Divergences

by Praegressus

Entrusted with knowledge of moments that will define the future, a man sets out to change the fate of the ninja world. Changing fate, however, can sometimes inspire men to rise against it. Naruto Uzumaki, Zabuza Momochi and Orochimaru are the kind of men that revolt against such a fate. Gen-fic. Marathon-fic. [LOOKING FOR NEW WRITER TO PICK THIS UP, PM ME IF INTERESTED FOR INFO]

31. Book 2 - Interlude 2: Hiroko Gaiden

'Divergences' is still on hold until spring 2016, I just dropped this update cause I can.

It builds off of Book 1's interlude chapter, and has a pseudo-M Rating, featuring mature topics and content. If you think such content would offend, skip days 56 and 71, as they're the worst offenders.

---

Day 1

She was told to pack light – the bare necessities, and nothing else. So, as she was told, she brought only her journal, a tattered old thing bound in thick leather, and the plain clothes she wore.

Finding the entrance to the building was extraordinarily difficult, as was expected of the headquarters of the village special ops and interrogation divisions. However, having been given explicit directions, the girl eventually managed to reach the entrance door, nervously glancing at the two men stationed there as she passed through. They let her pass without issue; the headquarters were specifically positioned to be impossible to find by accident, only through specific directions.

There was no formal waiting room in the entrance; right from the door she was plunged into the slowly shifting mass of clerks and officers, moving from corner to corner, scrolls and documents and high-tech tablet screens in their hands.

This almost office-like area was the entrance to the second most-secure building in the village, the headquarters of Takigakure's ANBU division… the place she demanded to be sent to…

Fact of the matter was that there was no possible legal way for her to be there; unlike the major villages, Taki had a strict policy on who can make the tattoo and who cannot – ANBU are veteran jonin, individuals with at least two decades in the field, shinobi hand-picked by veteran ANBU members… she was none of these things.

She was a mere genin, one who was still pending reassignment to a new team after her original one suffered a double casualty in their first C-turned-B Rank mission. The client had far more capable people after him, and there was little the girl could do but watch, her body frozen in terror as her two teammates were butchered, one after the other.

They must have been distracted by the carnage of their own making… or maybe they just assumed she was dead, covered in all that blood… whatever the case, the girl survived.

The medics found nothing out of the ordinary with her after that… it was the psychologists that found the problem; the genin's conditioning had kept her from losing her mind, but damage was done, and the odds of a successful recovery weren't promising… At best, she'd be a mediocre kunoichi, fit for low-clearance intelligence work.

Of course, that wasn't what worried the clan; their name was sullied by her failure, and such failures demanded exile from the clan… but how could they lobby for the expulsion of the clan head's own granddaughter?

An alternative solution was found and put into motion, only to be shot down in its' final stage by a third-party meddler; a false ambassador. Their ploy almost exposed, the conspiring elders withdrew from the public light, biding their time… only that time would apparently never come – the girl petitioned with Futaki Ishibate, somehow securing herself a spot on the next group of ANBU hopefuls.

The old woman, a recluse on the best of days and a political nuisance the rest of the time, took a liking to the genin, taking her under her wing… It was really no trouble to remind a chosen few people of some old secrets, securing the blind eyes necessary to pull something like that off.

So the girl found herself in the headquarters of Takigakure ANBU… a broken genin, enrolling in the same program that broke veteran jonin. It was madness, of that there was no doubt, but it was also the only thing she could possibly do – her kidnapper, the young man with the shovel, made it very clear that her only choices were to get strong or die…

She closed her eyes, standing close to one of the desks, trying to take up as little room as possible. Whoever was supposed to bring her into the program would have no trouble finding the obvious outsider in the room…

"Genin," came a voice from her side, startling her. Turning towards its' owner with wide eyes, the girl paled at the colossus before her, a dark-skinned giant with a gritty look to him and a week-old beard swallowing the lower half of his head. His uniform, otherwise indistinct from the uniforms of every other person in the building, bore a small sigil below the front pocket, indicating the man's position as Lieutenant.

"Yes sir?" she blurted out, straightening out reflexively – it hardly mattered though, as the man still towered over her.

"Follow," he commanded, walking past the desk and into the back of the office area.

Shadowing him as she was told to, the girl kept walking, small duffle bag in hand. She wondered if the imposing man could be the ANBU Captain; she had heard quite a few rumors about his achievements, but little to none about his appearance… it was a long shot, but still possible…

Hopefully not… merely knowing the man would make her stick out worse than she already did, and in an environment like this one, that was in no way a good idea.

As they left the offices behind them, the last few clerk ninja sneaking surprised glances at the hulking man and the comparatively tiny girl trailing behind him, the two eventually reached the first of the hallways.

Long, bleak, illuminated by lights that looked to be about as old as the village itself, the corridors seemed to stretch for hours… the silence grew increasingly more uneasy to her, but words still refused to come, keeping the journey quiet.

After a while, they reached a single wooden door, secured by a keycard slot. The man's giant arm swiped a comparatively miniscule keycard into the port, pulling on the knob even before the confirmatory click.

"Through here, " he commanded, moving to the side with dexterity one wouldn't expect of a man of that size, shinobi or not.

Nodding her head, the girl walked past him, stepping into a considerably more modern-looking corridor, hearing the door click shut behind her mere moments later.

With a deep breath and another sharp nod, neither of which really reassured her all that much, the girl continued down the hallway, towards the younger-looking ninja that stood there with an expectant look on his face.

Like his colleague, the man sported a Lieutenant's badge, as well as a good height advantage over the girl… unlike him; however, this one was actually smiling, a long-extinguished cigarette hanging between his lips.

"Ah… why do we always get stuck with your kind, hm?" he muttered, eyeing the girl carefully.

"…"

She wanted to say something in her defense, to point out that he had no reason to say it like she was some kind of blight on the village… but again, no words came. Her voice, which had failed her when she was supposed to warn her team and save their lives, failed her again and again…

"Kidnapped by the man responsible for the largest security breach in years, left alive by a duo of psychopath nuke-nins and now enrolled in our little program… you get around, don't you, little girl?"

"I…um…"

"No, it's ok…" he mused, stroking his non-existent beard, "I know exactly who you are, young Hiroko… even though I have no clue as to how you actually got here…"

He scratched the back of his head for a moment, pinching the cigarette from his lips and chucking in down the hallway rather carelessly before continuing: "You embarrass your entire clan… a fairly influential clan, the Ishibate, mind you; and instead of getting the boot, you get a sponsorship…"

Finally, losing his taste for standing in place, the man began walking down the hallway, motioning for the girl to follow; she did, eyes glued to the floor and cheeks flushed from the humiliation.

"No comment, eh?"

"…"

"You know what? I like that… I like the fact that you're quiet. The problem with hopefuls is always in the fact that they think they know better, having been in the field and whatnot… If they're so good, why are they coming to me, then?"

"…"

"I'll tell you… it's because I'm what they could've been. Every time a veteran jonin sees the tattoo, they're reminded of what they didn't accomplish, what they couldn't do... You're familiar with the feeling, right?"

This seemed to finally get through to the girl, who lowered her head a bit more; trying her best to silence the oncoming sobs… a futile effort, of course.

'It wasn't my fault... I wanted to warn them, but then I just…. I just…'

"Tears? Girl, we haven't even made it into the barracks, and you're already in tears?"

Of course, she gave no reply, merely walking along with the man, still pointlessly trying to subdue her own sobbing. Her fingers clutched the hope handle of her duffle bag tighter and tighter, turning her knuckles white; to her eyes, the world blurred a bit, tears and memories flooding her vision.

"Oh for… Hey!"

Raising his voice obviously helped, as the girl immediately raised her head, looking at him with wide, slightly reddish eyes. He could obviously see the tears, but she made a good show of pretending they weren't there.

"Yes, sir?" came her voice, surprisingly even for one whose owner had just forced herself to stop crying.

"Yes, Lieutenant Hiro, sir," he corrected, giving a half-smirk that seemed equally malicious and friendly, "I was given the dubious honor of handling the program's youngest participant to date, which means that when you inevitably crash and burn, it's my ass they'll be pressing to that red-hot grill. So, you are going to stay perfectly quiet and obedient, never speaking unless spoken to. "

As instructed, the girl said nothing. This little detail threatened to stretch the man's smirk into a smile, if only for a moment. He might have dodged this bullet after all...

The silence lingered a bit longer, long enough for the duo to abandon the lengthy hallway and duck into a slightly different part of the building. Before she knew it, Hiroko was walking by door upon door, each one adorned with a plate more ominous than the last – rooms like 'torture', 'cadaver storage and 'The Hook Room' stuck out more than the other, militaristic-yet-benign ones.

"You met Lieutenant Kamon, and now you've met me… The two of us could be a workable example of what you can expect. He's scary, sadistic, mean and unfriendly, while I'm a bit less scary…"

They walked past a small room labeled 'showers', despite her best attempt to focus on the Lieutenant, Hiroko couldn't help but notice that the room was sparsely larger than a broom closet, yet was stacked with at least half a dozen showerheads.

"… comfort here is assigned based on merit. Anything asked of the hopefuls is expected from the commanding officers; if you think you're being singled out with tough or demeaning tasks, you have every right to file a report to one of our superiors – if the one who gave you the order can't do it him or herself, they get the boot and a session in the amnesia ward."

"The amnesia ward?"

*Smack*

Shocked, the girl merely stared at the man who so casually backhanded her, momentarily ignoring the searing pain dancing across her left cheek, a cheek that was now obviously turning red.

