Nishira hadn't seen the sun's radiance in over a month. It has been sunny no doubt, but her daily routine since her initiation was to arrive at ANBU headquarters, more specifically the windowless basement, before sunrise and not leave until the sun had already set. Any days off were spent at her desk reviewing extra scrolls from the library records. The Butcher was not at all what Nishira expected. She was a tiny woman, barely tall enough to see the counter, with deep set frown lines around her mouth and eyes. But those dark eyes sparkled with curiosity and a quick intelligence, and her thick lips still smiled easily. Her wiry grey hair was pulled back into a strict bun that showed off a large forehead with an uneven hair line. Despite that, Nishira found herself enjoying her tutor's company as the only new student from this round of shinobi exams. Jonin exams were still another two months away.

In this day's work, Nishira stood hands deep in a corpse of a middle-aged man. On the other side, standing on a comically large stool, stood The Butcher, her small eyes comically enlarged from the loups over them, as she stared into the open cavity.
"Scalpel."
Nishira handed her the right tool from the lineup, it had taken a few weeks of being yelled at to get it right. The lady brandished the wrong utensil threatening to beat her with it. Giving her the right utensil was the only sure way The Butcher wouldn't follow through with the supposed threat.
"Okay, Nishira. What's next?"
Nishira pressed her lips together in thought.
"We did an external examination, and x-rays, we've looked at the brain and put it aside so we can take slides once it's done in the formalin. We've cracked open the chest, so now it's time to process the internal organs, get samples of the fluids, blood samples, tissue samples, and stomach contents for investigation."
Nishira counted on each finger of her slimy gloved hand to make sure she had counted them all. Her teacher seemed pleased to Nishira's relief.
"Yes, and you're going to do all that, and then tell me the cause of death."
"It's probably the giant sword we pulled from his chest."
Nishira gestured to the blade they had pulled from the chest before beginning the autopsy.
"Perhaps. But maybe not. We don't run on assumptions; we make sure its right. ANBU can't make those kinds of mistakes. Above all else we get the job done and done right."

Nishira nodded before beginning to remove each of the internal organs, inspecting them carefully for anything abnormal, taking samples as she went, filling vials of fluids, and making slides of the scraped tissues to identify under the microscope in the next room, which lay a full lab. Quietly, she did her work in a practiced motion, anxious to please her intimidating instructor. The Butcher was an excellent teacher. The knowledge imparted from her head made Nishira's hands sure and steady, as the sifted through slides and wrote down her findings. Nishira applied them into the computer moved at a glacial pace, the black screen of antiquated technology clicked insistently like an old man trying to tell you a story from half a decade ago.

While she made her way through them, The Butcher watched idly.
"Did you read that paper by Inedaira we talked about yesterday?"
"Yes, it was fascinating. Although his conclusion that the liver can help filter the chakra needs more evidence to pinpoint the function. It's still too vague. But Dotaro wrote a paper a year after Inedaira published saying it wasn't the liver itself, but the islet cells may be responsible. So, it might be the pancreas that can somehow change the purity of chakra."
"When did that come out?"
"Umm, maybe three or four issues ago."
"You read it on your own?"
"I was reading it for another article. It had a study on the hormones that help chakra control when moods are fluctuating."
"What were you looking for?"
"I was trying to master a justsu I was struggling with before the exam."
The Butcher sat on her stool, her feet dangling off the floor, almost in a childish way, despite the severity of the senior woman.
"It has been a while since I met a student this interested in the readings, maybe you'll be assigned to Frog division."
"Frog division?"
"That was part of your handbook." She spoke shrewdly, Nishira pursed her lips at the hole in her readings, mentally slotting it for that night, over cup ramen. "Since you are unprepared, I will enlighten you, child. ANBU is divided into eight separate divisions. Falcon Division hunts down and disposes of enemy and rogue shinobi. Owl division is information retrieval, they are the spymasters. Bear division members are protectors of the village, that is their domain, and they know everything about it. Cat division are assassins. Wolf division are interrogators. Some might call them torturers. Frog division are combat medics. Lastly, our leaders and masterminds make up the Dragon Division."
"That's only seven."
"Oh, sorry dear, I meant seven. It'll be a curiosity where you end up. It seems that your skills and intuition would make you a formidable assassin with some control and discipline, and your quick understanding of the body and its manipulation would suit Frog division, but I see how serious you take your studies, and intelligence, perhaps something with research and intelligence would be ideal for the studious mind."
Nishira punctured a part of the intestine with her scalpel, exploding a whitish putrid pulp all over her face shield and smock. She stood there, grimacing at the heinous smell that surrounded her, realizing the goop it was in her hair, she groaned. The Butcher just chuckled to herself before scribbling something in her notebook.

The Butcher had Nishira running around with little regard for her other classes or studies. It made sense though, at least to Nishira, as she strolled through the village with more books taken out from the library. She could still smell that she had been elbow deep in bodies filled with the pungent formaldehyde. An old couple crossed to the other side of the street to avoid her, and one little boy with nappy hair cried and told his mother 'Mom, my nose hurts!'.

She sighed, distracted by the fact that a shower wasn't in the cards until much later before colliding into a hard object in her path, spilling books and pages everywhere and landing painfully on her rear. She glared up at whoever she'd bumped into before realizing it was Kakashi. He looked down apologetically, chuckling while rubbing the back of his head.
"Sorry about that. I thought you saw me."
He reached to help her with the papers before the smell assaulted his nose, eye widening and immediately watering. He fought the urge to turn away or raise a hand to his face. Nishira saw his efforts and felt her cheeks burn.
"Is that smell you?"
Nishira hastily began collecting her books in silence, averting her eyes from his gaze, not wanting to admit it, even though it was plainly obvious.
"Listen, can we talk later? I can't right now with the team but-"
"Kakashi sensei, hurry up! The client is waiting!"
Sakura's irritated voice came from behind them, Nishira looking up to see her frowning, delicate hands crossed over her chest and a sassy look as she brazenly looked at her teacher with plain irritation.
"Oh? Nishira?"
"Sakura, stay back there."
"Kakashi sensei?"
"Just trust me and say hello from there."
Nishira gave a small wave and an embarrassed shrug, before standing with her collected goods.
"Sakura, how are you?"
Nishira side stepped Kakashi to his surprise.
"Just on another mission, I think we're pulling weeds this time. My mom wants to know if you liked the washing powder?"
"Oh yeah! It took the blood right out! Thank her for me!"
"I will!" Sakura's lit up face fell immediately as she spotted Kakashi awkwardly standing there, her emerald eyes almost rolled into the back of her head. "Come on, sensei, the boys are waiting for us."
"Right, uh." He coughed as Sakura took off. "Tonight, can we talk?"
"I'm sorry, Kakashi, I'm very busy. I'll be living in my shower to try and wash this stench off me."
She went to walk away but a heavy hand on her shoulder stopped her.
"Please, Nishira. I know you've been avoiding me."
"I was scared, and you comforted me. That's all that happened that night. Thank you, for- well thank you, I guess, for the great orgasm. I could go for another one, but there wasn't anything else. You don't have to worry about my modesty. Besides, I don't even know anything about you, except that you're an orphan."
Her face contorted for only a moment, a spasm of pain in her heart, and Nishira felt a small bit of relief at not facing him as her composure broke. Kakashi didn't respond. Unseen by her was the face of hurt, hidden behind the mask, so she kept walking, knowing there was a long night ahead of studying.

Rounding the next corner, Nishira spotted another familiar person. Toma, dressed in his new flak jacket marking him as a chunin, walking casually down the street, hand in hand with a person she'd never seen before. The cute dark features of the boy were smiling up at Toma as they strolled away, oblivious of her trailing gaze. She waited for them to leave her line of sight before guiltily continuing her way, despite the plethora of questions burning on her tongue to know who the young man was. Kakashi hadn't been the only person Nishira was avoiding. She didn't deserve to know.

Nishira sat cross legged in her unmade bed looking over medical jutsus after finishing reading the handbook. The Butcher loved to give a quiz whenever the mood struck, which was almost daily. Nishira stopped and looked out the dark window, wondering for the millionth time what would happen if she just ran off, disappeared. But the promise held her there, and as she stared into that inky dark sky, Nishira couldn't think of where she'd actually go. The Land of Birds was where they found her and now 'they' knew about the temple. Not to mention she'd probably appear in the bingo book for all the major shinobi villages, so those lands were out. Maybe Nishira could get away with living back in the Land of Waves, but it seemed like a gamble at best.

A dark shadow hung in the doorway behind her, its shadow draping across the books in her lap and the white bedspread, announcing the presence of an intruder. Nishira felt her heart stutter painfully in her chest, pressing a hand to the bare skin above the neckline of her shirt. Relief flooded in as she realized the specter was only her neighbour Naruto.
"God! You scared me!"
"Sorry about that!" He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb at the door with her boot hole covered with some screwed in plywood. "Your front door was unlocked so I figured you were home. I tried to call out, but you didn't answer. Anyway, I saw these things outside your front door and figured you probably didn't see them, but your light was on, so I knew you were awake."
The clock shone 1:00am in an iridescent and judgemental neon green numbers.
"Why are you up this late, Naruto?"
"Training! I have to make Sasuke respect me! He managed to beat me again today!"
Nishira grabbed a robe to cover her scant pajamas and followed him to the main room, wondering how you can beat someone at picking weeds. On the table next to the box that she'd retrieved from the temple, was a clear plastic bag with a container inside, it looked like a soup or curry. The steam from the heat made water droplets spot the bag, threatening to dribble. There was no card or note, but the smell that came from the untying the bag made her salivate at what would be curry, specifically from the best place in the village. She looked up at the kid without his headband and orange jumpsuit, just some shorts and a t-shirt. He looked like a normal thirteen-year-old boy, who hungrily eyed the package.
"Want some? I won't finish it all."
"Oh boy! I was hoping you'd say that."
She got her solitary bowl out of the cupboard and split it from the container into the bowl. And together they supped, eating the hot vegetables and meat.
"What's in the box?"
Nishira looked at it again, hoping for an answer that didn't involve opening it, but there was nothing.
"I don't know."
"Don't you want to open it?"
Nishira contemplated the answer.
"Not really."
Naruto's confused face looked to her, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, Nishira scooped a piece of tender meat into her mouth before answering.
"It belonged to my mom. It's the last thing I have of her."
"Huh?"
"My mother's dead. On a mission, I stopped by where we used to live and picked it up. I don't know if I want to know what's in it."
"Why not?"
"Because," She shrugged helplessly, dropping some rice down her front which she frowned at. "Opening it means she's dead. like actually dead. Until I open the box, it's like only a bad dream. Do you ever feel like that Naruto, about your parents?"
"I don't really know who my parents are, but I do miss them."
"Me too." Nishira brought up her feet to the edge of the chair and wrapped her arms around her knees, rubbing the stray tear into the fabric of her pants. she ran her hands through her hair awkwardly. "I'm not very good at this. Do you have any other family?"
"No, unless you count Lord Hokage. He's kinda like my grandpa, but not really. Do you?"
"No. I guess I don't." Her mind trailed to Lord Hokage when they were in Iwagakure, the kindness he showed. "I don't know, maybe I do."
Nishira smiled as he scratched his head in confusion.
"How about we make our own family. We can be cousins. We can make up some story about my mother's sister's husband's mistress or something."
"Hey! I like that! Uhhh so, what do cousins do?"
"I'm not sure, but if they were anything like my priestess sisters, then I think we sit and eat together regularly, and help each other with things like remembering chants or dancing."
"But I don't do any chants or dancing."
Nishira chuckled at his honest naïve face.
"Well, we're both shinobi, so maybe it's like practicing or sharing jutsu tricks, or training."
"Hey! That sounds like a great idea! And then maybe we can go for ramen afterwards."
"I think I'd like that." Nishira smiled into her container, seeing the bottom. "Thanks Naruto."
Naruto did his childish grin and giggle. Nishira couldn't stop the warmth that spread through her chest. She tidied up after he left before wandering back to her room, shoving the scrolls haphazardly towards the wall and slept on the small, exposed part she cleared. Her last thought before sleep took her was wondering who had left the container outside the door.