Chapter 4: Playground Pastimes

For our fourth birthdays, Mikoto presented Sasuke and me with a set of blunt, wooden kunai. They were only moderately less dangerous than their metal counterparts, so we were forbidden from using them unless Mikoto was watching us. I couldn't believe we were allowed to play with these. Me more than Sasuke. With his constant training, Sasuke's aim was scarily accurate while mine was…not.

Still, at least we were supervised. When Mikoto had other things to do, she packed away the weapons and told us to go play in the park. While Sasuke played with our cousins, I spent my time with another present I'd received: a book on fuinjutsu, the art of sealing. There weren't many books on the subject, but Mikoto had unearthed a 'basic' guide as thick as a dictionary. Sealing seemed simple, but only on the surface. You write out what you want to do, and the seal performs the action. But it wasn't that easy. Seals were effectively very complicated chakra manipulation exercises that could store things using a physical chakra-rich medium like chakra ink or blood.

It practically required a Ph.D. in physics before most of the equations even made sense, so it was easy to see why few people specialized in creating seals. At best, most shinobi memorized one or two commonly used seals (mostly storage scrolls) and left it at that, but I was willing to give it a try. Unsurprisingly, my interest in the math and science side of ninja life didn't really appeal to Sasuke. He wasn't the only one either. The other kids at the park were just as disinterested, which was a little lonely. But at least Sasuke beaned Daiki in the face with a rubber ball when he called me a nerd.

We came back to play at the park regularly, and I spent most of my time reading under a tree, though I did occasionally get to socialize with a few other members of our clan. The clan was tight-knit, so everyone knew everyone. I quickly learned that Hiroshi and Hiroto had a seemingly infinite supply of sweets to dispense in exchange for a cute smile and that Kazuya was the best storyteller. I discovered that Ichika was patient and always willing to help out if I ran into a difficult kanji and Yui had the most recent clan gossip.

I even met one of my few girl-cousins on a bright and cold afternoon. Her name was Izumi, and she was willing to share her dango. I liked her immediately.

"You went to school with my Onii-chan, right?" I asked. Itachi had mentioned her once, a noteworthy event since he didn't really talk about anyone.

Izumi nodded, looking far away.

"I want to be strong like him," she said with a hint of sadness. "But no matter how hard I try, he always seems so far ahead. My dream is to one day catch up with him."

She wouldn't live that long.

Something of my thoughts must have showed on my face, because she puffed out her chest.

"Hey, even if it's a lot of work, I know I'll make it someday," she said. "I want to be strong."

"I know," I said. "You have the Sharingan, don't you?"

The Sharingan was a fact of life for most Uchiha. It required a traumatic event to activate, but simply being a ninja provided an abundance of those. Just about every member of the clan gained it eventually. I tried very hard not to think about that. It just made me sad.

Izumi reached up to touch her face.

"With these eyes, I can protect everyone," she said. "And maybe then the clan will finally accept me."

I winced because I'd already heard the gossip from Yui. Despite carrying the clan name, Izumi wasn't really considered a 'proper' Uchiha. Her mother was an Uchiha who had married a clanless ninja and lived away from the clan grounds. That was considered a serious snub, so the clan had collectively chosen to snub them right back.

In fact, if it weren't for shinobi naming conventions, she might not have been an Uchiha at all. When a clan-born woman married a clanless man, the woman kept her name and all children were given the clan name. That was why Izumi was still considered an Uchiha and why Naruto was an Uzumaki rather than a Namikaze. No matter how powerful the man, no matter what rank he achieved, the clan-name always won in the end. But because of that, loyalty was paramount. Even the tiniest hint that a person might be pulling away from the clan was met with scorn and vitriol, as Izumi had learned first-hand.

It cultivated an environment of mistrust where branch families tried to out-loyalty one another, each attempting to prove that they truly belonged. If I hadn't been adopted by Fugaku, I probably would have faced a similar fate, if not worse because I came from four consecutive generations of Uchihas marrying outside the clan.

Beyond that, my parents were both clan-born, my father an Uchiha and my mother an Uzumaki. It was sad to think that if my mother had survived long enough to give me the Uzumaki name, I wouldn't have been adopted into the clan at all. I'd have been sent to an orphanage instead, maybe even raised alongside Naruto instead of Sasuke. Perhaps that would have spared me from an early death. Or perhaps not.

It didn't really matter what might have been. I was an Uchiha now, and I was thankful for Fugaku's protection. Not everyone was as lucky as me. It hurt that a sweet girl like Izumi had to struggle to prove that she belonged in her own family.