"…"

The lieutenant, for his part, didn't look like he enjoyed doing it too much; after shaking his hand loosely, he merely continued walking, "Forgetfulness is frowned upon here. I tried to be a nice guy and give you an order that matched your silent demeanor, and you just had to go and break my heart, didn't you?"

"…"

"That's better."

While her heart was beating faster, Hiroko dared not feel anything about the hit she was forced to suffer. It was her own demand that got her here, and if obedience was required, then obedient she would be; Futaki-sama granted her this wish, and she wasn't going to squander the opportunity.

They passed a room labeled 'bunks', which was, unsurprisingly, just a plain empty room with murky brown stone tiles as the floor.

A quick trip up a flight of wooden stairs, past an ANBU agent wearing an almost-blank mask (it had a swirly pattern done in thick black ink across the right side) led the two to a door that simply read 'captain'. Lieutenant Hiro pushed the door open without knocking.

"Young Hiroko, you have the rare honor of meeting the esteemed Captain Hashigawa, head of Takigakure's ANBU."

The room, she immediately noted, was the first area in the entire complex that looked even remotely livable, with a small window in the uppermost corner of the back wall and an ivory bookshelf, one that must've cost a fortune. However, that was only the first impression – it didn't take long for her to notice the entire wall of wanted posters on the side of the room, and the stacks of cages, and the rabbits contained within them, stacked on the opposite end.

And the smoke… there was so much smoke…

"Alright, I'm done with you for the day," the lieutenant announced, spinning on his heel and stepping out of the office, "I expect you to be present for the morning call."

With that said, the young-looking lieutenant disappeared, leaving the girl, with her duffel bag and still puffy eyes, alone in the room with the Captain of the village's black ops division; a division she needed to be part of.

The captain wasn't that remarkable a man, at first sight. He looked bulkier than Hiro, less so than Kamon, and sported a shaggy mane of smoky gray hair. His teeth, visible due to the smile with which he greeted her, were yellow and bore signs of repeated reconstruction by medical jutsu. There was a still-smoking smoking pipe lying upside-down in the ashtray on the table, and the man obviously had no intention of setting it straight.

"So…" he began, his voice gravelly and deep, as expected of a man of his age and apparent tobacco abuse, "… fourteen years old, and thinks she has what it takes to be one of my ANBU."

"Yes, sir," Hiroko replied, finding that the sheer terror she was feeling at meeting this man gave her voice a sternness and strength she didn't know it could have.

Hashigawa nodded at that. The girl reeked of fear, that much was obvious, but the old hag's claim that there was steel to her might not have been an exaggeration – her traumatic experiences left open wounds on her soul, he could tell, but it wasn't irreparable damage… in fact, her vulnerable state might be what qualifies her best for the program...

Then again, he always was too romantic for a man who runs one of the toughest units in the known shinobi world, a claim his brother never missed a chance to repeat, several times over if possible.

"Alright, genin," he spoke, heavily accenting her rank, "grab yourself a rabbit, with or without a cage – I don't care. Once you're done with that, you've free reign of the facility for the rest of the day… though I suggest you find a comfortable patch of floor, as this is likely the last opportunity you'll have to get a good night's sleep."

Doing as she was told, she wasted no time in picking up the first cage she could reach, barely sparing a glance to the brown-furred creature contained within. The door closed on its' own behind her, and the masked ANBU merely pointed in the direction where the 'bunks' room was.

Nodding, Hiroko clutched the rickety cage tighter to her chest, walking down the hallway with determination; she was part of the program now, and it was time she acted like it. Emotions could wait… indefinitely, if necessary.

But what of the rabbit? She should name him, if only for simplicity's sake; couldn't go around calling him 'rabbit'… but that would create an unnecessary emotional bond, and if the program is the way she expects it to be, odds are that she'll have to kill it sooner or later…

"Marudoko..." she muttered, knowing full well that she would one day regret giving him a name.

---

Day 24

Days passed amazingly quickly in the program.

She had been given a uniform, a dull gray bodysuit that was no different from the ones that her much, much older fellow hopefuls wore – it was the smallest they had, and it still hung limply from her tiny frame, further cementing the impression that she was merely a kid playing at being grown up.

On the flip-side, the ninja tools assigned to her were top-of-the-line, the kind of gear she expected that a unit of the ANBU's renown would use. Lieutenant Hiro, her assigned supervisor, had no problems tutoring her in the finer points of being a shinobi and part of the ANBU, forcefully covering up years of experiences through simulated scenarios, fictive missions, and at one point, even written tests. While her decision-making was on point more often than not, she was still, in his words 'too genin for the field'.

To make matters worse, every misstep, even the smallest, most benign one, was rewarded with generous physical punishment, most often in the form of a violent slap. Every hit stung for hours on end, but couldn't say anything – the lieutenant's ears were never too far away.

The daily routine wasn't much better. She'd wake up before the sun, squeeze among the mass of bodies that rushed to the showers while they operated, brushing against many a things she never, ever wanted to brush against, watch as the senior hopefuls marched out of the halls on their missions, watch as the senior hopefuls return from their missions with emptiness in their eyes and blood on their recently washed hands, hopelessly try and keep up with Hiro's regime, partake in Kamon's merciless physical training regime, and that was all before 'happy hour'.

Happy hour, as the hopefuls called it, was the part of the evening when you waited in line to get the daily cocktail of drugs shoved into your veins, only to be dragged off for a light interrogation session, enduring kinds of mental violence as colorful and as varied as the drugs themselves.

Before curfew hit, she'd get half an hour of free time to use as she saw fit, mostly to hang out with Marudoko, feeding him scraps of whatever she could smuggle from the mess hall, just like everyone else…

"No free time today, hopefuls. Meet in the gym in two minutes, those who are late get the boot."

Almost immediately, the ANBU in training began leaping from their 'bunks' (piles of pilfered clothes, mostly), dashing out of the room without concern for their stuff, or even their own safety. Hiroko, whose small frame and lack of knowledge regarding the building's layout did her no favors, made it in time due to the sheer coincidence that she was standing close to the door when the announcement went off.

With three seconds to spare, she took her spot in the lineup, standing perfectly still and silent, listening to the outraged cries of the two or three hopefuls who had the misfortune of arriving too late. She knew one of them by name – he gave her half a carrot to feed Marudoko with, when she first asked him about how she was supposed to keep him alive.

Still, she couldn't afford to let his early departure get to her – the actual dying didn't even start.

Wordlessly, the Lieutenant handed her a standard chunin vest, waiting until she had put it on. She quickly checked it for anything extraordinary, such as spikes or explosive tags, finding neither. Giving a resigned sigh, she put it on, the corner of her lips curving ever so slightly upwards when the last of the buttons clicked into place.

Unfortunately, the titan officer noticed that expression, mimicking it perfectly.

"500 laps, 1 hour." He spoke in his deep baritone, the smirk turning sadistic. He placed a finger on the girl's vest, flooding it with chakra.

Almost immediately, the vest quintupled in weight, feeling like a massive block of metal on her shoulders, rather than clothing. She tried keeping her cool, but her knees soon betrayed her, buckling underneath her and sending her crashing painfully into the ground.

She bit back a curse, trying to keep herself from crying out with the sudden weight and pain. The officer just looked down, repeating his words. "500 laps, 1 hour," then, as an afterthought, "genin."

Forcing her body to obey, Hiroko brought herself into a quasi-sitting position, completely ignoring the ANBU hopefuls who were running around with a steady pace. Her legs already hurt, but she willed them to straighten up, bringing herself to a shaky stand.

One step, followed by another. There was no way she could make 500 laps, time limit or not. Still, she had to try, she owed that much to Futaki-sama.

Her pace was unsteady, dangerous even. With so much weight added, she was one slip up away from falling and breaking something... she doubted that the program would look upon injury kindly.

One lap was done. The other trainees looked at her with amusement in their eyes; the rest of their faces frozen in the stony expressionless mask that she too was taught to wear. Her body seared with pain, every step feeling worse than the one before... Was this really what being strong meant? Enduring pain like this?

Another lap, this time much slower. 10 would be a miracle, let alone 500. Her breath was shortening with each step, only a bullheaded determination to prove the giant officer wrong keeping her moving.

Maybe if she could somehow lighten the vest with her own chakra... However, before she could try and entertain the idea, she tripped.

No, it wasn't she who tripped, somebody tripped her. One of her 'comrades' stuck out his foot, causing her to crash to the floor. The pain that she had struggled to keep under control was now completely free, flooding her in a sharp, punishing wave.

She wanted to keep silent, to keep her words to herself, but the pain was overwhelming. There was only so much a fourteen year old body could take.

"I don't want to do this anymore..." She muttered, hands desperately trying to remove the damned vest. Her legs were flaring, her knee felt broken, her breath was ragged, and she wanted more than anything to just leave that place.

"Mind repeating that, genin?" Came the lieutenant's voice from somewhere behind her.

"..."

He was waiting for this... This whole charade was meant to push her like this, to showher just how stupid her idea was. A genin who allowed her teammates to die isn't supposed to try for ANBU... It was simply absurd.

"Halt!" Boomed the man's voice, immediately silencing the rapid batter of feet that rang out through the gymnasium. Two more steps rang out, then suddenly the weight of the vest completely disappeared.

Hiroko struggled to her feet, only to be shoved down by the large man's hand: "Failure to measure up is punished in this program, genin." The sadistic undertone in his voice made her want to shiver, but she knew better than to show such weakness.

"Beat her." He commanded, standing up and turning his back to the girl.

