4 years later
The clouds listed lazily in the sky, unrestrained and uncaring of the world anchored below them. A girl watched them, nestled into the uneven moss of the forest floor. Her eyes shifted their intensity into forced apathy as they taunted her with their freedom to simply exist and go wherever the wind took them. Sprawled out in the rich thick grove, hands clasped behind her head, she felt the envy, a corrosive burning spread into every cell of her being despite being surrounded by warmth and life, the wet evidence started to seep into the fabric of her pants and left droplets on the sleeves of her oversized leather jacket, the only memento left from her previous life. Four years, she'd spent, in what appeared to be the most idyllic village in all the land. It was a place chock full of cheery citizens milling about their daily lives completely ignorant of the atrocities going on behind closed doors by trained killers that ruled the place; even more of the inhabitants were ignorant of the conditions of her citizenship to Konohagakure, with a frightfully steep price to pay should she fail. A distant chortle of carefree laughter flitted her way and the girls nose scrunched as though a putrid smell had wafted nearby.
The worn corner of a borrowed book poked out from the bag haphazardly strewn across the lushness surrounding her, a book about a torrid love affair amidst a period of shinobi warring states. The girl picked it up tenderly, her finger trailing the cover, minimalistic, a soft cover with cherry blossom petals blowing across it like a gentle kiss despite the horrors and suffering the naïve female protagonist would encounter. The only thing that took away from the romantic feel of the cover was a harsh sticker on the spine from the village library. But its presence was not unwelcomed, instead it brought to mind a much more amiable topic. Many hours and days were spent lost among the dusty stacks of well-loved books. A perfect way to avoid unwanted conversations and drink in wells of knowledge and stories, freely open and available for any who found themselves thirsty for such things. She flipped the pages to her bookmark, a receipt from the convenience store at the base of her apartment building, her eyes scanning for the last thing she'd read.
"Nishira!" an irritated voice called out. "We've got training, let's go!"
She didn't even lift her head to acknowledge the leader of her team who stomped towards her respite, disturbing the mushrooms and brush that decorated the forest floor. Training, Nishira frowned at the word. She couldn't think of a worse time than doing "missions" which usually consisted of running errands around town and hanging out with kids almost half her age who hadn't even hit puberty yet. She rolled her eyes at the thought of their daily barrage of incessant questions.
"So go train." She waved a lazy hand in his direction. The man stood over her, blocking the gentle light that filtered through the ancient trees and her view of the clouds she envied. She looked up with a frown. "Do you mind?"
"Do-do I? Do I mind?" His eyes bulged at the dismissive glance of her amber eyes, his voice rising to a shrill level, sputtering his disbelief that obliterated any patience he had for his most troubling student. His face, complete with a dark chin strap, turned a delightful shade of puce she hadn't seen before now, but the day was young. It was a rich contrast to the forest green flak jacket and navy standard issue uniform underneath and was a refreshing change from the last three "sensei's" that had yelled at her.
"Yes," she limply gestured, "you're blocking my light. I need vitamin D or I get cranky. And you're interrupting my reading. Now, go be a human sun visor somewhere else, or find some snot your students left on everything they touch."
"You- you insolent brat! One more word and I'll-"
"You'll what? Make me do the grunt work and crappy missions no one wants? Yeah, I'm already doing that, so you'll have to come up with some new punishment. When you do, I'll be right here. Otherwise, I'll see you tomorrow morning for our next mission or negotiate new terms for my release."
"You have to train with your teammates."
"No, I have to complete missions, there is nothing in my contract saying I have to train with them. I will train on my own."
The man stood there rooted to the spot until his mind comprehended the truth of the matter before filling with a blank heat of rage. He paraded off in a way that Nishira found quite satisfying.
"Don't bother coming tomorrow, I'm putting you on suspension, I'll send you back to the Academy!"
"Alright, I'm in! You make that happen; I'll be here." She went back to the forbidden romance and political conspiracies in the sun bleached pages of her book.
It was lucky that the next day was just as sunny as the one before, and with the pending punishment not inspiring any real fear, Nishira went back to her book in a shady spot. This time though, the perfect spot lay along the borders of the Nara land, a local family who provided many of the natural herbs and supplies for remedies. They left the land mostly uncultivated. Thick trunks of pine trees ridged and sculpted by nature alone made a thick wall to make the property line perfectly clear. The outskirts were a quiet place, untouched by most of man's hand, but plenty of evidence of the creatures that lived there. Only a worn dirt trail and a small clearing had disturbed the landscape nature had intended. The Nara clan who owned this part of the land respected the forest and its inhabitants and made their property a sanctuary. The only visitors that bothered her here were of the more welcome kind. A magnificent stag glided from the brush and eyed her keenly with its black glassy orb on one side of its face turned towards her. Deeming her no threat, it lowered its head with its crowning glory of antlers, grazing the flora that grew when not under the shelter of the trees.
He was the biggest stag she'd seen in these parts, bigger than the ones back home. That thought robbed her momentarily of the ability to breathe from the pressure on her chest, but she released it with a wry smile at the notion and returned to her book. She was halfway through a deliciously smutty part, the characters finally relieving the insane sexual tension that the main characters had oozed since their first meeting. At last, she thought. She bit her lip as the juicy details began unravelling in a flurry of sensual words and noises.
A sharp whistle shook her from the mesmerizing spell, her head swiveled towards its origin as a kunai knife imbedded in the bark near her head. Her eyes widened in recognition of the pointed leaf-shaped blade with a ring at the end of the pommel, a standard weapon given to the ninja of the village. A flapping piece of paper with writings on it was tied to the ring, and it began to sizzle ominously charring the note. Nishira scrambled away, clawing at the ground to gain traction to propel her forward, recognizing a paper bomb about to go off. When it did, the ground rumbled from the force, the bark on the surface of the tree splintered, the forest floor now disturbed with the scathing heat that billowed outward. The impact of the explosion sent her tumbling head over heel away from the blast, bumping along the ground until she lay flat on her back, winded and inevitably bruised. Pieces of her deserted bag scattered around her; loose pages of the book floated to the ground in a lingering swaying back to the ground. Nishira focused on one singed sheet as it gently came down onto her face.
Above her stood a figure with hands on their hips. For a moment she perceived them as a giant being, able to scoop her up with one hand and crush her. Their features obscured by the blinding sunlight behind them creating a black silhouette of the lean figure as more pages fluttered around him.
"What the hell? You could have killed me! Who the fuck do you think you are?"
The response she received was a deep rich chuckle, Nishira recognized it as a male voice, playful and infuriatingly unfazed.
"Nishira, I'm your new sensei. It's time for your next mission."
An old, grizzled man, well past the days of his prime, sat contently in his office that sat above the whole of his nation, the village named Konohagakure. His chair, worn from years of loyal service to the man, glided as he looked through the large picture windows behind him and saw the vastness splayed before him. Buildings of all sizes and shapes with pops of dark green foliage littered liberally throughout. He hummed in pride, a rich rumble in his chest, as he inhaled the rich smoke that came from his long pipe, his hair free from his hat were white wisps pointed in all directions. All was well in the village. He sat with peace at the thought, and the years of work and service he had done to enjoy this moment. That was, until the door burst open without a knock, strong enough to rattle the walls, the portraits threatened to jump from their homes along the walls, and in stomped a man that Lord Hokage, as the leader of the village, was hoping wouldn't show up quite so soon.
"Lord Hokage! That-that thing is impossible! Please, my lord, remove her from my team immediately, Lord Hokage, or-or I'll quit! There is no reasoning with her. She isn't a shinobi, she's an animal!" The man's wide eyes peered into Lord Hokage's with a wildness that startled the older man, his pupil's pinpoints in the white orb as they looked to their leader. The younger man's arms flapped in exaggerated gestures that made Lord Hokage worry the younger man might suffer a stroke prematurely. "She needs to be locked up forever!" he bellowed his rage at the wise old man who just bobbed along with his pipe still smoldering waiting for a moment to talk once the gusto was gone from him.
"Bomuro, please, be still. You are not the first jonin to march in here and say similar things. I implore you to stop a moment and compose yourself before you start handing in your resignation. Now please, tell me what has happened."
After a deep audible breath, the words came flowing from his mouth, with no less heat than before. But the elder man simply nodded along; He had been afraid of this. Bomuro had been the third jonin in the past four months to have been assigned to this particularly troublesome student. After an acceptable time, he gave the pleading man the answer he sought before dismissing him, Bomuro's shoulders lowered as he almost sagged to the ground in relief. Lord Hokage relished that Bomuro had been this way since the days of his youth as a genin, chunin, and even now as a jonin. His veiny hand reached for the lone file that littered his desk almost as though he had anticipated the need for it to be nearby. Opening it, he saw the picture of the student in question looking back at him. Imai, Nishira, who looked uninterested but relatively harmless in the photo. It was terribly misleading, as most would come to learn. HHHHhiusfqfeun
asjker dark hair fell in loose untamed waves, and a shinobi headband, the symbol of every shinobi in the village, sat on her forehead obscured slightly by some choppy bangs. She was significantly older than the majority of the genin, the title of the entry level rank of shinobi. Most of the academy graduates do so around the age of twelve, ten years her junior, making the divide between her and her teammates all the more palpable to him. Since her arrival to the village, Lord Hokage trusted that she would be an asset to the village, but merely needed to figure out how to convince her to let go of her beloved anger and bitterness and simply try. She had been unwilling from the very first day.
He let out a weary sigh, half of it a grey cloud from his smoke laden lungs and wondered what the next possible step was. Most of the mission teams were full, and he didn't want to test the resolve of his other team leaders, with three considering stress leave from the experience of this single student, an impressive feat if they could use it on their enemies. But in his musings, he thought of one candidate that may work. The idea was completely unorthodox and would simply be a temporary solution, but at this point it seemed his only choice. But having now thought it, the old man wondered why he hadn't considered this earlier.
It wasn't long before the man Lord Hokage wanted stood before him. The guest's presence was almost gentle, shoulders hunched ever so slightly as his hands lived in his pants pockets. He wore a black face mask covering from nose to the base of his throat at all times to much speculation around the village and from his peers. Spiky silver hair spilled to one side to accommodate the headband that covered his left eye, the other eye, dark as charcoal, roamed around the room, the world reflected in that calm gaze. The headband was a symbol, all shinobi in the village possessed and displayed one proudly, the center of the metal band, made to protect their foreheads, stamped on it was a leaf with a swirl in the center. It was the signature mark of Konohagakure.
"Kakashi, thank you for coming. I have a new assignment for you."
He handed the manilla folder to him and waited quietly as he scanned the document.
"This is a dossier on a genin. What's the mission?" His voice resonated in a deep richness with a rumbled edge like the solid mountain that hovered over the village.
"This particular genin is your mission and will be observed closely. She is of particular interest to the ANBU."
Kakashi looked back into the dossier, his visible eyes frowning as he flipped through more of the pages. He seemed to mentally shrug.
"That doesn't make sense. Nothing extraordinary stands out in her file. Why would the assassination and tactical squad want such an average shinobi?" His gaze seemed distracted as though he didn't care about the answer to such a question.
"To be completely forthright, Danzo has not been exactly forthcoming as to the reasons they want this particular candidate, but they want her to become a jonin and are pushing for her to go to the next set of chunin exams."
"So soon? She's only been out of the academy for four months." He continued to scan the document. "Hmmm, three years in the Academy, and… she's older, disciplinary issues…"
"Her instructors at the Academy spoke very highly of her."
"Nishira would have better grades, if only she applied herself." Kakashi looked up from his reading. "That isn't exactly the highest praise."
The old man chortled, the sound half a cough from his habit.
"That, unfortunately, is exactly the issue. The girl exhibits all the competencies and potential above a genin, but for some reason, refuses to participate or engage with her fellow teammates or her teachers."
Kakashi frowned.
"And what exactly am I supposed to do different?"
"I have no idea, but I'm sure you'll find a way, Kakashi. I have every faith in you and your impressive skills."
There was an infuriating twinkle in the old man's eyes, confirming for Kakashi that this was certainly going to be a difficult mission.
"Imai Nishira, you are now my student. Your first mission is come at me and simply to draw blood. In order to have any chance of succeeding, you'll need to come at me like you mean to kill me."
Nishira slowly stood, slapping off the dirt from her clothes, decidedly turning away from him.
"Seems a little dramatic."
The new sensei just chuckled.
"Do you think you'll even land a single blow?"
Her gaze flashed, and just for a moment the rich copper eyes zeroed in on him, her hands paused mid slap, before clumsily continuing. Kakashi guessed one more push would goad her into playing.
"But I guess if you're already admitting defeat, that's probably for the best."
He watched her from the side of his eye, as his words bounced with deliberate dismissal. He loosely shrugged as he turned his back to her, hands back in his pockets. His eye detected the barest of movements, a small glint of light reflected on the motion of hair barely a mere fraction, as she glanced at the ground, her short blade, a ninjato, laying partially unsheathed only an arm's length away. He was prepared to take off as soon as she made a motion to grab it, but she spoke first, ice clipped off every word.
"I guess it would be a shame if I didn't make you work for that win, sensei."
As she reached for the ninjato, Kakashi leapt back, grinning at his success.
Student and teacher stood less than twenty feet apart, Nishira held her ninjato in front of her at the ready, a stark contrast to the lazy posture Kakashi held with one hand still in his pocket.
"Take out your weapon, sensei."
"Why? I won't need it."
The leaves around them chittered as a warm breeze stumbled through them. Nishira frowned before advancing relentlessly with her ninjato, striking at the man. Kakashi bobbed and weaved around every strike without moving his hands with a crisp precision. When she'd pushed him back far enough, with a move so quick Nishira's eyes missed, Kakashi pulled a kunai and blocked her sword with it. The ringing echoed deafeningly, the grating clash of metal fighting against metal made Nishira clench her jaw.
In a practiced move, he parried the sword from her grasp. A single flicker of sunlight in the bush told them where it had landed. Nishira began to step out of reach when the kunai came swinging in retaliation. The swing forced Nishira to lean back to avoid it meeting her face, she used the motion to follow through with a clenched fist to hit her opponents face. To her frustration, he blocked it easily, pushing her arm further and with a slick hook of Kakashi's leg, caught hers and she tumbled to the ground.
"Wait, wait, stop! I think I twisted my ankle." The curtain of inky colored hair hid her face from his gaze, her shoulder shivering lightly. When she tucked her hair back, lifting her head to face him, Nishira's tawny eyes were wide with glistening with unshed tears lingering along the bottom lashes as she looked up, her full bottom lip trembling ever so slightly.
It was a good act, he thought, unfazed.
"Get up. We're not done yet." her face immediately dropped to one with dour frustration from his unmoved tone. She grumbled, reaching out her hand for him to help her stand. Unthinking he went to oblige. When his gloved hand almost reached her delicate one, Nishira flung the handful of dirt that been in her other fist with practiced aim.
Kakashi blinked his exposed eye against the fine granules of muck pelting his form, and when he managed to clear it enough, he saw he stood solo in the clearing.
Clever girl, he smirked. He didn't remember those tactics being taught in the classroom. His intrigue grew as he saw the open clearing, eager to see her next move. The slightest rustle to the north of him tickled his eardrum and he took off towards it.
