When Hitomi regained consciousness, she was in a hospital room. She took a few minutes to understand, but she couldn't confuse that smell with anything else. She pressed her lips with displeasure and turned her head, looking around. Shikamaru slept nuzzled against her flank. Her mother sat at her bedside, her eyes fixed to the door as if to guard her. Sakura was sitting in another bed and talking with Shikaku in a low voice while he took notes.
"Mom," she mumbled in a surprisingly hoarse voice.
Kurenai started and turned her head to her daughter, her hands immediately stroking her cheeks tenderly. The touch brought tears to Hitomi's eyes – she didn't quite understand why – and she closed them, fighting against the need to cry. It was stupid. She didn't have any good reason to cry. She let out a little groan, hating the hard time she had to simply think. She felt like her thoughts were mired in a thick sirup, which was terrifying for someone like her. She shook her head slightly once her mother's hands were on her shoulders, trying to get her usual efficiency back. "I need to train harder."
It was probably something stupid to say, since it made Kurenai, Shikaku and Sakura laugh. Hitomi frowned, her lips forming a pout before she could stop them. Okay, it probably wasn't something people said when they woke up in the hospital after being stabbed, but it was the truth! She needed to learn how to defend herself against all types of opponents, even adults.
"We'll talk training when you're up and about again," her mother said, tenderness and amusement in her tone. She stroked her hair and Hitomi leaned in the touch, fighting to keep her eyes open.
"About that. What's the situation?" She emphasised her question with a gesture of her hand. She couldn't see her leg, but she recognised the sensation of bandages around it. It wasn't painful yet, but she knew it would come. Medical ninjutsu wasn't miraculous. That was what Iruka repeated each time he told his students about that field, but she disagreed. Medical ninjutsu could do miracles in her eyes; but what ninja skill couldn't?
"You come home tomorrow and can get back to the Academy in a week. Until then, you're forbidden from any intense training."
Hitomi groaned in frustration but fought the desire to roll her eyes. A week just seemed so freaking long… Pouting, she stared at Shikamaru, still asleep against her side. He hadn't moved since she had woken up, but she suspected he was only pretending to sleep, like he often did. She knew he would bring her homework and notes from Iruka's lessons but, for Mizuki's class, she was fucked. She sighed, already planning all the training she'd have to go through once she was cleared if she wanted to stay top of the kunoichi.
"My father will come to see you during the week, to tell you about the Yūhi clan. He should have done so months ago, but it was hard for him to find time… Anyway, you shouldn't be too bored with all the things he wants to tell you." Kurenai smiled and took her hand, careful not to press on the bones she had broken. They had been fixed by medical ninjutsu but were still a bit sore.
Hitomi frowned, surprised. Yūhi Shinku was a loner. She remembered a few visits, including the one after her father's death, but he spent a long time away on diplomatic missions out of the village. When he came back, he rarely took time to see his family, which made his willingness to teach her something a bit strange. But what did she really know about the man? This whole thing would be interesting, no doubt about it.
Her mother made sure Hitomi was resting. For the hospital, she had brought her two adventure novels as well as a language-based puzzle book. Hitomi had discovered those a few months ago and she couldn't get enough of them. She wasn't allowed to work on Academy stuff before coming home the next afternoon, and her mother made sure she relaxed. She also brought her food so she didn't have to eat the hospital meals, so Hitomi wasn't too mad about that deal.
One afternoon, as she was learning to prepare the lemonade she loved so much under Kurenai's guidance, Yūhi Shinku decided to pay them a visit. He looked out of place in the peaceful house, with his Jōnin uniform and the tension running through his body without respite, as if he couldn't see anything but a battlefield wherever he was. It was so rare for ninjas, especially Jōnin, to get to know their grand-children – and yet he was still there. He had probably seen too much to be able to play civilian, even for a few hours.
Hitomi followed Kurenai's instructions to the T, preparing a tray with tea and biscuits before bringing it to the coffee table. It was included in the kunoichi cursus, but Hitomi had finally decided she wanted her mother to teach her and had dropped out of the class entirely. Her gestures still a bit clumsy, she presented biscuits to her grandfather after pouring him a cup of tea. He stayed silent for a few minutes, content with sipping on his tea, then seemed ready to speak.