"YES SIR!" Rang out the collective reply. They all remembered the times they've gotten that very vest, the times they too had failed at the sadist's challenge, the times they too were beaten by their comrades. Refusing orders got you kicked from the program. Do so with attitude, and the prick would pull strings to make alternate means of making ANBU a living hell.

So they did as they were told.

oOoOoOo

She hated him.

Lt. Hiro was right when he said she'd grow to hate them all. She did, mostly because of their support of this fucked-up system. But she hated him most of all.

After she had been beaten, kicked and tossed around the gym as nothing more than a rag, Hiroko was left alone in the now dark gym, the last words told to her being the location of the medic's office.

She couldn't keep lying there... if it was another test, she couldn't afford to fail. Judging from the sharpness of the pain, she had at least three cracked ribs and way too many lesser injuries to count. It was amusing, actually. She remembered one of her first lessons with Hiro, the one about hurting people without causing lasting damage. He claimed it wouldn't be too long until she felt something similar.

At least her arms were ok. She could drag herself to the medic's office... unless she passes out from the pain, first, that is. Surprisingly enough, her arms moved on her own, the desire to stay a part of this cursed program outweighing her natural aversion to pain.

Maybe it was the numbing hurt clouding her mind that made time go by faster... before she knew it; she was dragging herself through the last stretch of the hallway to the office. She was afraid to look at herself, fearing that seeing the beating's effect on her own body would be enough to discourage her from pressing on.

She was so close, after all. What was a little more, right?

Knocking on the door hurt worse than dragging herself across the ground, but she barely even noticed it. After the third knock, the door opened to reveal a woman well into her later years, looking down at her with a look of disgust.

"Already?" The woman asked, raising an eyebrow at the battered and bloody girl at her feet, "Alright, let's fix you up..."

The burly woman had little issue picking Hiroko up like little more than a sack of produce, completely ignoring the pained groan that followed. She threw her onto one of the beds, readying the Mystical Palm Technique.

The dark-haired girl had nearly fainted from the wave of hurt that shot though her body due to the woman's harsh handling, but she still hung on, desperate to not let go of her fragile grip on consciousness. If she could survive this, she could survive everything… at least, that was her reasoning.

The woman's technique was on point, alleviating some of the pain, enough to make speaking an option once again... Still, Hiroko had nothing to say to the woman, so she kept her mouth firmly shut. It was her job to fix people up, so she found no reason to thank her for doing her job.

Maybe she was being overly bitter, but after having to drag herself across the entirety of the first floor with broken ribs and mild internal bleeding, she felt entitled to feel that way.

When it came to medical techniques, the more superficial the injury, the easier it was to heal. Scratches and cuts were the easiest, followed by sprains and other lesser mechanical damage. Exhaustion damage came next, followed my bone fractures and organ damage. The hardest to heal were lost limbs, poisons and burns of any kind.

Hiroko's injuries, for all their hurting, weren't too serious, able to be fixed in a single session with the experienced medic.

"Lay there for another hour or two, and then head to dinner. Next time they beat on you, protect the ribs, much harder to heal than the face."

'Yeah, ok. Next time I'll let them kick my face in, so you don't have to exert yourself..." Thought the girl bitterly, wishing that she could cross her arms without feeling like her ribcage was being crushed.

Was this the kind of thing she needed to get used to in order to become strong? Was such strength worth it?

She couldn't think straight... her thoughts jumping between the still agonizing pain and the desire to murder the Lieutenant in cold blood. Neither train was particularly helpful, however, so instead she tried to focus on silencing her troubled mind.

What kind of psycho did this to a damn kid? What that what the Iwa-nin meant when he talked about the ANBU? People who would follow orders regardless of whether they felt it was right? People cold enough to hurt a simple genin?

She closed her eyes, slowly shaking her head. No, he meant something else... but what?

"Hey kid..." the medic drawled, returning to the room with a cup of coffee in her meaty hand, "What possessed you come try for ANBU?"

"..."

Again, no words. If she spoke, would the woman swing at her as well? She wouldn't risk it, staying silent was safer, more comfortable.

"Quiet, huh? Yeah, I guess getting some of Kamon's treatment would kill any desire to chat... Still, you're just a kid, how'd you even get into this program?"

She just gave the woman a look, trying to convey the message that she really wasn't in the mood for talking. The woman seemed to notice, nodding her head in acceptance.

"So, you leaving tomorrow? Staying here isn't right for you, kid. Even if you do make it, you won't be the same, you know that, right?"

"I'm not leaving," Hiroko replied, finding her voice for the first time since the mistake that earned her the beating.

The medic didn't seem impresses. "Suit yourself. I'm paid for this, so it's really no issue how many times I have to put you back together... And trust me; it's going to be a lot of times."

Hiroko shook her head, taking the ether mask that was hanging within reach, and placing it over her face. Inhaling deep, the girl allowed herself the small comfort of drifting into a dreamless sleep.

---

Day 56

"So, how are you finding your stay so far?" Inquired the smiling lieutenant with the cigar in his mouth, taking a seat opposite of the obviously worn-out girl.

"Exhilarating. I've learned so many new things, sir." She deadpanned.

In truth, she's been having trouble sleeping lately. Between the weekly beatings, which she now knew were standard for all of the program participants, the approaching deadline for her first mission with the sociopaths, and the steady dosage of various drugs she had been forced to take along with dinner, the girl was surprised she was functioning as well as she was.

Then again, she almost let some guy old enough to be her dad scrub her back and give her a massage in the shower; just because she couldn't be bothered to care... maybe she wasn't as well-off as she thought herself to be.

The officer smiled. "Good... great even. I love it that you kept your youthful enthusiasm almost two months into the program. I was afraid you'd give in once we started you on the meds."

Hiroko said nothing. He wasn't asking a question; therefore she wasn't allowed to speak. These days it was rare for her to slip up and speak when not expected to, despite the rather troubling state she was in.

"First question: How is the rabbit?"

"He is doing well. He seems to have gained some weight."

The lieutenant scratched his head, wondering whether he should admonish her for the unnecessary info, but eventually decided to let it slide.

"Second question: Who is your superior officer you most wish to kill?"

"I do not wish to kill my superior officers, sir." She answered lazily, trying to fight off the oncoming wave of exhaustion and nausea. They'd have to do a lot more than the standard beating if they wanted an honest answer to that question, even if it was an obvious one.

"Right..." Hiro trailed off, lighting another cigarette and puffing a cloud into the girl's face, seeing that she didn't even flinch.

"Third question: What is your opinion on the village's jinchuriki?"

"Never met the soul." She replied in an even tone.

"And your opinion on jinchuriki in general?" He continued, not missing a beat.

"I like them they make me feel all fuzzy inside." She replied, smirking.

Pain rung throughout her head for a brief moment, and she found herself sprawled on out on the floor. The lieutenant had apparently lacked a taste for her tired humor, as evidenced by the fact that he was shaking his hand slowly, and the fact that the entire left side of her face burned as if she had been nuzzling up to a belt-sander.

Slowly, but steadily, she stood up, sitting back down in her chair. The stinging sensation will stick for another ten minutes, she reckoned, but the plus side was that she was no longer in danger of drifting off anymore.

"My apologies sir. I have no opinion on jinchuriki, as I've not met the one in our village yet. In general, I am hesitant to agree to the idea of sealing such power into lone individuals."

This answer seemed to mollify the lieutenant somewhat, as he relaxed into his chair once again.

"Young Hiroko, I was afraid you were slipping there for a second."

Once again, she said nothing, earning a pleased smile from the man.

"Fourth question: Did you, at any point, regret enrolling in the program?"

She gave a resigned sigh, following up with a weak nod, "Yes."

"Clarify." He spoke.

"First time on my 24th day in the program. It was a sporadically recurring thought ever since."

"Fifth question: Do you want to leave the program?"

"No." The answer was immediate.

So far, she was doing well... aside from the bit with the third question, that is. To be completely honest, he didn't think the girl would take it well at all, and for the greater part, he was right. Still, she hung on, refusing to give up no matter how miserable they made her life; and they sure as hell tried. However, the goal wasn't to make them quit, but to make them quit bad enough that they'd make the mistake of saying it.

"Last question: Are you ready to do your first real work as a prospective member of Takigakure's ANBU black ops?"

This time, the girl took her time to consider the question. They could ask her to do almost anything, and she'd be obliged to do it... not only that, but she would have to do it in the miserable state she was in...

"Mentally, I'm ready; physically I may endanger the mission." She answered, deciding to try her luck with the truth.

The lieutenant took a long drag at his cigarette, turning a considerable chunk of it into fine grey ash. He soon stood up, walking towards the door. "Follow, young Hiroko, there is a man you need to meet."

oOoOoOo

Interrogation rarely, if ever, was a solely physical affair.

Sure enough, many specialists operated throughout the ninja nations, their ability to extract truth through physical pain being refined enough to threaten even those with the hardest of wills. Such specialists, however, were often used as the last resort, the metaphorical battering ram to bring down the last of the prisoner's defenses; when they were tired out, messed with and pretty much broken already.

The particular bloke who they brought in was little more than a starter spy, a chunin doing one of his first real jobs in enemy territory. Though personal error, or plain bad luck, the guy got caught, hauled into the village blind and deaf, bound about as tight as an S-Ranked ninja, and dumped at the ANBU's doorstep.

The introduction round had already been seen to by another applicant, so it was up to Hiroko to either turn up the pressure, or try to unsettle him with a very early good cop routine. That was the plan, anyway...

"Guy didn't even give us the name..." Hiro mumbled, remembering his overall displeasure at the situation, "I'm not expecting a miracle, genin, but if you don't get me a lead of some kind, you'll be taking a turn in that chair."

Of course, the 'interrogations' they held during happy hour were casual, almost fun little trips in comparison to the goings-on within the T&I operation. The way some people tell it, some days you can't be sure who belongs in the cage and who belongs in the uniform...

Hiroko sighed again, wanting little else than to just crawl into her bed without 20 milligrams of something in her blood and just get a good night's rest. That, as well as a permanent end to the beatings...maybe a new book? She would be so happy if she could get her hands on a new book...

"Alright, young Hiroko meet Smiley." Hiro introduced with a grin, pushing the girl into the small interrogation room. The man dubbed as 'Smiley' raised his head, making some of the chains he was bound with rattle. He looked as if he was dragged across the bottom of a lake, which, considering where he ended up, was actually a surprisingly likely scenario.

"A little girl?" He asked, eyes darkening a bit, voice pumped full of violent disbelief.

She thought he'd carry on with the outrage, the thrashing... most in his position would... but the man just grinned, licking his lips. "How kind of you, Lieutenant... Untie me and give us a couple of minutes alone and I just might be persuaded to cooperate by your extraordinary hospitality." He finished, giving her a wink.

Said lieutenant walked out of the room without reacting, leaving the two of them alone. The moment the door clicked closed; Hiroko walked over and slapped the man hard enough to knock over both him and the chair.

"Do you know what the first lesson that they taught me here was?" She asked, voice never once deviating from the emotionless drone that her last Team 2 mission had turned it into.

The man's head probably rung from its' sudden collision with the hard ground, but he seemed motivated enough to grin and shoot her a thirsty look, "That they like it when you moan?"

She punted him in the stomach, setting off a violent coughing fit. As he wheezed and struggled for breath, she walked over to one of the chairs, placing her coat over it.

As for the coat's origins, they were simple enough; she won it in one of the program goers' betting pools... Simple black leather, a trench coat cut, looks far better than the mesh shirt she used to wear. Maybe if she survived this whole thing, she'd find some kind of long-sleeved, all-weather shirt to wear under it. The girly part of her that still remained wanted to squeal at how cool it looked, but that part was silent for a while now…

She turned back to the guy, crouching down and grunting as she pulled the chair and its' occupant back into their starting positions.

Then, once he was up, she slapped him back down again.

"Yes, they do." She deadpanned, giving him a sidelong glare, "Any further failure to comply, and I will floor you again."

He spat, missing by a wide margin due to the difficult perspective inflicted upon him by the repeated slaps. Realizing that no punishment is coming, he smirked, even though the side of his face was burning and flushed.

Satisfied, HIroko picked him up once more, checked his bindings (extraordinary bindings they were, fitted ceramic plates that prevented hand and abdominal motion, amongst other things), then sat into her own chair.

"Where were you supposed to meet your teammates? Otogakure spies rarely, if ever, work alone." She began, choosing to start with the question she intended to have him answer right away.

"Oh, I don't rightly know, darling. Maybe if you showed me what you're hiding under that shirt, I might be persuaded to share."

She blinked, obviously not amused.

"Are underage girls your primary sexual fetish? Is that a requirement in your village?" She asked.

A year ago, she'd never, not even in her wildest dreams, imagine herself asking that question with a straight face. These days, it not only came easier to her... it was bordering on fun.

The man threw on his lecherous grin once again, intent on trying to get under her skin... one way or another. "Long hair, sweetie. Long hair and that innocent look in your eyes. Oh I can hardly wait to bend you over your captain's desk and hear you squeal..."

A tired smirk came to her lips, "You tell me where your teammates are, and if your story checks out... I might even let you keep my panties."

His grin grew wider, the man shifting in his seat. "Ooh, I like you... More than the pompous fuck they brought in to scare me earlier, that's for sure."

Nodding, Hiroko undid the two topmost buttons of her shirt, revealing a large part of her underdeveloped chest. Some kunoichi would consider it an issue, but she wasn't suffering through this because she was interested in infiltration and intelligence gathering.

She tossed her hair slightly, speaking in a low, almost seductive tone, "You're not bending anyone over... You understand that, right?"

"And you understand that I ain't gonna tell you shit. Despite the generous view you are supplying me with, me singing would mean that the fucking snake would follow me into hell to get his vengeance... and that's not something I'm looking forward to." Smiley spoke, repeating the same tired words the small room with the dark grey walls had heard so many times before... with choice variations, of course.

Her amicable expression gone, Hirokoleaned back in her chair, focusing on what she knew.

The man was a pervert, though not to a degree where that would be an exploitable weakness. He was scared of Otogakure's leader, who was proven to be none other than the sannin, Orochimaru, in the recent exams in Konoha... He was also vengeful, as evidenced by his desire to try and irk her somehow, even though silence was clearly the far superior option.

"What's your name?"

"Didn't smoky tell ya? I'm Smiley."

"Why were you spying on the Waterfall, Smiley?" She continued, unperturbed.

"I heard I could catch a glimpse of your sweet ass, so I had to come and check." He replied fairly quickly, making good use of the quick wit all bound men seem do develop.

Hiroko crossed her hands, "Does Orochimaru like to watch?"

"Huh?"

She stood up and slapped him.

"Ow! Fuck! I thought we were building a genuine connection here!"

"Does he like to watch?" She repeated.

"What the fuck!?" He eloquently replied.

Another slap, while he was still on the ground. The man cursed and struggled to get up, but his bindings made the herculean effort he was putting in look like little more than helpless flopping around. She kept staring at him with clear grey eyes, driving her palm against his face over and over. After the fifth hit, he stopped splashing.

"I'll fucking kill you!" He cursed, struggling against the bindings harder than before. If she didn't know any better, she might've been intimidated by the display of defiance. Unfortunately for him, however, she was no longer a clueless little girl; experience slowly snuffed her naivety and emotions, leaving a cool and analytical shell.

But she didn't feel hollow... at least not yet. "Where? Laboratories? The village itself? Baths? Under a bridge?"

There.

That minute twitch there... that split-second hesitance between his receiving of the input and his decision to act. If this was a chunin, she doubted it was a particularly good one.

That, or she just had amazing talent for interrogation. In any event, her job there was done... she got new information, a new direction in which the interrogation could be taken. If there was something to be done about it, she wasn't the person to do it anymore. All that remained for her was to turn the mission in - go finish up this miserable day.

"Thank you for your cooperation." She smiled, crouching next to the man. Then slowly, very slowly, she began buttoning up.

One...two.

Throwing her coat on, Hiroko turned around and clambered up the stairs, leaving good old Smiley alone once again. Up above, in the monitor room, Lieutenant Hiro was waiting. The cigarette in his teeth was once again replaced, but he didn't look too enthusiastic.

"Report." He demanded.

"The main meeting place was a bridge. If the trail isn't already cold, you might get lucky with one of the stationed guards... If these guys are as pathetic as the one in there, someone's bound to have noticed."

"Alright then," he nodded, smirking, "you have the rest of the day on premium rest. No happy hour, no gym activities. You've earned it, kid."

She nodded. "Thank you."

He swung his arm and slapped her, sending a pulse of white-hot pain radiating across her cheek. The sound echoed in the empty room, further amplifying the shocking suddenness of his action. Hiroko took it surprisingly well, though, holding a hand up to her flaring cheek and giving a nod of understanding before disappearing into the hallways.

The lieutenant did little else other than the same thing he always did when he was pleased: he re-lit his cigarette and smirked.

She wandered down the halls, making her way to the showers. Quickly and efficiently shedding her clothes, she ducked under the surprisingly hot water, letting her thoughts flow free; But that wasn't such a good idea...

Every bone in her body hurt, every muscle burned, the cheek worst of all. It wasn't the physical that hurt her, however; it was the doubts. She doubted her ability to persevere, to endure their testing, their beating, their teasing, and their... program.

It was designed to break her, and it was doing just that. Her will was faltering, whittled away by the constant pressure they kept her under. Even the brief respite this 'premium rest' would earn her wouldn't be enough... it would be about as good as a drop of water in the desert sun.

What would be the endgame, the 'be all end all'? Would she end up strong? Or would the chase for power ruin her? How long would she be able to take this abuse without going completely hollow like the full-blooded ANBU you sometimes saw in the village? When they finally sent her to kill someone, would she even flinch?

When she was done with this, would any of the innocent, flighty, bookish child that she was before the Grass mission remain?

Innocence... it wasn't much in the ninja world, but a part of her cherished it. Her innocence, the same thing that served to fuel the twisted passions of men like Smiley... it was a part of her she didn't want to let go.

But if she held on... wouldn't she just stay weak? Wouldn't she still be the girl that ninja could just sweep from her home? The girl that would take the elders' poison without a second thought?

This... this just wouldn't end, wouldn't it? It would keep going on...and on...and on. It was a ninja's life after all, a life of misery with moments of happiness that are few and far in between. It was a life she had chosen for herself in order to make her parents proud...

But they too wanted to cast her out of the clan, didn't they? Futaki-sama was the one who believed in her, but if she failed her...

Her hand reached out, turning the water down... Yet drops still rolled down her cheeks, and she couldn't be bothered to stop them.

---

Day 71

Borderside towns were oft trafficked by the nations' ninja. In fact, border towns had the highest ratio of ninja showdowns than any other location in the continents, including the hidden villages themselves. Maybe it was the high foot traffic, maybe it was the positioning...

In any case, such towns always had three things about them: a tavern, a gambling hall, and a brothel.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

*Smack*

Ok, this one she asked for... How could she not, though? Hiro had brought her in front of a brothel, and the smirk on his face was anything but reassuring. Still, for all his heartlessness, the lieutenant valued humor above savagery. "Welcome to ANBU," he chuckled, pointing to the door. With that, he handed her a mission folder, spun on his heel, and walked away.

She sighed, walking towards the brothel.

According to the mission logs, she was inserted under the name 'Estia', a down and out girl from the village hidden in the grass. That was actually funny; her being from the grass... it was almost poetic, actually. Instead of being a scared little girl from the waterfall, she was a scared little whore from the grass.

But of course, that was just part of the process. Mentally, she might hold on to her purity, but physically... this wasn't a mission she could refuse. Even the bloody mission file said that a medical checkup awaits her upon return, to verify that she was indeed 'no longer a maiden'.

It was sickening... Civilian girls of her age thought about little more than their scholarly duties and the visits to the temple, maybe the occasional light flirtation with some nice boy from the village. She had to give up her maidenhood to some random old lecher in a brother in the middle of east bumblefuck village... But she'd be doing it for ANBU... Fucking ANBU.

Was this being strong? Sleeping around with old fucks that couldn't score on their own? Pathetic.

But it was for ANBU, so she'd do it, no questions asked... at least not out loud.

She sighed.

It was a dark world out there. People were butchered, cut down in their own homes on the whim of criminals and maniacs. Children were dragged into militaristic ninja societies, forced to kill one another in giant 'exams', nothing more than gladiatorial battles for the amusement of elders who have long since passed their prime. At thirteen a girl would bear child, and no one would bat an eye... Chastity was out the window, followed closely by moderation and patience. It was all one giant cluster-fuck.

So yeah... she was slightly pissed.

Once inside, she scowled at the usual, almost predictable layout of the brothel, with separated areas for the groups, the VIP customers, and the common passer-by who stopped to sleep in a warm bed with a woman in his arms. At least the Madame looked slightly different than expected, being a tall, dark-skinned woman with piercing green eyes and hair so short that it looked more like a shadow on her bare skin than anything else.

The moment she had spotted the folder, the woman smiled in the way experienced women do, motioning to the girl to join her. "Come, come, sweet thing. You and I have lots to discuss."

Hiroko did as she was told, sitting down on the bar stool next to the Madame. The folder was gently plucked from her hands, set on fire by way of one of the ambient lanterns. As she watched the ninja document go up in flames, the woman seemed unusually gleeful.

"Y'know, honey... I get ninja types all the time in this here establishment..." She spoke, trailing off as a way to signal that it was the girl's turn to speak.

ANBU taught her better than that, though. Hiroko kept silent, watching the woman with unflinching grey eyes. To handle the madness of the shinobi world as a civilian was nothing short of commendable, but this lady looked like she got her experience elsewhere... Genin dropout, maybe? Nuke-nin? Was this the actual mission?

"Silent?" The madame pouted, interlocking her fingers, "Oh well... I was hired to put you to work, and put you to work I shall. A client is supposed to arrive in an hour or two, some kind of scholar..."

She smiled, "I'm sure you'll take care of him just fine..."

Yet again, Hiroko said nothing. It was her way, the silence, after all, the way she'd handle the lecher as well... at least she's getting a C-Rank's pay for it...

Led to a moderately large corner room, Hiroko was given the house rules of the brothel, some basic instructions on handling clients, as well a knife... should things get out of hand. She actually smirked at that last bit, refraining from pointing out that she was considerably more dangerous without the knife than with it.

At least it was a nice room. Mahogany hues, a large bed, small table just large enough for a romantic dinner, should that be what the client desires... She had no doubt that, if she was in the mood for exploring, she'd find all kinds of toys, aids and other interesting objects.

Hopefully the client won't be too demanding... though when it came down to it, she really wasn't in a position to refuse...

Fucking ANBU.

Though maybe, much like her, he too would 'pack light'.

Chuckling at her own thoughts, Hiroko began undressing, folding and stashing her coat in one of the (thankfully empty) wardrobes, adding her boots, tabi and gauntlets to the pile. With that done, she found a small bookcase containing a somewhat infamous series - the 'Icha Icha' Trilogy. Giving a shrug, she tossed the two latter books onto her clothes, turning to the first page on the oldest of the novels.

It was actually quite the amusing story, if somewhat vivid for her tastes. The protagonist was a wandering sage, seeking a truth in his life... He doesn't quite find it, but there's a steady supply of voluptuous women to distract him from the fact that he's doing little else but growing older.

Smiley would like it... was he even alive anymore?

She does remember something about a frustrated ANBU hopeful trainee bashing his head in with a chair, but that could've been a rumor for all she knew. Hiro was surprisingly tight-lipped about it, and asking Kamon wasn't even an option, lest she somehow draws his wrath once more.

Maybe the client was a fan? Perhaps he'd ask for her to reenact a scene of it for him?

Before she could entertain the idea more thoroughly, though, the door simply swung open. Lingering in the door frame for only a few moments, the man gave a grin, throwing his travel bag across the room, smirking at the loud thud the crash produced. He turned to the girl, noticing the novel in her hand and raising an eyebrow; this was not what he had expected, that was for certain...

Hiroko's eyes rose from the novel's pages, meeting the eyes of the client, the man she was supposed to sleep with...

Red vagabond's robes, a head full of bright grey hair, the posture of an experienced soldier and a weary and slightly disappointed look in his eyes... this was a man she recognized from the Bingo book.

"You... You're the sannin… Jiraiya..." she trailed off.

oOoOoOo

One would think that a man of renown such as Jiraiya of the leaf would have little trouble charming every woman that struck his fancy... and for the most part, that was true. For all his lechery, the sannin was a genius when it came to social engineering and charming his way through all kinds of situations.

However, running one of the biggest spy networks in the ninja world didn't come without cost, meaning that more often than not, he'd be far too busy to partake in the more enjoyable activities of the life as a ninja... and that was a problem.

Personally, he was fine with dry spells as long as it was necessary, but shinobi were still human, and hormones got in the way. Even at his age, lack of hormonal balancing would cause issues with health and focus, increasing the likelihood of mistakes that would blow the kinds of operations he ran on a regular basis.

So no, Jiraya wasn't visiting a brothel because he needed to pay for it, he did it for medical reasons. Of course, seeing that the woman that was supposed to care for his need was little more than a child... well that kind of changed things, didn't it? Not to mention the fact that she recognized him as a shinobi, rather than as a writer…

"Well..." He drawled, unsure of how he's supposed to handle this.

An establishment like this one, the ones that he earmarked specifically as rest-stops, wouldn't allow minors to partake in the business. The girl's presence then signaled a shinobi op... Were they trying to kill him? To send a child... it was admirable, really; results are what mattered in this world after all, far outweighing the ideals of peace, good, and even decency...

No, that makes no sense... she's surprised to see him, to recognize him... And by the looks of things, she wasn't lying.

"Name, rank, village. Now." He spoke, knowing full well that the lone girl is no threat. Even if she had an entire team outside, which was unlikely after the sweep he gave the area before settling in, he wasn't in any immediate danger.

"..."

The girl said nothing, just blinking at him repeatedly. The novel slid from her hands, hitting the ground with a soft thud, crumpling up a couple of unfortunate pages. He'd usually frown at seeing his books mistreated that way, but this time handling the situation took priority.

He leaned backwards a bit, causing the girl to tense up.

Finally realizing the severity of the situation she was in, Hiroko quickly did the one thing she was explicitly told not to do under any circumstance - she talked.

"Takigakure. Genin. Hiroko of the Ishibate clan." She fired off in quick succession, maintaining a steady tone of voice and making sure that the man could see her hands. ANBU briefing went out the window when a sannin was involved...

Honestly, pretty much everything went out the window when a sannin was involved... this wasn't about losing her virginity anymore; it was considerably closer to losing her life by this point. Not that any of it would matter should she somehow come back... a special kind of hell would be waiting for her back in Taki if she survived.

She watched, the tension slowly suffocating her, as the legendary ninja regarded her with dark eyes. After a while, he just sighed, sitting down.

"Tell me how a Takigakure genin ended up replacing the girl that was supposed to be waiting in that bed."

"You're placing me in a very tricky position, sir. I'm not sure I'm allowed to discuss those matters with shinobi my village doesn't have an official alliance with."

Damn it to hell, this was a bad situation. Either way, her options were limited, and dwindling fast.

"Try," The sage spoke, his voice even and calm.

"Desensitization program... 'Becoming a woman' is a requirement." She answered flatly, crossing her arms.

The sage laughed. "So I ended up with a defloration mission? Heh, that's good!" he continued, his laugher growing louder, "What a fickle lady my luck is!"

She kept silent. Even when dealing with people like Myoboku's Toad Sage, silence was God.

After his laughing fit died down, Jiraiya adjusted his seat, fixing the girl with a stare. "And now we're at an impasse."

"Indeed." She agreed, not hesitating for a moment.

"Alright then. I'll go get myself a drink, and check if you don't have any jonin friends around waiting to ambush me. If, when I come back, you're still here, I'll take it as a sign that you want your mission done, and I'll assist with the matter. Heck, I'll teach you all I can about the matter..." He spoke, bringing a hand to his chin, "If you leave, you'll have cost me a night's rate, which means I'll have to eat soup for the next week if I'm going to stay on budget... But the worst outcome is if there's someone out there; If there is, I'll come back and kill you." he finished, giving a slight scowl. Apparently, this was the outcome he hoped to avoid.