"I know you will, Izumi-Nee-chan," I said. Maybe that was a little too forward, but my embarrassment was worth it to see the way her face lit up at being called a big sister.

On the rare occasions when I played ninja with our cousins, Sasuke always insisted that we were on the same team. He did a fair job of keeping the others from ganging up on me by retaliating with vicious attacks if anyone focused on me for more than a minute or so. It was fun and sweet, if a little awkward to be defended by a four year old.

"You don't have to protect me if you don't want to," I told him after one particularly brutal game. I'd spent the entire match pinned down behind a tree after the rest of our team had been eliminated. Sasuke had valiantly guarded my hiding spot, and through sheer grit had turned the tide of battle, eeking out a victory from near certain defeat. I'd been…less than useful. "It would be a lot easier and more fun for you if you didn't have to worry about me."

Sasuke scoffed.

"You're my little sister, so I gotta," he said easily, like this was an indisputable fact of life.

I thought about objecting because I was only technically one month younger than him, and also because I was actually much, much older. But Sasuke seemed to take real pride in being the elder brother, so I let it go.

"You're a good Nii-chan," I said. He really was. "Thank you for looking after me."

Sasuke blushed and grinned.

"One day I'll be strong like Nii-san!" he said, a picture of pride and admiration. "I'll protect the whole clan just like Tou-san!"

My smile faltered, but I replaced it before Sasuke could see.

"I think you'll become strong enough to protect the whole village," I said carefully. "No, strong enough to protect the whole world! I think you'll be even stronger than Onii-chan one day."

Sasuke snorted, but he still smiled.

"Okay, then," he said, like it was just that easy. "I'll become stronger than Nii-san and protect the whole world."

Despite having missions, Itachi did try to spend time with us. He took us camping once every month or two if the weather was nice enough. I did eventually learn how to kill and prepare various animals like rabbits, pheasants, and, on one memorable occasion, a deer. Sasuke enjoyed hunting, especially with Itachi, but it still took me a while to get over my squeamishness. Our camping trips soon developed into week-long excursions where we learned to live off of the land in any season. Of course, I always brought along sweets like dango, which Itachi never turned down, and tomatoes for Sasuke because they were his favorite.

I tried to tag along whenever possible, but sometimes my poor health got in the way.

"Looks like it's just the two of us," said Shisui as he ladled two bowls of rice at the kitchen counter.

Fugaku was at work, Mikoto was dealing with some sort of clan ceremony, and Itachi and Sasuke hadn't returned from their latest hunting trip. On days like this it was good to be part of a clan. There was always someone available for babysitting.

"Sorry to be a bother," I yawned, rubbing my eyes. I'd spent most of the morning napping, and Shisui had only just woken me for lunch. I sat at the kitchen table wrapped in a thick blanket.

"It's nothing," said Shisui, waving his hand as though to banish the thought. "I'd rather be in here with you than out there helping with patrols."

As if to highlight his words, the house groaned with a gust of wind and a shower of rain rattled against the window. I wondered if Sasuke regretted the camping trip right now. Then again, Itachi was probably using it as a teaching opportunity.

I yawned again.

Shisui set down the pair of bowls on the table and handed me a set of chopsticks.

"Thank you," I said. "There was something I wanted to ask you."

"Mhm?" he hummed, taking a bite.

"You're called Shisui of Teleportation, right?" I asked. "Does that mean you're fast?"

Shisui's lips curled into a slow smile.

"Hmm, maybe a little bit," he said with faux modesty. "Why do you ask?"

"I wanted to know how you do it," I said. Despite living in a ninja family, seeing actual ninja techniques was pretty rare. Most ninja didn't use chakra for day-to-day things when mundane methods worked just as well. But I was still curious. I could feel chakra, but beyond basic control exercises, I couldn't figure out how to use it for anything. I knew that basic chakra muscle enhancement was possible, and enhanced speed seemed like an easy place to start.

Shisui chuckled.

"Training, lots and lots of training," he said. "I use a technique called the Body Flicker. It involves infusing muscles with chakra to increase power output. Do you want to see a demonstration?" I nodded, perking up. "Okay, watch closely."

His chakra flared, and suddenly there were three Shisuis sitting around the table. I looked between them, a little shocked at how normal and solid they all looked. I reached out to touch the nearest Shisui. He felt solid, but there was a strange warmth and barely noticeable vibration when I touched him. I touched the second and third Shisuis and felt the same thing.

"You feel fuzzy," I said since I didn't have any better way of describing it.

"That's because I'm only 'here' one third of the time," said the Shisui on my left.

