealed off against rain and most outside scents.
As if to make up for his blindness, the puppy had developed an extraordinary sense of smell. This helped him navigate to my side when I got up and left the room. Haha-ue, exhausted from minding her chores and Kiba, stayed fast asleep.
The frenzied chorus of barking faltered as I approached; human voices wove into them, soothing the dogs through the persistent fall of rain while sounding quite agitated themselves.
I slid the door to the courtyard open a crack. A large group of adults had gathered near the gate, heedless of the water soaking into their hair and clothes. Fugaku-sama gestured angrily and vehemently as he spoke. The Uchiha elders quieted to listen.
Snatches of phrases drifted to my ears: "…Must have come in during the festival and hidden…not the first time an attempt has been made, but who is behind it? Are there more than one? This is what troubles me…"
The puppy snuffled and bumped into my calf. I bent and stroked his back, willing him to be silent.
"…Took half an ear off the dog and put out its eye, too. We have others who might have tracked him but for this damned rain!"
I thought of the enormous black and white, wolf-like dog that was the principal canine guard of the Uchiha compound. Kuromaru's wounds rendered him useless as a guardian. Senka would probably order the dog's disposal. The possibility bothered me, and I planned to talk with Haha-ue. It was much harder to keep a fierce, gigantic dog discreetly than it was a small, unassuming puppy.
The group of men broke up at dawn, when the sky paled to the sickly grey color of a moribund cocoon. As usual, I headed over to the well, my mind more on Kuromaru's fate than anything. The puppy suddenly growled and shot past me, skipping and dashing around the old well. His insistent yips grew in volume as I tried to get closer. He kept it up, circling the well even after I realized something was wrong and spun around to look for someone to alert. Just like every morning, Itachi was making his way past the courtyard on the covered walkway.
I ran right up to the wooden corridor and bowed. "Itachi-sama."
Without batting an eye in surprise, he asked in a tone too collected and self-possessed for a five-year-old, "What is it?"
"There's something in the well."
He looked me square in the eyes for a fleeting instant, then turned on his heel. Soon, Fugaku-sama, Senka, and a handful of Uchiha men strode back into the courtyard, their slippers slapping the wet ground. They gathered two paces' distance from the edge of the well. Steel gleamed in the dim morning light.
I realized that they did not want to look into the well on the off-chance the creature was alive nor even kill whatever hid inside, since that would pollute the water. Belatedly, I caught the white puppy in my arms and carried him out of the circle. Senka's dark, suspicious eyes flitted to me.
His tough, callused hand seized my shoulder. "See to your other chores."
Grateful for the reprieve, I left the puppy in the room where I slept and hurried to do Senka's bidding.
The men waited until midday before the foolish intruder emerged from the well. I saw none of what occurred, but Haruno-san and Haha-ue discussed it in low voices over the meal of rice and vegetables. The ninja had come from a warlord to the north who wanted to steal secrets and assassinate Fugaku-sama, head of a clan that comprised the rival warlord's best fighters. The Uchiha had taken the man into custody for extended interrogation. I did not envy him.
Midway through the meal, another servant entered the room, kneeling just inside the sliding door with a tray in her hands. "Inuzuka-san, the honored Head of the Uchiha and his wife send you this." On the tray was a delicate, filleted turbot fish.
We were summoned as a family before the Uchiha head family after the evening meal. Nothing much came of it, except that although I had defied Senka's orders, the matter remained unaired, and I received no punishment. Instead, the puppy was to be raised as a tracking hound from now on, and he was supposed to live with the other dogs in the kennels. When I brought him to his new sleeping quarters, he refused to stay there. It was just as well; Kiba stopped wailing as soon as I returned with the puppy. In many ways, my brother's connection with the dog was even stronger than mine. It was Kiba who named him Akamaru, after he bit Kiba too hard accidentally in play and drew bright beads of blood.
Until Kiba learned to talk, life continued as it always had. That is, life went on as usual except that from then on, Itachi and I tended to greet each other by name when our paths crossed.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --