8 - Melody メロディー
melody of red,
crimson screams and white petals;
innocence and dreams
The first thing Hisa thinks when she spots an ANBU on the streets is that this is insane. It's not to say that they were never there - they've probably been here since all of time - but to be in plain sight of a four year old is just... well, doesn't it defy the point of them?
She looks away, then turns again, and by then the masked figure is no longer there. From a corner, Mikoto waves her over to the sukiya teahouse, its walls seared with coffee-brown and delicate ikebana displays.
Hisa slides into the seat. "How's the baby?" she asks, matter-of-factly, pushing aside the noren to let the light inside. Usually teahouses contain an ounce of privacy, though conversations are veiled anyway by the meaningless chatter outside.
"Everything's fine," Mikoto answers, her voice somewhat strained from the exertion of pregnancy. "I suppose it's just the morning sickness, but I had no idea life would be this tiring."
Hisa opens the menu and turns it round to face the older woman. "Well, you'd better eat double then," she coaxes, in an effort to regain the lighthearted atmosphere.
There's another ANBU patrolling the entrance to the marketplace outside. Though bustling with window-shoppers and bargainers alike, it's not difficult to find the glitteringly obvious sword and patterned grey mask from their vantage.
Mikoto's lips purse as she notices Hisa's dark expression. "I've seen them too. It seems quite strange, you know, but it must be something to do with the war. Fugaku's not telling me anything."
"The war?" Hisa's incredulous voice betrays the fact that she knows nothing - has heard nothing.
"Haven't you heard? It was officially announced the other day, and the whole country blew up with their damned gossip!" Hisa takes a fraction of a second to open her mouth and close it again, then realises that there's no way she would have heard. She barely goes out, except here and there for shopping and visits, and Haru would never tell her.
"Wait-" she pauses, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. Mikoto stills. "Tell me more."
"I don't know the bulk of it," Mikoto warns, placing a hand on the table. Her eyes drift back down to the menu, though the waitress is nowhere in sight. "Most of it is - well, plain gossip."
Hisa's shoulders tense and she sits up. "Gossip?"
Mikoto's mouth quirks to belie a sigh. "I know, I was a jōnin. Useful skills, really. You might like to try it sometime."
She ignores the comment. "A jōnin? You said you were a kunoichi, but I never knew."
"It's natural," Mikoto reassures, her hand moving to cover Hisa's small fingers completely. "I'm a housewife now - that's the choice I've made for the rest of my life. To bear protectors, not to protect."
"Is there really a difference?" Hisa asks, but the question is drowned out by a wave of shouts from the other end of the street. They both forget the intricacies of their previous conversation as the waitress comes, bearing a tray with two small, plain cups. The teapot hisses; the smoke-filled room is immediately replaced with the gentle scent of tea and miso soup.
"The graduation exams must be coming along soon," Mikoto comments, wincing as the hot liquid burns her tongue. "Will you apply?"
"About half my class is trying for March, but I need more time to think. Maybe I'll do the next one, in September."
"Do you really need more practice, though? Is it just a symbol of defiance to the clan, or is it actually in your best interests?"
"It's not up to me," Hisa says, though it's too late for Mikoto to retract her suspicions.
"What about...a different solution?" the other woman suggests. At Hisa's prompt, she continues. "You know the Clone Jutsu, right? If you wanted more training at home, you can use clones to get to school. I'm sure Haru-san will be on par with that, and none may be the wiser."
Hisa doesn't get a chance to answer, since the noren is pushed open again, flooding the dark booth with blindingly sharp sunlight. She can hear the clink of coins on the counter as the waitress giggles, and the polite chatter of two ladies outside.
Then fiery red. "This is Kushina," Mikoto smiles, looking at the red-haired lady with nothing but affection. "I've invited her to tea, since we haven't gone out for a long time."
"Hello, Kushina-san," Hisa says, tilting her head downwards. The other woman, no, girl - she's not out of her teens yet - barely seems to register her greeting as her red hair flies in all directions.
"Hello, you must be Hisa-chan!" And before she can even process the informal honorific, Kushina smiles brightly and her deep violet eyes flare with happiness. "Miko-chan's told me so much about you, you know!"
"Miko-chan?" Hisa tilts an eyebrow. "You must be alright if Mikoto-nee says you are, I suppose."
Mikoto bows her head in surrender as Kushina flushes. "It's complicated, you know - she's one of Fugaku's youngest cousins."
"Yeah, yeah," Kushina brushes off, pretending to understand. "So, uh, I'm Kushina Uzumaki and I'm a kunoichi too, you know!"
"Verbal tic?" Hisa asks.
"Mhmm," Mikoto nods.
"I can't wait for Mikoto's baby to be born, you know! I'm going to be godmother, and it's going to be so cute, and-"
Hisa stares pointedly at the pregnant woman.
"Alright, alright," Mikoto says. "I-"
"So, anyway, are ya training hard to join the Academy? What was the minimum age again...?"
"I am in the Academy," Hisa says unamusedly. Then her facade crumbles. "You know, any further than that, and it would be ageism."
"Kid, it's not ageism, it's politics, you know," Kushina snorts, Mikoto tugging on her hand to stop her going on too far. "Now, is there any ramen on this menu? I'm kinda really craving some." The serious expression fades into a shyer one, none of which quite suits her.
"We were just talking about genin graduation," Mikoto quickly says, in an effort to change the subject. "The next exam is in March."
"Hisa-chan," Kushina wonders, looking strangely sideways at her. "You're not going to take the exam, are you? Miko-chan, I swear, if Fugaku-san forces her, I'm gonna bash his head in and then-"
"I'm not!" Hisa says, pointedly. "No-one's forcing me anyway." She hopes Kushina misses the lie.
"Enough, enough," Mikoto mitigates, waving her hands in a bid to stop the staring contest. "Ah - I think it's your ramen, Kushina-chan."
They stare as Kushina rapidly devours the bowl, then demolishes another ten.
True to her words, Mikoto informs Haru about her idea, and the next week, Hisa stays home. A well timed clone walks with Kurenai and Asuna to school and comes back without a problem. Even sensei does not realise - though it's pretty justified since he's a chūnin. She'd have thought he'd known, as he's probably had experience dealing with those unruly children.
"You will not divulge any information about this to Fugaku-sama," Haru orders solemnly. "If he knew about this, we would be in deep trouble, especially as you have decided not to take the genin graduation exam."
He's being surprisingly lenient on her for refusing to take the exam, perhaps because he wants her to build up her skills. Half a year - what does it matter anyway?
"Kurenai-chan and Asuma-kun are taking it," Hisa says offhandedly. "They've handed in their forms in already."
"The Sarutobi heir? Son of the Hokage?" At Hisa's reflexive nod, he shakes his head in approval. "Perhaps that will strengthen the relationship between the Uchiha and Konoha, but only if you handle things with suitable diplomacy." Haru sighs. "Another topic for later, then. You are not quite ready right now. We'll start on genjutsu, instead."
"A new genjutsu?" Hisa perks up, with hopeful eyes.
"Yes..." Haru sighs with the patience of an experienced parent. "Now, you'll need your sharingan activated at the start for a guide, though you might be able to do without it at the end..."
Five hours later, she finally finishes training, with the added benefit of a piercingly painful headache.
"You have an affinity for genjutsu," Haru says, perhaps the closest thing to a compliment, "But your lack of skill in other factors severely downgrades your capabilities. We'll work on this first, then maybe go onto taijutsu."
It is this strict routine which she obediently follows as the weeks fly by, genjutsu upon genjutsu until her head is wracked with dizziness. Sometimes he places her in one himself, testing her ability to resist. Others, she must try herself, fingers going over the hand-seals until perfectly memorised.
"Genjutsu is an art form," Haru says, once they stop for rest. "To say it cannot kill anyone is a myth, for it can wreck the information in your mind until you are, quite thoroughly, brain dead. For this purpose, it is commonly used in interrogation, as well as torturing enemy-nins."
Perhaps that is why she feels such earth-shattering pain at a single click of his fingers. Someday she'll be forced to do that to someone else, in a battle for their lives.
The one day she does actually come to the Academy is genin exam day, watching each child try - and maybe fail - to form a complete shadow clone. A knot loosens in Hisa's chest as she spots the shiny silver hitai-ate on Kurenai's head - for relief or disappointment, she doesn't know which.
"Was it easy?" she asks later, merely out of plain curiosity. Asuma shrugs.
"Hey - there's Gai-kun!" Kurenai exclaims. "He must have got his one too, huh. But I wonder how, without any ninjutsu or genjutsu."
It's no secret that the so-called Green Beast of Konoha has some...limitations, though Hisa likes to think it's only the lack of fashion sense. Kurenai yells as Raido surprises them from behind.
"Eh, he just ran a few hundred laps around the Academy, and they passed him." Raido answers cheerfully, slinging a hand around Asuma's shoulder and ignoring the said boy's disgruntled face.
"That, or his plain taijutsu," Hisa wonders. "Maybe I should get some tips...?"
"Oh, never!" Kurenai laughs, waving a hand at the absurdity of the idea. "It'd ve better to ask someone like Kakashi-kun. He's-"
"Don't start fangirling," Asuma groans, rolling his eyes with the least effort he can manage. "Anyway, I doubt you'd get anything. The boy's a genius, but a one-on-one training session? Impossible."
"I'll hold you to that," Hisa warns, a twinkle in her eye.
"I'd rather not," Asuma says firmly. He, too, is holding a sparkling hitai-ate inscribed with Konoha's logo - the whirl, a symbol of the Leaf.
"Did you know that Gai-kun and Kakashi-kun were in the same class years ago?" Kurenai tells them, oblivious to their prior conversation. "Though of course, it took poor Gai-kun much longer to finish his studies. He's probably too taijutsu-minded, you know - so it was pretty difficult for him to focus on other stuff."
"Makes sense," Raido agrees.
The bell rings again. Kurenai smiles. "Well, we'll see you tomorrow, Hisa-chan! I hear that sensei's going to call out the teams - I wonder who I'm going to be with.
Asuma gives an impatient sigh. "You know, it's not that difficult to figure out. The top kunoichi and shinobi go together, and the one with lowest marks joins them. The others are picked in order of three."
"No kidding," Raido grins. "Well, at least you'll be able to smoke now, Asuma-san."
"I thought you have to be an adult to smoke?" Hisa asks. The three of them look at her in surprise.
"You are an adult," Kurenai explains, biting her lip, "I mean, you will be, when you graduate. That's the law - though you get more rights once you're chūnin."
Hisa folds her arms. It seems absurd that small children like them barely out of adolescence can be classed as adults, when others older and wiser are derided and disregarded.
"They probably have to do that because of the war," she muses. "Who wants children in a war? You could call them adults and get it over with, and it also sounds better to the Fire Daimyo. He'll probably lend us more supplies."
Raido gives a small, false laugh. "Yeah...the war...anyway, we'll see you tomorrow."
Hisa doesn't miss the speed at which the other three get out of there. "Goodbye?" she calls weakly, but they're already gone.
The next day, she doesn't bother showing up for the team arrangement, even though there's an active rumour that the Hokage might be there. Hisa doubts it. She's only seen him a few times, but he doesn't seem like a person to blatantly show favouritism towards his son.
They're only temporary, she reminds herself, pushing away the guilt at not being there. You were never meant to have friends anyway, only to serve Konoha.
Haru is either oblivious to or completely ignores her internal struggles.
"Genjutsu practice again?" Hisa guesses, closing the notebook and twisting her lip.
He gives her a wry smile in return. "You certainly are learning fast. Well, how about it - I'll see how far you've gone."
Even without the sharingan, she has progressed to a point where she can do one without hand-seals. The tricky part is chakra control - minimising her usage so that she doesn't get fatigued so easily. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Haru has the same thing in mind - forcing her to practice each technique until she can do it in her sleep.
Behind the crack in the locked door, Shisui has taken to watching them. Every day without fail, his chakra signature flits about, ceasing to disappear until a few hours into their training. Hisa meets Haru's eyes, but they refuse to acknowledge anything about it, so her little brother observes them peacefully until he gets tired.
"It is practice for later," Haru comments, once there is no trace of him, and Hisa knows he is not talking about herself.
"The Academy - he will go in three years?" she ventures, hoping that it isn't any earlier.