"I understand." she answered, almost inaudibly.

Nodding, the sannin stood up, walking out of the room at a casual pace, not bothering to bring his bag with him; with the amount of seals he has on that thing, it'd be a week before anyone other than him even comes close to seeing what's inside.

oOoOoOo

When forced to choose between giving your maidenhood to a man who could very well bring down a tailed beast on his own, and failing your mission, you choose the mission. That's what ANBU is about, and that's why she was where she was right now.

Take ANBU for example. All they do is train and do missions.

The mission... the mission took priority. If she completed the mission, she would become stronger. If she failed the mission... no, she couldn't fail the mission; she had no right to fail anymore.

Cold, subdued, calculating, dangerous. It's a do or die world out there, kid.

Subdued... she could do subdued. Being that way was easy, as easy as staying silent. Being cold was easy as well, she needed only shut herself off from the world; after all, wasn't that what she was doing before that man barged into her room? She was closing off, immersing herself into menial work and books, trying to forget the mistakes that cost her teammates their lives...

At least she wasn't worried about that anymore... she had more pressing issues these days.

He'd be back soon enough, and then they'd have to complete the mission. She'd take whatever was coming, and she wouldn't complain... she was shinobi, and shinobi endure. For all its' complexity, the ninja world operated on very simple principles most of the time.

The room grew darker in the sage's absence, Hiroko too distracted to bother with finishing the novel. She made the effort to put the last of the books along with her clothes, intending to take some small solace in the knowledge that if they don't kill her upon return, at least she'll have something to read. Loot, apparently was totally ok to have and use in the program…

Not too long after that the door gently swung open, the sage's imposing figure appearing out of the doorframe. He smirked upon noticing that the girl was still there; she had guts, and he respected that...

"Welcome back..." she greeted, voice somewhat warmer; If she was going to do this, best do it right.

"Good news, kid..." the man began, taking his seat once more. There was a bottle of what looked like ale in his hands, but it seemed barely touched, "I don't have to kill you."

"I'm glad. I'd be fairly tragic to die during a defloration mission, as you've so aptly put it." she replied dryly, the air feeling heavier all of a sudden.

"So you're really going to go through with this? Not having any second thoughts?"

She wanted to consider the question for a while, to pretend she wasn't so decided about what she was about to do, but that wouldn't be true. The mission came first... it always did.

"Sir, when I got into the program, I promised myself I wouldn't give up no matter what I had to go through. Turning away simply isn't an option."

"Heh... I know someone with a similar mindset... Damn, I miss that kid..." he trailed off, smiling to himself.

She arched a brow at that, curiosity peaked. "Sounds like someone dear to you."

"Hm? Yeah... he's a good kid... Just a year younger than you, actually... makes me think about whether I should go through with this."

"Please, sir. I can't do it alone." she spoke, voice uncharacteristically pleading in tone.

Yes, she was just a kid... but kids like her killed in the wars, suffered far worse fates than what she's consenting to... The lines of acceptable blurred in this world of shinobi, and she was dancing along them with this job. Heck, Lieutenant Hiro would have a field day with this...

'If he doesn't kill me first, that is.' She thought, slightly annoyed.

"Too true... Let me ask you this, then; what's your motivation?"

What is your goal ,little girl? What is it that you live for?

"I'd rather not answer that, sir." she replied, sitting up and frowning slightly.

He cocked an eyebrow at that, smirking. "One last thing..."

Standing up, the toad sage strolled over to his gear, undoing the array of matrixes there and unsealing one particular notebook. He picked out a page, handing it over to the girl. "Read this."

She took the page, skimming over its' contents. By the looks of things, it was a work not unlike the novels, but there was something... different... about it. While the Icha Icha did get her cheeks red, this was at a complete other level. The way the words conveyed scenes, scents, images... it made her heart beat a bit faster.

Whatever it was, it wasn't your run-of-the-mill smut... This was the real deal.

Blushing furiously, she handed the page back to the sannin, careful not to make any sudden movements lest he think all this was a ruse... Bigger missions than this one were ruined over stupid errors like that.

Jiraiya took the page, stashed it back into the bag, turned to look at the girl once more, then sighed. "All right... let's get this over with."

Nodding, Hiroko grabbed the edges of her shirt, pulling up and taking it off, revealing most of her stomach and back to the room's already chilly air. She watched in slight awe as the sannin did so as well, revealing a body fitting of a ninja of his renown; every muscle was chiseled out, perfectly visible even in the room's fading light... his hair, while graying, still looked young and vibrant as it fell over his shoulders as the headband was removed.

Realizing she's falling behind, the girl slid the slacks from her hips, throwing the garment onto the floor by the bed. Taking a deep breath, she bit her lip and began taking the top off, revealing her bare chest to the toad sage.

The corner of his lip danced for only a moment when he noticed, only to disappear just as quickly. Stripping down completely, Jiraiya joined the Taki genin on the bed. They locked eyes for a moment, then the older man's hand gently pressed against her abdomen, willing her to lie down.

She stared at him with wide eyes, a complex mix of fear and anticipation in her head... this was it, she realized, this was happening. Konoha's toad sage was to be her first by some random whim of fate... she could've done worse.

She hooked a finger around the edge of her last remaining garment, pulling them down across her thighs and over her knees. Shuffling in place a bit, she got rid of the panties completely, thoughts buried under some kind of blurry haze.

"Right then..." came a sigh, so silent she could barely hear it, "Turn around."

And she did.

oOoOoOo

For years to come, Hiroko Ishibate wouldn't be able to say she had a more uncomfortable morning.

After over an hour of somewhat awkward and oft-interrupted intercourse, the sage simply stopped, disappeared for a couple of minutes, then came back and began talking. She didn't mind, as her main objective was complete... but having to hear the man over forty years her senior describe all the lover's arts in excruciating detail was simply overwhelming.

To think that many kunoichi get relegated to being glorified whores, just on the off chance that some VIP would spill secrets in bed... It was both disgusting and entrancing. All those techniques... not only physical, but chakra-based as well... those were things she would've never learned under her mentor.

Waking up, she was surprised to feel a pulsing pain in her nether regions, but wrote it off as consequence of having her first time. The sage was gone, the only signs of him ever being there the pain she was feeling and the two items on the bedside table.

Lazily reaching out, she took both things; what looked to be an oversized coin, as well as a handwritten note. She flipped open the note, eyes going over the text fairly quickly:

Genin.

While many call me an old lecher, I'll admit that last night was one of the more regrettable events in my career as a shinobi. However, this world places the mission over one's own well-being, and I could tell that you understood that.

Survive this world, survive and grow strong enough to change it. What good is a world where young girls are forced into womanhood and children slaughter entire clans? There has to be a better way.

Take the coin, preserve it. Much like you, it is more than it seems...You never know when you'll need something like that.

She sighed, realizing just how uncomfortable the position she put the sannin into actually was. If it was any other client, they'd have their way with her, and that would be it... but this man took it upon himself to teach her things that, while she didn't particularly want to learn, she certainly had to.

And it wasn't even that enjoyable... She'd heard talks of sex, of how it was one of the highlights of human existence, but to her it was dull and awkward. A vulgar, simple act, serving only to relieve the body of surplus hormones, distracting the mind from the things it should focus on...

Maybe she felt that way because there were no emotions involved... but she wasn't really sure.

In any event, she was hoping missions like this one wouldn't come up too often in the future. She'd take them, of course, should they... but she hoped they wouldn't. After all, what right did a shinobi have to refuse the mission?

The mission always came first... Both that man and the sage understood that.

Sighing once more, Hiroko got out of bed, walking into the washroom. The water helped clear her head a bit, and she remembered that the Lieutenant would be coming back for her in a couple of hours... Perhaps she could do some light reading until then?

No... Just washing her hair would take more than an hour... Frowning, she began rubbing the solution into her hair, intent on getting it done as quickly as could be.

The reason for her overly long hair was slightly obscure, based mostly on a ninja art her mother had taught her years ago for fun; stimulating the hair with chakra, one's own hairstyle could become either a weapon or a shield through the 'Ninja Art: Iron Curtain Jutsu'... it also doubled as an easy way to wash one's long hair if you didn't mind wasting the chakra.

Working though the two hand signs, she felt the familiar surge of energy on the surface of her scalp, her hair becoming glossy and stiff... as it was now, it could easily stop a kunai, if not a lesser jutsu. That was good, as she's only started practicing it during the program, the memory of the technique popping up in her mind over one of the few sleepless nights she had at the beginning.

Sitting down under the downpour, she began working, rubbing a portion of the provided solution into her hair with practiced patience. It would take a while, but the benefits of having a layer of armor like that were well worth the work.

So she waited.

---

Day 145

Two months had passed since they chained her up. Said it was part of the training, but she had her doubts.

Food once a day, lashings twice, Lieutenant Hiro's snappy comments once more than that. The rags they let her wear itched on her skin, worsening the already strained flesh on her back.

The worst part wasn't the fact that she was bound with chakra-suppressing chains, not the fact that she was starving for the greater part of the last two months... not even the lashing. The worst part was that the lashing was done by Lieutenant Kamon.

Twice every day, the man would show up in front of her cell, the leather belt in his hands. Not speaking a word, he'd walk around her, then swing... and swing...and swing. He would keep hitting her until the sensation of blood flowing down her back stopped being uncomfortable, then he'd hit some more.

Some of the others, for she knew there were others going through the same trials, screamed and cursed and yelled, but she gave no voice; Lt Hiro was never too far away, and his slap stung worse than Kamon's belt ever could.

