War, despite the games which children played, was not pleasant.
Hisa watched as the havoc spread, Uchiha and Senju were meeting in battle more and more often. There was no warning, there were no graces given to the civilians who might have been in their way. They were enemies and upon laying eyes on one another, they were blindsided to everything but the bloodshed they'd both caused.
It was vengeance for vengeance.
An eye for an eye.
It was a cycle which continued to churn, like a well-oiled wheel.
.
.
"Where're my kunai, girl?" Aoi grunted.
"Probably still in the targets out back," was her glib response.
Hisa had seen fourteen winters by that point, having arrived into the reluctant arms of the small village but a year ago. Her warm bed by the furnace and the meal she was given every night was enough to anchor her to the place, alongside her surly partner. Aoi grew slower with every month, his joints aching and his bones creaking but there was still life seething within his form.
He gave her a clip around the ear for her impertinence.
"Then go get them," he hissed. "Brat."
"Old man," she said but did as she was told.
The three targets were battered and bludgeoned within an inch of their lives. Carved from the thick trunks of the trees and slammed into the ground, they made do with what they had. The kunai was sharp enough to lodge handle deep into the wood, the children which remained tried to make it a game to see who could pull one out.
None had succeeded yet, she hummed to herself, accounting all eight of them before pulling them out, one by one, with the ease of cutting butter.
A year of work, of training, of using blades and weapons thinned her arms with wiry muscles. Her core tightened and a spark beneath her skin. She'd gained a head of height and was looking forward to the days which she could speak down to someone rather than it being the other way around.
"I haven't got all day!" Aoi griped loudly, voice carrying through the open windows.
"I'm coming!"
Her sense of peace was warped, whilst blood was spilt and bodies piled up around them, they threw barbs and quips and children played in the street. Uchiha and Senju wandered through and so far, they had luck on their side. Their skirmishes stayed on the outskirts, they kept their heads down and their goods offered at the ready.
Their weapons, their food, everything had a price most days.
Her feet were light and quiet on the floor, practice makes perfect, slipping into the workshop with nary a sound.
"I know you're there," Aoi punctured her bubble so easily.
He hadn't even turned around to look at her.
"No you don't."
"Brat," he warned.
She grinned, the mask moving with the contortion of her lips, as she placed the kunai into the wrap left out. It was a small package for the Uchiha patrol which would be arriving the next day to pick up their order.
"Be careful who sees you do this kinda shit," Aoi told her, hearing her threaded together the package so they didn't rattle loose. His back still facing her, refusing to look her in the eye. "Soon they won't have enough blood of their own to spill, they'll start to draft other clans, other warriors."
"Is that what you were?" She asked quietly, gaze slipping down to the puckered flesh of his right leg. Hisa had never questioned him, they both had their secrets; just like he never addressed his limp, she never mentioned where she'd come from. "A warrior?"
His hand patted his hip and she flinched, hearing the rattle and creak of it even at a distance.
"I fought for my family, back when we had our own land," Aoi told her quietly, turning his body half towards her. He might've held a sword in his hands, working out the imperfections of it with precision but his eyes told her that he was so very far away.
"What happened?"
"The Clans wanted the land, ...me and my sister were the only ones to make it out alive when we fought for it," he said.
(And the same thing is happening again, she couldn't help but notice.)
They were silent for the rest of the workday.
It was only after the sun had set, their day finished and Hisa had sat down on her bed near the furnace did he approach her again. He crouched, using his cane to keep his balance lest he fell onto his bad leg. Aoi had seemed ancient to her when she'd first arrived but it was startling to realise that he was a young man, old enough to have started a family of his own but young enough to have only begun to wrinkle around the eyes and mouth.
"We live in unsafe times, you get knocked back down? You get back up," he told her.
Hisa nodded.
The weight of his hand on top of her head served to make her neck ache and lacked the comforting warmth it once had.
"Getting back up doesn't mean shrug it off," he told her, his voice hoarse and his eyes were cold. "It means make the fuckers pay for dragging you down in the first place."
.
.
Their good luck didn't last.
Uchiha and Senju converged on a brisk morning.
Aoi hadn't even made it to the shop yet and Hisa was awoken to the sound of blades being unsheathed at a disturbingly close range. Her eyes shot open and she tumbled out of her bed, dressing quickly and the mask pulled up just in time for the door to be kicked open.
"Boy, where's the blacksmith?!" The soldier yelled.
He sounded like he was just a boy himself.
"He hasn't come to the shop yet," she dutifully told him.
"Fetch him!"
She didn't know who was ordering her around, Senju or Uchiha, her eyes still blurred with sleep; there was no mistaking the blood or the gore which awaited outside the front door. All she knew was that limbs were severed and the rotting corpse would no doubt become their problem to deal with.
(Just like most of the aftermath of these battles, she wanted to hiss at the slack soldiers stood off to the side.)
She made a show of veering to the right in a dead sprint, unwilling to give up Aoi's place of residence, which was a mere ten steps away from the forge. Instead, Hisa cut through the back streets and climbed into Aoi's house through the open back window.
He was stood near the front door, dressed in some of his finest clothes.
"Whatever happens," he said. He always knew when she was there and he looks resigned and defeated and angers burns through her like a fever. Aoi doesn't turn around to look at her as she strolls through his home, she wants him to though. She wants him to look her in the eye. Instead, she swallowed the thick lump that had formed in her throat. "You say nothing, you do nothing."
"I can't just-" she croaked.
"Hisa, repeat it back to me," Aoi demanded, finally doing what she wanted and turning to stare at her.
It was wild, frenzied and borderline desperate.
"No matter what, I say nothing, I do nothing," Hisa echoed and if there was a wobble to her voice then neither of them spoke of it. Instead, he lifted the arm which didn't clasp his cane and beckoned her close.
His arm was heavy and warm, muscled and solid, it was a weight which rested on her shoulders. It was something she wanted to curl into and flinch away from. His rough fingertips brushed against her scalp, clasping the hair which had grown out since they'd cut it, a shaggy mess on top of her head. Neither of them spoke, he simply pressed his dry lips to the crown of her head.
"Say nothing, do nothing," he said.
He knew what he was walking into.
They both did.
No tears were shed.
(Not even when Hisa heard the sickening thud of his head leaving his body.)
AUTHOR NOTE: this was written disturbingly quick. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it though! It's very cold and callous and to the point, unlike some of my other flowery bullshit. Let me know what you guys think though!