His bloody hand wrote the kanjis for his name on the parchment, then applied his prints carefully. Ready at last, he focused his chakra and formed the necessary hand seals. An Uchiha should have been impassive in all circumstances, but he had never managed it: he couldn't stop his body from jittering with impatience and his eyes from gleaming, full of anticipation. When his hand touched the ground, all the chakra he had been able to gather was spent in an instant, and a crow bigger than a horse appeared in front of him.
Probably surprised by the summon, the bird spread his wings and stared down at the boy. His pearl white beak slightly open, he towered over the child who had just dared to summon him just as he was going to tuck in for dinner. Humans never thought about that kind of detail. Especially shinobi. In former days, centuries ago, when chakra and ninja arts were just a rumour amongst the tree, the Crow Summoning Contract had belonged to the monks living in a temple hidden deep in what would become the Land of Fire. They had been so much more respectful of the Crows.
"Well, kid, what do you want? Speak, I don't have all day."
The Crows had always been this way, incredibly intelligent but impatient. Their thoughts ran far quicker than any human's and only age gave them the ability to settle down and wait for their summoner to decide what they wanted to do. Shiromaru was still a child in the eyes of his race, though. Waiting was like a burn on his nerves.
"I'd like to become one of your summoners, Crow-sama" the child said softly.
The crow threw his head up and started laughing, the sound dry and jolting but not devoid of humour. No one had ever called him that. When he'd tell Nee-chan about it… "Our contract comes with a price, kid," he said when he calmed down. "We won't let you use us without the compensation we ask of any summoner."
"What do you want from them then?"
Shiromaru stared at the human child for a while, trying to decide if he was the kind to accept the compensation. That rule had been installed when the Hidden Village had stolen the scroll from the monks the Crows had loved so much, in hope the humans, disgusted, gave it back to its rightful owners. Alas, the ploy had failed and, since then, the birds had simply learned to profit from the deal. "We want your opponents' eyes, kid. Each time you kill, you'll do it without damaging the eyes, and then call the one who decided to assist you while the corpse is still warm so the crow can take them back to our realm."
The boy tensed, surprised. He had found the scroll in the clan archives, well hidden behind the most boring treaties, the ones no one ever read. Who expected to find such a treasure there? He had learned from his parents that the Uchiha had guardianship of several summoning contracts: the most famous were the Crows and the Rams, which only the clan head could use. Others, less powerful, were also in their hands, but most had been forgotten. After all, they mostly kept them so no enemy could have them. "I agree to your terms," he said politely. "What do I do now?"
"Now, kid, I will observe you for fifteen days and fifteen nights, then I will share what I learned about you with our Elder, who will decide who your companion will be."
The boy nodded and, his gestures precise and respectful, wiped his bloody hand clean before closing the scroll he had signed. Shiromaru observed him, trying to assess him already. During these two weeks, he would have to discover his brightest qualities and his deepest weaknesses, so his report to the Elder was as complete as it could possibly be. He would finally be able to explore the Physical World… Natsutaiyō had bragged so hard about it during the gatherings. It would soon be his turn to do so.
"Alright, then," the boy said. "If you plan on staying with me for so long, stop calling me 'kid'. My name is Shisui. What's yours?"
Hitomi jerked awake, her heart racing in her chest and her breathing shallow. When she raised her hands to rub her face, she found her cheeks damp with tears. She didn't understand why she dreamed of the past so much. Because it could only be the past. Shisui was dead, he had committed suicide to stop Danzō from taking his remaining eye and offered it to Itachi instead. A tormented moan escaped her lips and she quickly muffled it, her fist against her mouth, trying to calm down.
Even when they weren't frightening, just like this one, the dreams always made her body react to such an extent that being terrified or not made no difference. She felt as if she had just run a marathon with her former body, something she would have been happy never to go through again. Her joints ached, her lungs burned. Nothing would have pleased her more than going out and running, feeling free, strong, healthy, but the reminder of what she had been in the Previous World always put her in an unsettling morosity, which was difficult to hide.
Even Sasuke, who welcomed her in his bed each night she had a nightmare, didn't know what they showed her exactly. He didn't need that to understand she couldn't stand her dark, empty room once she woke up. After all, he was going through something similar, had been since the Massacre. She had just told him she didn't want to talk about it and it had been enough for him to never ask about it again. It was better that way: she couldn't really tell him about her dreams of the past, some showing her members of his decimated clan. She couldn't tell him that, sometimes, she saw his brother too.
With a slight shiver, she left the bed and stumbled to the bathroom, barely avoiding a painful meeting between her pinkie toe and the corner of a book she had dropped there. Why was she always doing that? It was stupid. She had enough shelves for all the books she could possibly dream of. Maybe she needed a bit of mess around her to feel like she belonged. Once she was in her bathroom, she freshened up a bit and looked at her reflection, her stare cold, tired, detached.