In the downtime, she'd fantasize about breaking out and getting revenge. She'd imagine herself setting the men's offices on fire, punishments be damned. She'd think about the way the captain would look at the Lieutenants, frown, then have them escorted out of the offices... it would be justice for this savagery.

The number of program applicants dwindled as time went on, most being unable to handle the pressure. The missions sucked, as she eventually found out, the food sucked, the medical care was barely adequate, the rooms sucked... everything sucked in this damn program. Everything but them.

Five months ago, she couldn't even imagine herself in a situation like this. Even if she could, it would be a nightmarish experience, pain and cruelty being something she simply wasn't accustomed to... But after this long in the program, after having her arms and legs broken more times than she cared to count, after being forced to grow up, to torture, to kill... it was all pretty much the same thing now.

Flip the switch, shut yourself off; That was the way. Think of it as a mission, that would give you the strength to endure... the mission trumped all, it trumped even Kamon and his lash, Hiro and his quips, the goddamn program and it's cruelty.

What was the mission?

Strength. To protect herself, at first... To protect others, too. Maybe find the Iwa-nin and feed him a slice of poison? Poetic justice?

No, none of that mattered while she was in these chains...

"Ah, young Hiroko. Comfortable?" came the Lieutenants voice, the smirk behind his cigarette getting on her nerves.

But of course, she wouldn't speak. He didn't say she could, after all.

"..."

"Good, good... what say you about extending your stay in this fine room, huh? Would you find that agreeable?" He asked, the cocky smirk growing more irritating by the second.

"No." she spoke, unusually subdued, given the circumstance.

"They why don't you break out? Don't tell me you actually believed me when I said it'd be only two months?"

"Oh..." she sighed, wishing that he hadn't forced her hand like this. Breakouts go so much better when no one sees them coming, after all, "I see."

"You see? Wow. How the heck did you last this long, young Hiroko? I'd think that we'd have broken you out of that obedient mindset... I thought we taught you to think for yourself..." he trailed off, disappearing from the door frame, slamming the door closed.

Someone screamed down the hall, but she paid no mind to it.

He wanted a breakout? He'd get one, then. Screw fantasizing about it, she will set his goddamn office on fire... She would watch as the captain chewed him out afterwards, and she'd get away with it. And no, it wasn't boasting, it was simply a well-implemented plan.

Spitting out the coin she kept in her mouth for the last two months, Hiroko began fiddling with its' edges, feeling the slight click, allowing herself a smile when the lockpick popped out of the coin's surface. While she was chained, she wasn't strung up like some of the others, most likely because they didn't feel it was necessary... their mistake.

Pushing each of the pins into place, she twisted the coin, feeling the soft click of the lock being opened. Opting to keep the binds on, however, she let the hard metal stay on her wrists, just in case someone came by the cell before lockdown. Slowly, patiently, she undid the other four bindings, freeing her head and limbs.

Once it was done, she placed the coin in her mouth once again, realizing that she felt almost naked without it there. Desperation does breed odd habits...

Now all she needed to do was wait. After lockdown, two guards would be assigned to the hallway with the cells... fellow program goes, no doubt, the ones that chose to keep their comrades prisoner. She didn't know why someone would choose that, but a small part of her hoped they were simply sadistic, bad people; it would make what she was supposed to do easier.

The two guards patrolled in counter-rotation patterns, meaning that they would pass by both one another and her cell exactly two times during the entire period of lockdown... Not only that, but allowing either to raise the alarm meant she'd either be beaten and tossed back into the cell, or moved to the next stage of the program - both meant she wouldn't be getting the vengeance she felt she deserved.

Telling time by the way the shadows fell from the light outside was easy after a month's time, so she knew exactly when she was supposed to bust out. The coin briefly left her mouth once more, used to unlock the cell door itself.

Then she waited.

oOoOoOo

Thing is, she never met the two unfortunate souls she had to plow through during her breakout... quite honestly, she'd have trouble caring less about what happened to them. If you could be taken down by a slightly malnourished prisoner almost half your size, you didn't deserve the mask of an ANBU operative... Then again, she did kind of aim for the throat...

Sneaking though the hallways was simple enough. Spend enough time in any place, and you can slip through it unnoticed, even if it is lightly patrolled by professionals. Getting into her room without waking anyone up was tricky, but that was mostly because of the early detection systems one of the program participants set up. After a few minutes, though, she worked it out and retrieved her clothes.

Finally wearing something more comfortable than the rags she spent the last two months in, she made a beeline to the interrogation offices, remembering that there's always some oil lying around there, in case the torture method called for it. Slipping past the guards there wasn't nearly as easy, and her very core hurt from how hard she was trying to suppress her chakra.

Still, pain is nothing. She learned that a while ago.

Crawling through a ventilation shaft, the one used to gas the offices if the interrogated party somehow overpowered the interrogators, she had just enough time between sweeps to swipe a decently sized container of snake oil.

Now... she was fairly certain that no one she ever admired would approve of what she was about to do... but then again, no one she ever admired was actually there. Of course, the hardest part of her entire endeavor was about to begin.

Sneaking into the offices wasn't hard... It was impossible. She wasn't good enough to sneak into ANBU HQ offices, and that was a hard fact. However, she was good enough to break into the archives.

Archives, especially ones in key buildings like the ANBU headquarters, were the go-to place to find blueprints and defense plans. Of course, she wasn't so naive to think that the blueprints would be waiting for her in the archives... but the defense plan was there.

As expected, the plan highlighted all potential attack points, including the ventilation system. She needed only pick the ones that led directly to the offices of lieutenants Hiro and Kamon. Clambering up to the roof, Hiroko found the vent she was looking for. Inscribing a timed explosive tag, she lowered it into one of the oil canisters, sending the container tumbling down the vents.

That was the whole point of the defense plan... highlight the weaknesses you wanted exploited by the enemy. Their offices were nothing compared to the other facilities... they were isolated rooms that led to nowhere, infiltration dead ends. It was the perfect spot for an untraceable crime.

The clattering would draw attention, she knew, but by the time people noticed, it would be too late.

Quickly dumping the other container into its' own vent, she sat down and waited.

Minutes would pass until the first ANBU arrived, but she wouldn't move. She would wait, and she would smile when they told her to go to her room.

In the end, it was that simple. No one would believe that a genin could escape the cell, steal oil, and use it to set fire to her superiors' offices, that just didn't happen. Maybe Hiro would see it for what it was, but the captain didn't strike her as a man who'd have faith in such a story.

Even if he did, she wouldn't be afraid. She rotted in a jail cell long enough; it wouldn't be too dramatic a change... Though, if it was a real prison, she doubted she'd smuggle a lockpick set inside so easily...

But this was sloppy. A real operation needed to be thoroughly planned, executed in unknown territory, with security a lot tighter than what went on in the waterfall. Isolation made them less careful about the possibility of spies, and it showed. Odds were that, if something happened to break the concealment system, Taki wouldn't last.

Next time... the next operation she ran needed to be perfect. This time, she'd walk out without issue... next time; however, she wouldn't have that luxury.

The doors opened, the captain's hunched visage appearing on the dimly lit roof. He took a long drag from his pipe, motioning for the two ANBU to move in. He walked over, stopping a few steps from her. Smoke rose from the ventilation, dark grey pillars disappearing into the night sky.

He coughed twice, hunching slightly. Once the coughing fit ran its' course, the man seemed to take notice of the scrawny genin, raising an eyebrow at her. It was a familiar face, most likely due to the extraordinary circumstances under which they've met.

"Genin... fancy seeing you here." he drawled, the smoke from his pipe merging with the rising column from the ventilation, "Don't tell me you're the one who did this."

"I am, sir." She replied.

"Of course you did..."

He took a drag from his pipe, smirking at the genin still seated at his feet. An ANBU walked over, whispering a brief status update, leaving upon getting his dismissal with a nod of the head.

"How's the rabbit?" He asked, looking slightly amused.

She smiled.

---

Day 170

She took another deep breath, flexing and contorting her fingers in order to stimulate her chakra to influence the world outside her body. Like water, it bubbled up inside of her, expanding and flooding her inner senses. But of course, no matter how chakra felt inside, it was the outside that actually mattered.

"Ninja Art: Poison Fog Jutsu." she spoke, exhaling forcefully, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as the purplish haze left her lungs and mouth, dissipating harmlessly into the air.

While medical ninja believed themselves to be big-shots for having the understanding of anatomy and chakra at a high enough level to be protected from such a technique, the actual knowledge required was laughable; basic knowledge and awareness of the human respiratory system, so you know which parts to lace with protective chakra, and some intermediate shape transformation so synthesizing the chemicals comes easier to you.

Other than that, it was a matter of weaving hand signs and exhaling.

Turning away from the target dummy, she rolled her shoulders once and proceeded to leave the training area.

Advancing through the program meant that she kept getting particular boons. A good bed was one, more free time for training and other activities, even access to bearable shower quarters. Of course, the responsibilities grew as well. Missions four times a week, usually dirty jobs that required someone getting killed. She'd like to say that she grew to trust her comrades in the program, but that would be stretching the truth further than even a ninja could get away with...

The first man she killed was a member of an escaped chain gang that actively harassed one of the villages to the southwest of the Land of Waterfalls. The fight was a walkover with so many shinobi present, but the knowledge that she had taken the life of a man had stuck with her, dragging that notion of innocence she so desperately cherished further into some black abyss.

And the worst part?

She didn't even care anymore.