"Well before ninjas decided to build the Hidden Villages," he started in a soft, weary voice, "the Yūhi clan was one of the first to choose the Land of Fire as their home. The members of our clan weren't as easy to identify as Yamanaka or Hyūga were, for example, and that discretion was their strength. For a long time, they thrived, careful to mingle with carefully selected civilians so they wouldn't become inbred and weak." He took another sip of his tea, his red eyes so similar to hers staring right at her, as if to make sure she understood each and every word. Knowledge was power, and she was fascinated by the one he was giving her.
"Our clan's characteristics were transmitted by the father or the mother, but only the women could awaken the different powers the clan amassed through generations. When the village was founded, some scientists wondered why, but we still don't know to this day. For a long time, our clan was entirely matriarchal, like the Inuzuka clan. Those were the only two clans with such a power system."
"What changed?" asked Hitomi in a soft voice?
"My father was born. Since we became part of the village, the clan had started to fade, but my father's birth was the last nail in the coffin of our lineage and traditions. His mother was an only daughter, you see, and after him, she couldn't have children anymore. All the other branches of the clan had disappeared, one after the other, destroyed by the three wars. We were, after all, perfect for the frontline."
Hitomi nodded, fascinated. She was probably a bit unsettling, staring at her grandfather with such avidity, but she couldn't feign the distant and polite attention that was probably expected from her in this kind of situation – in fact, she had never been good at it. Ensui had told her more than once that he found her adorable when she gave him that look, but she had often seen people pull away when she stared at them that way.
"After that, things just got worse. My father died a short time after I was born, and my grandmother a few months after she had started teaching me. In Konoha, the law states that a clan can only retain that title if it's composed of at least three members linked by blood. When you were born, we could reclaim the title and, if I survive until you get your own children, we'll keep it."
For a moment, tension surged in the room. It wasn't killing intent, not at all, but an intent nonetheless, so intense that his chakra made it almost physical. Then Shinku sighed and the sensation passed, dissipating into thin air.
"To me, however, our title isn't the priority. Our traditions and our history are far more important to me. I don't care if you decide to have children or not, if I get to know them or not. What matters to me, more than anything, is that if you do have children, you tell them what I told you today, and what I still have to tell you, so our clan is never forgotten."
The child nodded, solemn. She felt her mother's presence, a few steps behind her. She had probably received the same words from her father when she was younger. Had Shinku dropped all his hopes and her shoulders too? It was a heavy charge but, compared to Hitomi's other self-assigned missions… Yes, it seemed easy compared to the other things on her plate.
"Our clan," he continued, "has always been considered minor. Despite this, our characteristics were very useful during the numerous conflicts that happened before the Founders Era, and then during the Shinobi World Wars. Foreigners started to call us Tailless Beasts during the first war."
"Ensui-shishou told me that," she said respectfully. "But is it… Is it an accurate comparison? I know I have a lot of chakra for my age, and that my reserves are only going to expand with the years, but compared to jinchūriki…"
"Trust me, it's accurate. Look through the village's archives when you have time, particularly for the first two wars."
Hitomi thought about it for a few seconds then decided it would be as interesting as he hinted. The only man alive to bear that title to that day was Hoshigaki Kisame, former member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist turned Akatsuki nukenin. If that title meant she was to possess one day the kind of power he had, she had to be warned, she had to prepare, and quickly, so she could pick the shinobi arts she wanted to specialise in, on top of fūinjutsu and kenjutsu.
"Our history often blended, in the past, with the history of other clans. We first were considered a very secondary branch of the Uzumaki Clan but, when Konoha was founded, our clan leader received an offer that was hard to turn down: the hand of a Uchiha son, from the main family. He was only a third son, not much in the inheritance line of his clan, but he gave us so much through marriage and, later, lineage."
It was commonplace amongst the clans: daughters and sons who couldn't inherit were married in other clans to forge new alliances. The person wedded in that way gained a little more power for the rest of their life, and their descendants gained all or part of their genetic abilities.
"Is it why we don't look like the Uzumaki?" Hitomi asked as she poured another cup of tea for her grandfather.
The shadow of a smile appeared on his lips. "Exactly. The Uchiha's black hair is transmitted to all their children, even in families far away from the main branch. It's also because of them that we have red eyes, although we could never awaken the Sharingan. Some researchers from the Land of Whirlpools tried to figure out why, but they could only muster that it was an incompatibility between the Sharingan and our own Kekkei Genkai."
It took all Hitomi had to stop her from choking on her tea. "We have a Kekkei Genkai?"