"And I'm over here another third of the time," said the one on my right.

"And here too," said the last.

"But really, if you move fast enough, you can be in multiple places at once," they said together.

Okay, that was a little creepy.

Abruptly, the other two Shisuis vanished, and the remaining Shisui solidified.

"Can you teach me to do that?" I asked.

"You don't have enough chakra yet," he said. I deflated with disappointment. "Buuuuut I do have something you can work on." He picked up my chopsticks and gathered a bite-sized bit of rice. "C'mon, Kiyo-hime, your lunch is getting cold. Say Ahhh~~!"

I scowled.

"I can feed myse-mph!" I nearly choked as Shisui's hand darted forward to slip the rice into my mouth.

He laughed at my affronted expression.

"More than chakra or control, the thing that limits a shinobi's top speed is their reaction time," he said, gathering up another bite-sized bit of rice. "So why don't we play some reflex games? Say Ahh~~!"

I knew what he was doing, but even if his motivation was just to feed me lunch, I wasn't going to pass up a chance to do speed training with Shisui. As it turned out, my reaction time was abysmal. I don't know what I expected, but I'd hoped that it wasn't that bad. However, it only took half the bowl of rice for me to realize that I couldn't even see Shisui move unless I focused my whole attention on his hand. And by the time we'd finished, I was struck by the fact that I hadn't felt him use his chakra at all.

This was Shisui's base speed, completely unenhanced.

That was insane.

After lunch we moved onto other reflex games that could be played in the living room. I wasn't expecting miracles, but even Shisui's casual, not-even-trying speed was overwhelming. It was scary to think that there were people in this world who fought and killed at this level. Most people wouldn't even see him coming.

"Breathe in, deep breath," said the medic as she pressed a stethoscope into my ribs. "Hold. Okay, exhale."

Mikoto sat in a nearby chair with her hands folded patiently in her lap. My last bout of flu had cleared up three days ago, but this morning I'd been hit with a wave of nausea and vomiting along with fever and muscle pain. I'd debated on whether or not to tell Mikoto. They'd just send me home again with strict orders for bed rest and I was tired of bed rest. Besides, Itachi and Shisui were planning to take us camping for Sasuke's fifth birthday.

But Itachi had noticed that something was wrong before I made it out the door, and now here we were. Sasuke had offered to wait, but I knew how long hospital visits could take and didn't want to ruin his day. I looked out the window and hoped they were having a good time.

"I'm concerned with this discoloration," she said, setting aside the stethoscope and gesturing to the purple spots on my legs. "I'll have to perform a diagnostic jutsu."

Mikoto nodded and the medic ran through a series of hand signs. Her hands glowed with warm green chakra that she pressed into my chest. I focused on keeping my breathing steady as her chakra flowed through my body.

It felt weird but not painful as it spilled from my chakra coils into my veins and up my spine.

And then it stuttered, pooling at the tip of my spinal column.

"One moment please," said the medic, carefully withdrawing her chakra. "I'll need to contact a specialist."

Mikoto frowned but agreed.

The medic returned later with a gray-haired senior medic. She ran through the same diagnostic jutsu, though without the hand-signs. I felt the difference in their chakra, how the older woman's was sharper and clearer. It moved with purpose, following the same path up my spine and stopping.

"Bacterial meningitis," she said. I had no idea what that was, but her grim tone got the point across well enough. And if it hadn't, Mikoto's reaction would have.

I was admitted into the ICU, pumped full of antibiotics and fluids along with a cocktail of chakra-based medicines. I was hooked up to no less than eight small, beeping machines spread across two carts, and my bed was inked with five separate medical seals. I was left to stare at the ceiling while the medic spoke to Fugaku and Mikoto outside. Someone had left the door ajar.

"There's a sixty-six percent survival rate, and we caught it early," she said. "Send in anyone she's had contact with in the past week. We'll want to screen them as well. Have Asumi-san screen your clan. We've had a few cases, but there's no guarantee that she got this from the hospital."

I winced.

Sorry, Sasuke.

Fugaku left and Mikoto returned wearing a facemask and gloves. Her eyes were wet, and I felt inexplicably guilty.

"Sorry, Kaa-chan," I said.

Mikoto shook her head as she sat on my bed. I scooted over until my head rested in her lap. She wove her fingers through my hair, stroking gently.

"I just want you to be okay," she said. "Is there anything you need? Are you in pain?"

I was lucky. I rarely felt discomfort while sick. This was probably the worst I'd ever felt with constant body-aches, but it was manageable, especially with the medical chakra dulling the pain. It sounded like I was going to be here for a while.

Or that I might die.

