On Hitomi's fifth birthday, a man who hadn't been seen in the village for years appeared at the doors of the Nara land. He wore the Nara ponytail, his just too long to stay up in the air. His dark grey eyes were underlined by a streak of mossy green eyeliner, giving him a dangerous, wary look. If the stories were true, these two adjectives fully applied to him. His name was on everyone's lips, the Nara civilian amassed on each side of the street without daring to put one foot on it.
Nara Ensui. Konoha's Strangling Shadow. The only one daring enough to pay no respect to the Hokage, or even to ignore his orders sometimes – his way of showing that Hiruzen should never have accepted the hat back. That hat should have been Shikaku's if you asked anyone in the Nara clan. He had never wanted it, true, but he would do it if someone asked. He was younger, fitter, and he wouldn't bend against the Council. Yes, Hitomi agreed. He'd be a better Hokage.
And she, too, looked as the strange man roamed the streets. She bore the itch from other people's chakras better now, but this situation was her limit, and she almost never went to that part of the Nara land. If she hadn't come to see Shikamaru, if Shikaku hadn't thrown her a birthday party, she would have missed the return of the man that everyone, in the clan, seemed to respect so much.
"How troublesome," Shikamaru pouted.
The young girl glanced at her cousin, surprised. "You don't like him?"
"Don't have any problem with him. It just sucks because I can already see Dad spending way too much time with him and I wanted him to show me how to throw shuriken."
Hitomi nodded, understanding. Her mother had started to show her how to manipulate throwing weapons a few weeks earlier, deciding she was ready, but Shikamaru had always shown a lack of will in his preparation for the Academy. But that was it: just a show, nothing more. Shikaku always saw through his son's game. Then again, Shikaku was the Jōnin Commander and the Nara Head. He was incredibly busy, and it was why he had planned on starting with his son close to when Hitomi, one year his senior, had started herself. He couldn't train Shikamaru all day, every day. "Just come to my place one morning, Mom is teaching me. She won't mind explaining stuff to you too."
As they settled on a day for his visit, Nara Ensui faded to a mere silhouette at the end of the road. Storing away the invaluable little bits of information she had just acquired, Hitomi wrapped an arm around her cousin's shoulder and convinced him to come with her to the Deer Forest. They didn't see even a single animal from the herd, but they had fun, exactly as she had intended.
The next day, someone knocked at the door while Kurenai was away grocery shopping. In any other part of the village, a child would never open to a stranger, but in the heart of the Nara land, no one feared intruders. Because she knew that full well, Hitomi opened the door and was left with her mouth hanging open as she discovered Nara Ensui on the front step.
"I'm looking for your mom, kiddo. Is she home?"
"She's at the marketplace, she should come back in twenty minutes. If you want, you can wait inside." That scheme probably wasn't her most subtle or clever. Hitomi, by welcoming the strange man into her house, hoped he would start talking and give her precious intel. On him, on the world beyond the village, anything would do.
When he accepted, she beamed at him and presented him with a pair of slippers that looked to be his size. While he switched footwear, she went through what her mother had taught her about welcoming guests and, as he settled in the living room, she brought him a tray where she had put homemade lemonade and a variety of biscuits. She was lucky everything she had needed wasn't stored in the higher cupboards. Thanks to her merciless training regime, she had no trouble carrying the heavy weight.
"Thanks, kiddo," Ensui said as she poured him a glass of lemonade. He had an amused smile on his lips, and probably saw right through her. Almost all Nara were geniuses, after all. Nodding with a polite smile, she sat on the ground in seiza, at the other side of the coffee table, all the while analysing the way he had settled on the couch, not quite a mess of limbs but not quite the correct, polite stance. All Nara, all the adults anyway, had that kind of quirk. It was weirdly cute – as much as that adjective applied to someone like Ensui.
"You look an awful lot like him, you know." She stared at him, a question in her eyes, until he continued. "Shikano-kun. You look like him. I'm only a cousin, but his sensei was my shishou. I was his first ever student, so I often tagged along when he had missions with his Genin team. He was a good man."
Most of the sadness Hitomi had felt when her father died was long gone, locked in a book in her Library. The bitterness, though, had lingered. She had just managed to tune it down enough to be able to pretend, in case she met with Danzō or anyone close to the ploy that had caused the Kyūbi's attack. Still, hearing his name awoke all those feelings as fresh as the first day. She couldn't forget.
"I'm happy that I look like him, Ensui-san. I don't hear about him much, but I feel like he was indeed a very good man. I'll do my best to uphold his memory."
The man's smile grew larger and Hitomi felt like she had said exactly the thing he wanted to hear. He crouched toward her over the table, extended an arm and gently patted her head. She pretended to frown when his long fingers made a mess of her hair, then pulled away laughing.
"So, kiddo. Shikaku tells me you play shōgi. Got a board somewhere?"