Innocence didn't get the mission done, just as it didn't protect her from beatings and drugs and imprisonment and being forced to take a life... However, if she grit her teeth and let it all wash over her, odds were she'd come out on the other side relatively unscathed, the job done and her belt richer for a notch.

And in the end, the whole reason she came here was for the notches, wasn't it?

"Ah! Young Hiroko!" came the familiar greeting of her superior officer.

She just turned to look at him blankly, having long since outgrown making the mistake of speaking.

"Do you know how long you partook in this program?" He asked, leaning against the wall of the 'bunks' room and tucking his hands into his vest pockets.

"170 days, give or take one." She replied, sitting up properly.

"Correct." He spoke, turning to the empty wall where all the rabbit cages were aligned, "You noticed that the rabbits disappear a couple of days before their owners, didn't you?"

"I did, sir."

"And why do you think that is?" he continued, pushing the cigarette from one corner of his lips to the other.

"They get hungry?" she asked, keeping a perfectly neutral expression. If she was being honest, the rabbits probably tasted better than the food they were given in the canteen... Heck, some types of dirt tasted better, and were most likely more nutritious than the canteen food.

"Heh," the lieutenant snickered, "No."

Hiroko remained silent.

"I want you to kill that rabbit." He simply commanded, pulling a heavy-duty knife from his belt, handing it to her handle-first.

She sighed.

oOoOoOo

"Why, young Hiroko?" he asked, seated across from her in the interrogation room. The cigarette was noticeably absent from his lips, giving him a more youthful appearance that she found completely unfitting for the man.

She was fairly sure her knee was broken, as were at least two pairs of ribs. While simple physical violence was something she had long since grown accustomed to, suffering it at the hands of the always-chipper Lieutenant Hiro was the thing that truly hurt.

For one reason or another, she had believed he was on her side... she thought he was her friend.

Of course, when she so blatantly refused to kill Marudoko, the man had no other choice but to pull her to the ground and stomp on every exposed bit of her until someone came along and interrupted them. Even then, instead of being sent to medical, as usual, she was dragged to the interrogation room, a place she hadn't visited since it served as a source of flammable oil.

Part of her just wanted to curl up and cry. As surprising as it was, there was still a part of her that felt, and the only thing she got from it right now was a desire to be anywhere but where she was right now. When viewed objectively, it wasn't too different from how she felt when she was forced to watch her own clansman choke on the poison he was supposed to give her...

It hit her - betrayal was something she had grown to utterly despise. The way you felt after realizing that you placed your faith in the wrong people hurt so much more than any beating ever could.

Dragging herself through hallways to the medical bay... being doped out of her mind after the Smiley affair... losing her maidenhood... Kamon's lashing... none of it hurt as bad as the feeling that she was once again betrayed.

It didn't matter if it was her superior officer, or the likeable client her team was supposed to protect until the border; betrayal hurt worse than anything she had ever felt, and she hated it for it.

"Sir..."

Should she tell him? Voice her frustrations, punishment be damned? It wasn't the ANBU way, but they were human after all... maybe he'd understand?

"..."

No.

ANBU were soulless sons of bitches. They felt nothing, cared for nothing and generally didn't give a fuck about nothing if it wasn't part of their mission. To expect something human from them was foolish, and she's been around the folk long enough to realize that as an unchanging truth.

Sacrificing their humanity for efficiency and precision, ANBU were the benchmark for skilled ninja... or at least they were in the Waterfall.

"Sir, I was explicitly given orders to keep the rabbit alive by the ANBU Captain. His rank outweighs yours, and until a captain or higher changes the order, I will not disobey it."

Hollow...

She had been afraid that she too would become hollow, but the truth was that she was one of the few that managed to hold onto their humanity in this place. The laws were simple; the more you gave up, the stronger you got... but how could she be strong without a heart?

Even Futaki Ishibate, her mentor and the woman she respected more than her own parents, made the mistake of trading heart for power. When the time came to choose the clan's next head, she was left in second place... her sister, a woman who had her heart at the time, was simply the stronger of the two.

Times have changed since then, however. Clan head was a position that corrupted you with the weight it placed on your shoulders, and the only thing that would keep you in the right frame of mind was your family... Yet the current head of the Ishibate Clan was barren, and her husband was long dead.

Hiroko learned from their examples. She had taken all she could from this place, and she was done giving parts of herself away...

Ten days from now, she would be done with the program... Ten days from now, she would be free to seek her own strength.

oOoOoOo

"We meet again, genin," spoke the captain, deep black eyes gazing at her from behind the thin layer of smoke.

Before she was brought to the man, they gave her a few minutes in the infirmary. The medic, while rough, knew her job well, undoing the damage Hiro wrought upon the girl's body in merely half an hour. After that, she was marched to the captain's office. Why they chose to do that over simply furthering the beating was beyond her.

"..."

He smirked, chewing at the edge of the pipe for a bit before pointing it at the genin. "You know, with your results, you could've kept your promise to one day occupy this chair..."

Again, she kept silent.

If the program taught her anything, it was the value of the ditheism of the ninja system.

There were only ever two gods for a shinobi - silence and the mission. One depended on the other, else they would have no meaning, no means of existence. As shinobi, one operated in silence, in the dark and hidden from the mundane world. Their means of life were summarized in those two gods, those two sanctities to the shinobi way...

Of course, deciding the mission and understanding the silence was something she had yet to learn to do. That was something ANBU couldn't teach her, she realized.

"Tell me, why did you refuse the orders of your superior?" he asked, tone void of emotion. As captain, he had long since resigned to dealing with only facts and decisions, things he knew people understood and answered for.

"Your orders, sir. Although older, they still outranked the lieutenant's command."

"No," he corrected, "you did it because you still have defiance."

Even if she would answer, what would she say?

"Most of them who come through here do it because they have something to prove. They work their asses off and they make it. As ANBU, they serve the village and its' interests well... However, you I have trouble placing."

Another drag at the pipe, the light of the embers almost visible from its' end. By now, it was already dark outside...

"You came here by pulling in quite the favors... and you didn't do it for the reputation, as far as I can tell."

He leaned back, pressing the tips of his fingers together and giving an amused smirk, "So the question I must ask is simple - Why go through all the trouble?"

Because he told her to... and because she'd probably kill herself otherwise.

"ANBU is just the first step, sir. I intend to become head of my clan someday, and for that I need experience, the kind this program has offered me," came her answer.

"Oh? I see..." he mumbled, plucking the pipe from his lips and depositing it in some kind of holder at the end of the table. He stared at her for a while, and then decided to finish this whole business with three simple words.

"Kill the rabbit."

oOoOoOo

The cage door squeaked as it swung open, and she ushered Marudoko out into the open. Accustomed to her presence, the large brown rabbit did nothing, just standing there, staring at her.

She took a deep breath… then plunged her kunai into the rabbit's side.

He jerked, trying to jump, only to topple over and continue bleeding profusely. Whether real or imagined, the heartbreak in the rabbit's eyes was unbearable to look at.

Hiroko took another deep breath… it's over now; she's done what they asked of her. Everything she could learn from the ANBU she learned, and it was time to go back into the world, back into the light. It might've been a soul-crushing experience, and not a day went by when she didn't think about just throwing it all away, leaving the program and sticking the clan elders with their own knives before her inevitable death…

But then she saw that Marudoko wasn't moving, and it hit her – her rabbit was dead.

She hurled.

---

Day 183

She stood at the reception desk once more, receiving the last of the paperwork for her successful graduation of the ANBU desensitization program. The chunin there seemed so different now, every little twitch of the eye and rise of the lip suddenly so obvious.

The workers weren't good... they were amateurs. ANBU, the real ANBU at least, are leagues above this rabble. And for better or worse, she was one of them now. Getting the tattoo was another brief pain, sure, but having those four little letters on her shoulders meant the world, and the world was at her beck and call now.

She was no longer the same person that walked through those doors six months ago. Sure, she looked the same, and there was only so much she could've changed physically in the time she was there, but only a fool would mistake her for the Hiroko of the past.

"Excuse me; may I see the village leader?"

The guard gave her a look, following it up with an amused smirk, "Sorry, genin, but Shibuki-sama is really busy right now."

She smirked.

"Sir, he is currently playing shogi against himself, completely ignoring the growing stack of paperwork on the side of his desk. Please don't take me for a fool; I don't want to have to get his attention in other ways."

The guard raised an eyebrow. What this girl said was completely true, meaning that she had somehow seen into Shibuki-sama's chambers, which could only be done from the top of ANBU HQ. But how the heck could a kid like this be there?

Either way, with the showing the kid made, the leader would want to know... he opened the door.

"Oh? Who are you, then?" the young leader asked, surprised to see the overly serious-looking genin walk into his office.

"My name is Hiroko Ishibate. I request to be assigned to a 3 man cell." she replied, placing her hands on her back.

Shibuki nodded, picking up a folder from the top of the stack on the desk, "And at a no better time... I received a similar request not too long ago, actually," he spoke, flipping the folder open and searching for a particular page.

"Sounds like there's a catch." she spoke, smirking.

The young man replied with a smirk, closing the folder.

"What is your opinion on the village's jinchuriki?" he asked.

She felt the corners of her lips rise ever so slightly, and there was a flash in her eyes. What a fickle lady her luck was...

"Hn."

---

It should be obvious that I have plans for this particular OC, and I will admit that she has significant roles in book 3 and the books after book 12.

But, as you can judge from my earlier work, I'm not the kind of writer who forces his OC's down people's throats.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter! Feel free to leave a review, follow, fav, or, best of all, suggestions regarding OC's.

2018 EDIT: Holy hell is she a Mary Sue.