She had changed a lot these last few years. If she was still little for her age, lean and wiry muscles gave strength to her limbs, to her whole body. Her black hair, wavy like her mother's, was still untied, but she quickly grabbed a hairbrush and a red rubber band to tie them Nara-style. They were too long to stay up on her head, like Shikamaru's or Shikaku's; untied, they reached the bottom part of her shoulder blades. Still, the gesture meant a lot to her.
Her red eyes were still a bit too large for her face, the rich colour complimenting her black eyelashes and pale skin. She had lost the tan her trip to Sunagakure had granted her years ago: now, her skin was freckled, especially on the nose and the cheekbones. She was slowly losing the baby fat she had had around the lines of her cheeks and chin. Her cheekbones would be high and salient, just like any Nara's.
She really didn't look like much when she had just left the bed. It was different at the Academy, where she was one of the rare girls to wear an appropriate outfit for the training the children went through every day. She was small, stunningly fast, and if she lacked strength compared to the boys in the Fellowship, she was clever enough to still be their match during sparring exercises most of the time – except when she went against Sasuke, because he was one little devil when he fought one on one. With a heavy sigh, the girl turned away from the mirror and looked at the clock on the opposite wall.
What could she do to pass the time? It was too early to wake someone up and train. Idle and grumpy, she came back to her room and turned the light on to write a letter to Gaara. He too knew she had nightmares. She had wanted to tell Ensui and had figured it wasn't fair to hide things from her friend since they were both using his notebook to talk to her. She hadn't told either of them about the content of those dreams, though. She fully intended on having this secret die with her.
It had become usual for her to end her letters to Gaara with a few words for his siblings. Temari had a knack for riddles so the two girls played a game with them that had lasted for months now without a clear winner. With Kankurō, she talked about the fauna and flora of the Land of Fire. The boy dreamed about building his own puppets one day and was looking for inspiration there.
Once she was done with the letter, she stood up once more and went to the kitchen. Kurenai and the boys would be up in two hours. It was too early to get started on breakfast, but she wanted to cook a little something for herself. Eating always brought her comfort. She understood why the Akimichi, empaths in a world of violence and blood, needed it so much. When Chōji had told her their jutsus weren't the only reason behind that behaviour, she had nodded in comprehension and shared the onigiri Kurenai had made for her. For the Akimichi, sharing food was a gesture of deep friendship and trust.
When boredom threatened to engulf her again, she decided to go out, even if the night would still last for a bit more than an hour. Sitting on the porch, she watched the starry sky, revelling in the peace and quiet all around her. She breathed in deeply and allowed her muscles to relax. She was safe here. Her gaze followed the dance of three fireflies around a flower, then went to the silhouette of a clanmate walking to the gate of the lands. A mission, probably. He looked fast and lazy at the same time, which made her smile tenderly. Only Nara could pull that off.
She turned around when she heard noise behind her, a kunai finding its place in her hand, and felt a bit dumb when Asuma opened the door… from the inside… She raised her eyebrows and blushed slightly when she understood, finding comfort in the obvious embarrassment he was showing himself.
"Err… Hi, Hitomi-chan." He scratched his neck, looking ready to shunshin away at the first sign of anger from her.
"You know, you don't have to sneak around when you want to spend the night here. I'm sure I can convince Sasuke to leave you alone and in one piece."
"Uh… Actually… I'm more afraid of you. The Academy's reports say you're a wicked little demon."
Well, that explained why he had been muting his chakra. A startled laugh escaped Hitomi's lips as a wave of heat bloomed in her chest. She was so happy people noticed. She also hoped to cut the 'little' part of it, but 'wicked demon' sounded good as a reputation.
"Who, me? Nah, I've known for ages now. I don't need to remind you that shinobi are gossips, since I heard you tell Shiranui Genma about the woman Morino Ibiki sees after his shifts, three days ago." Her smile turned almost feral when surprise came back on Asuma's face. Oh, she loved that power. Sasuke and Naruto thought it was terrifying – how could she know Mizuki's shoe size and that Iruka hated pickles without any research? – but she was very satisfied with her ability to listen and to be in the right place at the right time. It was an excellent weapon for a shinobi.
"On the other hand, if you hurt my mom… Well, you probably can imagine far more horrible punishments than I can, being Jōnin and all that, but whatever it is, do know I'll do it to you. Even if I haven't thought about it yet."