She nodded and went to fetch it from her bedroom. It was a beautiful thing, ornate with kanji and lovingly veneered, a gift from her uncle for her birthday the day earlier. She had barely used it for a few games against Shikamaru, who had never lost on purpose – he knew her well and respected her enough to offer her meaningful defeats and true victories. With the board in her arms, she went back to the living room.
Her movements were almost ceremonious as she settled the board on the table and opened the two little drawers carved into the board, where the pieces were stored. Silently, she and the man set up their side then started playing, only letting the board out of sight for a rare sip of lemonade.
It came almost immediately to Hitomi that her opponent was the strongest she had ever played against, even stronger than Shikaku, and probably the only man in the world to claim that feat. She drank at the source of his knowledge, to all the choices he made, her big red eyes fixated on the board as if it was the most enthralling novel she ever read. In a way, it was. The pieces were telling her a story: who lives, who dies, who wins, who loses. She felt her throat tighten with emotion at some moments. She lost, but she felt like she had won, deep inside.
"I see you play often against Shikamaru-kun and Shikaku."
"Can you see that, Ensui-san?"
"Of course. Every player, after a while, grow their own style, influenced by those he fought the most, those who taught him to play. Maybe one day you will take after me, too."
Hitomi nodded in understanding. It made sense. She had heard of similar things happening with chess players. So why not with shōgi too? The two games were awfully similar, after all. As she wondered about it, she set up the board for a new game.
They were in the middle of their third game when Kurenai came home. If she was surprised to see the Strangling Shadow, a lemonade in hand and slippers on his feet, on her couch, she didn't show it. Without looking up – it was her turn – Hitomi greeted her mother, her mind totally focused on the game and her next move. She had no hope whatsoever to win against Ensui, but she owed him the best version of herself. She owed him that, just as she owed it to every single opponent she had, so their victory was fully deserved and her loss full of dignity.
"No need to beat around the bush," Kurenai said as the game ended. "I know why you're here, Ensui-san. Shikaku told me this morning."
"I'll get the kid home in one piece, Kurenai-san. You know I will. I take care of my team."
"She's not your team, for fuck's sake, she's just a child who hasn't even set a foot at the Academy, and Shikaku decided without consulting me, just because he's head of the Nara clan!"
This tone from her mother made Hitomi tense, for two reasons. First, she felt on her skin the whiff of killing intent oozing around Kurenai, so weak she probably didn't even notice it happening, and second because she didn't get angry often. Such outburst ought to be regarded with particular focus when they came from her.
"Listen, I know it's not what you want," Ensui tried, "but there's no other way. If you want the girl to go to the Academy and become a kunoichi, she has to learn how to muffle her perceptions, and you know I'm an expert on this subject."
Listening carefully, Hitomi glanced at the man, unable to hide her mix of wariness and interest. She had, of course, worried about the Academy and the rest of her career. She couldn't stand even leaving the Nara land. She was lucky Kurenai had asked for the authorisation to stay after Shikano's death. But leaving with that man, even if it implied going through the village to the main gates… Where did he even want to take her? It sounded like a weird, half-baked plan.
"I know!" Kurenai snapped. "I know all that, okay? Am I supposed to give you my only daughter without even fighting it? You don't even know her!"
The argument continued for a few minutes that Hitomi used to hide in her Library and think about things. She didn't know much about Ensui Nara, but there were advantages to his proposal. Well, it had been accepted by Shikaku already, but she wanted it to feel like her choice, to be able to support it with sincerity. When she opened her eyes, she had reached a conclusion. She stood up, the two adults immediately focusing on her, and went to hug her mother.
"I'm gonna miss you a lot," she mumbled, her voice muffled by the dress she was pressing her face against. "But it's a big deal for me, to be able to go to the Academy in the best possible condition. Please, Mom, if going with Ensui-san can help me, let me go. Please."
Mother and child exchanged a long look, full of promises and things left unsaid. Hitomi would have gladly died for Kurenai. She loved her unconditionally, and was loved back in the same way, something she had never known in her first life. She held onto the fabric of her dress and breathed in as deep as she could her mother's unique scent, all the while focusing on the way her chakra, now at peace again, touched her skin. Without the killing intent, Hitomi only felt pressure and softness, strength and tenderness.
"Okay, sweetheart. I'll miss you too, my sweet baby… But you're right. Go prepare a bag. You'll be gone for more than a year, but I hope for him that Ensui-san will ensure you have everything you need, so just some clothing, your writing set, kunai and shuriken, and maybe one or two books. Got it?"
"More than a year? But I'm supposed to enter the Academy in April…"
"And what I'll teach you," Ensui interrupted, "needs far more time than six months to be fully taught. I'll continue training you like your mother did, and then teach you some more things. When you go to the Academy, you'll be one year older than your classmates, yes, but you'll also be far stronger than they are. You'll have no trouble being the best in your year."
No trouble, no trouble… That meant she'd go to the Academy in Naruto's year, and not Neji's like she had thought initially. It would change some of her plans, facilitate them in fact. She would have less trouble being at the centre of the action that way. Feigning an annoyed sigh, she nodded and went to her room to do as she was told, leaving the logistics to the two adults.