If I'd gone on the camping trip with the others, would I have made it back? Or worse, would I have infected Itachi, Sasuke, and Shisui? Scary thought.

"Kaa-chan, are there any books on medical ninjutsu?" I asked. That was a field of study I knew would take years if not decades of dedicated learning to master, but the diagnostic jutsu hadn't looked difficult. If I survived this, that would be a terribly useful skill for someone with a weakened immune system. If nothing else, there was no harm in asking.

"That's quite advanced," she said hesitantly. I was ready to let it go, but she gave me a thoughtful look. "Very few members of the clan specialize in medicine, but there are a few. It favors those with fine chakra control. If you're interested, I'll have Asumi-Obaa-chan test your control levels and give you some books to get started."

Maybe she'd been thinking the same thing.

"Thank you, Kaa-chan."

Asumi-Obaa-chan was my great grandmother. She came from a time before the village, back when each of the clans had been forced to tend to their own injured as well as they could. She was an Uchiha by marriage rather than blood, but she'd been welcomed into the clan because of her chakra healing abilities. Now with the hospital handling medical issues and the police force absorbing any potential Uchiha medics into their ranks, she was among the last of a dying breed.

She gave me a series of simple tests including the leaf-sticking exercise that I'd mastered while still in my crib and a few more challenging exercises, some of which went well beyond my current abilities.

"Her control is very advanced for her age," said Asumi-Obaa-chan. "But it's not at the level required for the beginner's lessons on medical ninjutsu. At this level, her chakra would only aggravate injuries, and demonstrations would be pointless. However, I'll assign a lesson plan and perform another assessment when she is ready."

That was rather nebulous in terms of shinobi training regimens. Then again, I was only four, and I had a feeling that Asumi-Obaa-chan wasn't thrilled at the prospect of such a small child wandering around her clinic. Maybe she was hoping that I would lose interest until I was older? Well, it gave me time to read the science books at least. I'd already brushed up on a few of the scientific principles while studying sealing, but when I cracked open a thick chemistry textbook, it didn't take long to see how much I still had to learn. Thankfully, I'd already taken college courses on everything except the chakra, so it would mostly be a refresher course and a lesson in Japanese scientific jargon.

It was enough to keep me occupied during the month I spent in the hospital. Thankfully no one else in the clan had contracted the disease, but I was still under strict semi-permanent bed-rest orders even after they sent me home.

"What are you reading, Kiyo-chan?"

I blinked up at the speaker owlishly. I was a third of the way through a chakra chemistry book with a dictionary propped open to my left and a sheaf of messy notes to my right. There was a joke in there somewhere about me having a doctor's handwriting already, but I hadn't had time to study calligraphy on top of everything else, no matter how useful it would be to my studies in sealing.

"Onii-chan, you're back!" I said. He'd been gone for several weeks performing an escort mission to the Land of Tea. I tried to stand up, but my muscles hadn't quite recovered from my last hospital stay, so I flopped sideways instead. Itachi caught me easily, and I fumbled into a sitting-embrace. "You shouldn't go away for so long."

"I know," he said, returning the hug. He was still travel-stained from his mission and smelled like sweat and dirt. No blood or smoke. That was good. Itachi withdrew long enough to produce a small box from his pack. It was covered in bright wrapping paper. "I'm sorry. And happy birthday."

I blinked at him.

Birthday?

Well that would explain the brightly colored picture Sasuke had given me this morning and the set of metal kunai Mikoto and Fugaku had presented me that matched the set Sasuke had received on his birthday.

"Oh, right, it's my birthday," I said.

I'd been in my room all day except for snatching up a hurried breakfast. I'd spent the morning working on a set of tricky chakra control exercises. By the time I'd mastered the last one I was too exhausted to go back downstairs and had decided to read instead.

"Don't tell me you forgot?" he asked, eyebrow raised. "You only turn five once."

Well, twice in my case, but he didn't need to know that.

"I was busy," I excused. I took the box curiously and tore off the wrapping paper. Inside was a beautiful blue ribbon. In the past year, my hair had started to grow quite long and often got in the way. I loved long hair, but when it was blowing in my face and obscuring my vision during a game of ninja, I loved it a little less. "Oh thank you, Onii-chan! This is perfect! Will you help me put it on?"

I turned around, and Itachi ran his fingers through my hair, gathering up the fringe on either side of my face, pulling it back while allowing the rest of my hair to hang loose. He tied the ribbon in a bow, and when he was done I shook my head vigorously to test how well it stayed in place. Unsurprisingly, it held up and kept my hair out of my eyes.