The powerful shinobi, son of Hokage the Third and former member of the Twelve Guardians in service of the daimyo, stiffened so obviously that she couldn't help but laugh, the sound wild and lively, her eyes gleaming and her mind at peace for the first time that day. With a light-hearted gesture of her hand, she patted the man's forearm and tried to appease him. "There, there. I'm sure you don't have anything to fear. For now, you're doing well with Mom."
She didn't need to repeat her threat, even if toying with Asuma that way was incredibly easy. Since she had so much power over him, she might be able to make him quit smoking… But, in that case, she would probably need Shikamaru and Naruto's help, and a lot of time. You couldn't go headfirst against a Jōnin, not for something like that. She liked her head attached to her shoulders, thank you very much.
A comfortable silence settled between man and child; they didn't feel the need to fill it in anyway, content just to enjoy it. They watched the slow arrival of dawn together, her sitting again, him standing up a few steps away from her so as to avoid bothering her with his cigarette. As the last beams of light extracted themselves from the horizon, Hitomi stood up and started greeting the sun, not at all surprised when Asuma joined her, the nicotine stick firmly stuck between his lips. Once the stretching routine was over, she shook herself and rubbed her arms, only noticing how cold the air was.
"Well, I'm gonna get started on breakfast. You should go back to Mom and tell her that no, you haven't suffered 'death by Hitomi'. Get downstairs in half an hour and take the boys, they should be ready by then."
She nodded to him then got back inside, a wicked smile on her lips. Asuma was indeed an easy prey, mighty Jōnin or not. Maybe it was because she could pressure him that Hitomi was so tempted to tease him all the time… After all, he wasn't wrong when he feared her turning his life into a living hell if she decided she didn't like him or the way he treated her mother. She couldn't really hurt him, but she had the skills needed to annoy him to no end: she was dangerously intelligent and, if it wasn't enough, she had Naruto as a secret-not-so-secret weapon. Dangerously intelligent was good, but dangerously intelligent and unpredictable? Even better.
Humming quietly, she settled in the kitchen to cook. A lifetime ago, she had been a talented singer, but hadn't had the health or desire to practice and get better. Who would have listened anyway? Her voice wasn't the same but, in a strange happenstance, she had kept that little talent, even after damaging her vocal cords as a baby. She was very careful not to sing in either of the two languages she had known in the Previous World, that knowledge locked away deep enough inside her mind to never be used by accident. She didn't want the Jōnin surrounding her at all time to focus on her in the way an unknown language would make them.
Kurenai and Asuma were the first to arrive in the kitchen, just in time to sit in front of their breakfast. It was a mystery how Hitomi managed to only give the man things he enjoyed, leaving the nori and green tea away from him. When he looked up to her, she just gave him her sweetest smile. He couldn't know, of course, that she was playing shōgi with Shikaku every week and that her uncle was particularly chatty when he was immersed in the game. He and Asuma were good friends, but they didn't play yet. It would only start when Asuma would get his Genin team.
When Naruto and Sasuke arrived, she served them breakfast too then sat and started eating. It was still too early for the blonde boy to go from a sleepy bundle of cuteness to overexcited battery, but she knew it would come, and soon. It was perfect: after the dream she'd had, she couldn't wait to train. The energy buzzing inside her wanted to come out, and the slow stretches of the sun greeting weren't enough.
"Naruto, today we're teaching you the basics of kenjutsu. Asuma-san, do you think you could help?"
"Well, I probably could. The Twelve Guardians have to wield a katana. That's not the same as Naruto-kun's sword, but I should be able to help."
The girl nodded, thrilled to have convinced Asuma without even really trying. A part of her wondered if he was doing it so she would be pleased and support him in his courtship of Kurenai. The other part didn't care, since she was getting what she wanted anyway. When she was finished with her meal, she started to put the dishes in the sink for the adults to clean. Sasuke followed her every move, as if he could read something she wasn't saying in them. This thought made a surge of anxiety surge in her mind, but she muffled it. It was so stupid. Allowing her nightmares to make her paranoid was out of the question.
"As for you, Sasuke, you have things to read. The scrolls we took from the Uchiha lands are in my room, I'm gonna bring them to you before going with Naruto. Sounds good?"
The boy nodded but didn't look away. It wasn't like she was forcing him to do something he didn't want to do: he wanted to master the things that had elevated his clan amongst the most powerful in the whole world. He had to, if he wanted to kill… no, he couldn't think about him, not under this roof. He didn't want to bring that kind of damnation upon the household that had given him love and safety again. Hitomi, the girl he had come to see as a sister, already had shadows carved deep enough under her eyes. He often wondered about her nightmares, but he understood. He didn't want to talk about his, after all.
She didn't need to talk for him to understand, as he didn't need to say how the power in his eyes frightened him sometimes for her to get it. They understood each other.