As he pursued the sound, the sound of a fragile twig snapping to his right stopped him mid stride. Landing on the oversized gnarled branch of an ancient tree, he was rewarded with the faintest whisper, her voice alluring his attention this time to his left. They taunted his senses.
"Ah, so that's how it is."
He almost didn't sense her above him until she leapt to drive a kunai into his back. Kakashi pushed off the branch to another perch. But as he landed, she threw the blade at him. It ineffectually bounced off the branch and careened to the distant ground below.
As he stood on the limb of a neighboring tree, Kakashi marveled at the potential his new student had already exhibited but with glaring holes in her neglectful training, so much more hidden in that cold icy glare.
"How about we switch things up then. Show me your jutsus."
He held his arms open in an invitation, his tone betraying the eagerness of his request. His fascination grew from her rudimentary but advanced manipulation of the chakra energy and sound. Nishira responded with half a grin tipping her head down, but eyes remained peering into his. He stood, prepared to meet whatever she planned to bring. He focused on her hands, graceful hands that came together in front of her, her thumb, index, and pinky fingers meeting in a sign representing tori, the rooster, a classic sign for an air release jutsu. Her stance was untrained, but Kakashi continued to wait, feeling an intensity to continue playing, a giddiness bubbling. Her hands relentlessly made other signs in clumsy but swift motions. As she finished the combination, the index and middle finger were the only fingers not wrapped in a fist and her mouth puckered into an O shape. Nothing came from it at first, but a rumbling and a shrillest of whistles resonated in the inner part of his ears, with a sharp edge of chakra energy licking his eardrum and the immediate pressure building in his temples told him something bad was about to happen. He looked up to see his opponent giving him a wicked smile that was almost impossibly wide, her gaze stared into his in delicious anticipation that was chilling, his giddiness vanishing as something about the air between their forms felt wrong and dropping in temperature rapidly. His vision began to vibrate in a painful way violently shaking his head exploding into a piercing pain, his hands helplessly pressing against his ears. He forced himself to keep one eye open to watch his opponent who had suddenly become much more dangerous and gasped at the coldness and intensity of his new student. But just as he thought his head would explode, the demonic smile disappeared and the pressure released him as she shook her head, clutching her forehead. Her hand pressing to one eye releasing a small hiss of pain.
Though his ears rang, the pain disappeared and with it he felt the blood pulsing desperately, and a hot slickness dribbled out on the side closest to his new student. He turned to call a halt to the exercise when her booted foot connected squarely with his face imprinting ridges painfully to his features and sent him careening towards the ground. As he came to a stop into a crouch, his hand pressed against the point of connection, being his nose, chin, and mouth.
"Are we done already, sensei?"
He got to his feet ready for another blow.
"You've impressed me," he sniffed with his bruised nose. "But I want to see more!"
"I think I have one more move left."
He waited for her to show it, ready for another taste of the power she had exuded only moments ago, rattled but prepared to fight for his life if necessary. The power had been overwhelming, but Nishira hadn't been able to control it. Her form wobbled ever so slightly before him, and Kakashi knew she'd be at her limit; he'd be surprised if she'd last another five minutes sparring. Nishira bent forward just slightly, the index and middle finger pointed up, connecting with her lip, he noticed ever so puckered, and in doing so, Kakashi heard the whisper of wind that flew by and erased her from his view in broad strokes.
He stayed perfectly still, keenly aware of everything in his surroundings. The beginnings of perspiration beaded on his forehead as he tried to anticipate the next move. The look she had the crooked smile and darkened eyes, it bothered him, but he couldn't quite place why. It seemed completely foreign, like for a moment she was someone else. The gentlest of voices, with a velvety purr, spoke directly in his undamaged ear.
Wait for it, sensei.
As soon as he looked that way, the voice was gone. He stood ready for another attack, which didn't come. After an embarrassingly long time, Kakashi stood with realization. She'd left him in the woods.