"We had one. You know what a Kekkei Genkai is, right? They are categorized in several types; the most well-known are the dōjutsu, with the Sharingan and Byakugan, and the Hiden, like the techniques only the Nara clan can use. Our Kekkei Genkai fell in that category. The nature of this power, what it did or meant, has been lost since the end of the first war, when the Konohajin Library burned. No person alive in this world remembers what we could do then, but I suspect…"
Hitomi stared at her grandfather, an all-consuming curiosity lighting up her big red eyes. She was stunned, fascinated by all the things she was learning that day. However, she took Shinku's assertion about no one alive remembering the Yūhi Kekkei Genkai with the appropriate grain of salt, since she knew of at least two people having survived the First Shinobi World War still being alive. And, one day, she would have to fight them.
She wouldn't be alone in that venture, though, she knew it. She had befriended Naruto and, if she wasn't exactly at ease when it came to creating meaningful bonds with people, he had such a talent for it that it made her a bit jealous. She had Gaara, too, and Shikamaru. The three boys were probably the people from her generation she offered the most trust to; Naruto because he wouldn't betray her even if his life depended on it, Gaara because he truly loved her and was terrified by the mere thought of hurting her, and Shikamaru because he'd been raised to think family was all that mattered, even before the clan or the village, just like she had.
"The most useful gifts the Uchiha offered us, what convinced our ancestor to accept this suitor as her husband, will be offered to you in turn when you'll start your last year at the Academy. It's a summoning contract."
Hitomi's eyes went wide. She had thought about signing such a contract, especially since Ensui had expanded her chakra reserves with his extreme training regime. She only knew of a few of them, the ones mentioned in the canon, and her research had established they weren't accessible to her. But if Shinku had one to give her… He answered her question before she could ask, amusement gleaming in his eyes.
"It's the Nekomadake Forest Cats contract. They are considered minor summons, but don't underestimate them. They are individually weaker than the serpents or toads, that's true. However, they only take one summoner per generation for a very good reason."
"Mom, did you sign that contract?" Hitomi pipped.
"No, I didn't. Since my childhood, everyone knew I had a strong predisposition for genjutsu and cats weren't a good pairing for me, but Father made them do awesome things when he was at war. I signed the Dragonflies contract when my shishou offered it to me."
Were there that many summoning contracts? What was certain for Hitomi was that the canon vision of this whole thing, with the Spiritual World divided in three realms for the three main species of summons, was critically simplistic. After all, didn't her grandfather just mention a fourth one? She was sure there were even more.
"Hitomi," her grandfather said, "Nara Ensui did the right thing when he shocked your chakra reserves into expanding, but he couldn't have known you would get our contract. Unless… Did he offer you another one?"
Hitomi shook her head, lost in thought. She was wondering about the cats' skills, and how she could mix them with her fighting style, the one she was already starting to develop and would continue to do for years to come. She already knew genjutsu wasn't the right pick for her. Her mother had talked to her about it a few times since she had started the Academy and, if she acknowledged the power of illusions, the girl's instinct told her that her own path was elsewhere.
She knew, for example, that she wanted to focus on kenjutsu, even if she hadn't yet found someone to train her intensely. Her choice of weapon almost made her want to talk to someone who was or had been ANBU, but how could she even explain that she knew about their ties with the secret services? For a while, she'd train with her mother, since Ensui was in Sunagakure.
Then there was fūinjutsu, of course. With the creation of her communication notebooks, she had reached a kind of plateau, one she struggled to overcome. She knew it would pass. After all, all Masters had been capable of far more than just combining a few basic seals – because, really, once she had had the idea, it hadn't been more complicated than that. The hard part had been stabilising the whole seal, and she knew she'd have to go through that with all her creations. She was currently working on storage seals and explosive seals, which was already far more than expected of even a Genin.
But it wasn't enough, not for her. She didn't know her elemental affinity yet, but she knew she would want to use it on the battlefield. Those powers were too flexible, too strong, for her to ignore them, especially with her chakra reserves. She also could count on the Nara techniques, even though she wouldn't learn the next one before she was a teenager.
And then, there were all the minor but oh-so-useful talents she had: battle chemistry, her sickness turned sensor advantage, the battlefield control skills Ensui had taught her. She also wanted to learn more about psychological warfare, the basis of medical ninjutsu, and make her chakra control good enough to be useful in a fight.
Add the ninja cats to the mix and her arsenal started to look really good. It made for an awful lot of things to learn, to research, to develop, but… but she knew the results would make it all worth it, one day.