"What has you so busy that you forgot your own birthday?" Itachi asked.

I told him about my interest in medical ninjutsu and the chakra control exercises and the books I was reading.

"That's all very advanced," he said, a near echo of Mikoto.

I flushed and looked down.

"I can't do any of it," I said. I held up the dictionary. "I can't even read half of it."

"You will in time," said Itachi. And if it hadn't been for the massacre coming in three years, he might have been right.

"Do you know medical ninjutsu?" I asked. Itachi had never expressed any visible interest in it, but it seemed like the kind of thing he would know.

"Only a tiny bit," he admitted, standing up. "And I don't have enough training to use it on others yet. Come on. It's your birthday. You shouldn't be spending it in your room."

At the moment, I was just shy of chakra exhaustion, so Itachi swung me up on his back and carried me outside where Sasuke was practicing with his kunai under Mikoto's supervision. She gave Itachi a nod and returned to the house, content that Itachi would watch over us.

"Hey, Nii-san, look at this!" Sasuke shouted as Itachi set me down on the veranda. Sasuke took two kunai, one in each hand, and threw them both at once. One of them hit their target and the other one went wide by a few inches. Sasuke's face fell. "Aw, I could do it with the wooden ones."

The metal kunai were different from their wooden counterparts. They were heavier and had different balance. It took more strength to throw them, and they actually stuck to the target rather than bouncing off.

"Try again, but put a little more strength into your left hand throw," said Itachi.

Itachi must have been in a celebratory mood to actually offer advice on ninja techniques. Then again, this wasn't really anything special. It gave the illusion of offering training while simply reinforcing what we already knew. Sasuke seemed happy enough, though. I sat back and stretched out my legs, watching Sasuke thoughtfully.

Itachi had been gone more and more often these past few months, and although I'd been engrossed in my own studies, I hadn't missed the widening space between us all. There had always been a bubble around Itachi. He'd been separated from his peers and family by his genius, but that wasn't the only reason. There were many aspects of life in Konoha that he just didn't agree with. Did he even have anyone to talk to? Shisui maybe. Despite all the time we spent playing together and all the gentle smiles he turned toward Sasuke and me, he never really confided in either of us.

Well, he had once after the death of his teammate, but that had been the exception, a momentary crack in his armor that he'd quickly mended. And that was fair. We were only five, and he probably didn't want us to bear the burdens he'd been given at that age.

"What's wrong, Kiyo-chan?" asked Itachi, his eyes gentle and concerned. I hadn't realized that I was frowning, but Itachi had obviously noticed. I made a subtle show of looking around.

"Do you promise not to tell?" I asked quietly. This piqued his interest, and his smile widened.

"I promise," he said. I leaned in close.

"I'm not sure I want to be a kunoichi," I muttered, barely more than a breath of air. A normal person would have had difficulty hearing it, but Itachi was a shinobi.

His smile became sad.

"Being a ninja is an honor and brings honor to the clan," he said, though with far less conviction than Fugaku would have managed.

"I know," I said. "But I was just thinking about it, about what it all means. Right now we're training with kunai by throwing them at targets, but one day we'll be throwing them at people instead. People like us. People with mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, clans and friends. They'll have hopes and dreams, right? They won't want to die. But we'll fight, and in the end, one of us will have to go. Maybe it's them. Maybe it's me. And what for? Because a client said so? Because the Hokage said so? That doesn't seem right."

Questioning the Hokage was borderline treasonous, but I was young enough to get away with it.

Probably.

"We fight to protect the things important to us," said Itachi. "Our family, our friends, and our home."

Maybe in an ideal world.

But the reality of being a shinobi was very different.

"And why would they want to hurt us?" I asked.

Itachi looked away into the sky.

"Those who have suffered terribly may lash out even against those who have done them no wrong," he said. "Those who are afraid might do the same. And some may bring pain and death to others for selfish goals."

The cycle of violence.

"I don't want to hurt anyone," I said, and Itachi looked back at me, his expression oddly tired.

"I know," he said. "I don't want to hurt anyone either."

But he would. He would hurt everyone he'd ever cared about.

"Do you think the fighting will ever stop?" I asked with all my supposed childish naiveté. Itachi had killed his first enemy when he was four. He'd watched his comrade die before his eyes, and soon he would massacre his entire family to protect Sasuke.

"Maybe one day," he said, and I couldn't tell if it was a white lie or his own naïve hope.

Either way, we sat in silence and watched Sasuke gather up his kunai, ready to try again. One day there might be peace, but for now, our brother was honing his ability to kill, and neither of us stood to stop him.

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