"Maybe," Haru responds calmly. "There is no need to go early, of course - Fugaku-sama has no expectations like that. Though I would highly recommend he go in two."
It is a spiteful jab, Hisa knows - one that shows how much weight she has as the eldest, and how little Shisui will get. But there is always the underlying relief that he will not be burdened like her, perhaps even miss the war entirely if he graduates late. Somehow, she knows that it'll never happen.
"He will train early, then," she thinks out loud, and it is not a question, because Haru will definitely do that to him, break him into a million pieces and more. Just like he did to her.
"Yes," he answers, with a tone of finality, and Hisa knows that is the end of that conversation. "Now, since Shisui is sleeping," his voice lowers, "I have a technique to show you."
"Here?" Hisa hesitates.
"We're going out, get ready in five."
Ten minutes later, because they all know how she likes to spite him, Hisa has changed into a shorter kimono, Haru in his police uniform, and they set off down the road. It's mostly familiar - until Haru turns into another strange street she's never seen. A steep one.
She manages to stumble half the time, trying not to trip over half the rocks obstructing her path or fall too quickly down the narrow road. It's probably revenge for making him wait.
They finally reach the Konoha Military Police Force Headquarters - and sure enough, there seem to be many other, shorter ways to get there. Hisa glances at Haru, but he looks the picture of innocence. No - not quite innocent, perhaps a little tense. Serious. Stern. Something is happening behind these doors, but what?
Almost all of the lobby consists of Uchiha on assignments, and the rest are usually mothers with tiresome complaints, civilians with arguments against shinobi, and offenders who somehow manage to steal civilians' purses in a blink of an eye.
"In here," Haru motions, and it seems like they're allowed to, because no-one bats an eye. A set of keys jangle in his pocket, which he, in turn, uses to open multiple doors into a sprawling complex of departments. Hisa's unsure that she'll ever remember her way out.
And that's when the screams start. They echo through the halls, bouncing off corridors as they get closer and closer to the source of the noise, and then Haru opens another door, and...
She's not sure what she sees.
Blood.
There's no other word to describe it - it's just blood. Red, crimson, shaky, flowing steeply down the edges of each room, mauled flesh and skin lying everywhere and painting the walls in a gruesome display. It's definitely an interrogation - an Uchiha, barely out of his thirties, spots Haru and waves him over into the next room as he clutches Hisa's hands. He's casually smoking a cigarette - almost smiling as the heavy smoke chokes them all.
"A child, eh?" he asks, peering suspiciously at Hisa. "Well, if anything previously hasn't, this will scar her for life. You sure she's ready? We've never brought a child in - at least not until chūnin."
"Yashiro-kun," Haru's eyes narrow, and there is a hint of warning in his tone.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Yashiro shrugs, fully avoiding Haru's eyes.
With or without approval, it's still too late. The sight in front of them - the man in chains, is remarkably gory for an interrogation.
So much blood.
Hisa takes a step back, head hitting the back of the stone wall with a crunch. Somewhere, out there, someone is screaming. The roof is stained with red, no doubt from the thousands of pricks inflicted on the victim's face.
Victim.
What has he done to deserve this? It's a boy, his Iwagakure hitai-ate half-hanging off his melted flesh and bones. Cutting into his hand.
"Tell me what you know," Yashiro advances, holding a knife in his hand. It glints threateningly, then silver swoops down towards - Hisa closes her eyes.
The boy shrieks as the knife plunges into his left arm, Yashiro rapidly taking a chunk off flesh. "I-I don't-!" Then a muffled burble escapes his lips as the knife cuts into the side of his mouth. Not enough to permanently wound. Just enough to scar. The fresh blood drips down like a river as Yashiro licks his lips.
"No-!" Hisa tries to call out, Haru holding her back with an iron grip. Something weak flickers in the boy's eyes. Hope.
"Don't," Haru reprimands, and she struggles against his hand. "He's an enemy ninja. He would have destroyed our supply lines if their attack was successful. We would all starve."
"It's either us or him, kid," Yashiro says, slicing the tip of the boy's finger. Their screams intertwine, and not just because of the brutally mangled body jerking around in pain.
"The Hokage...allows this?" she gasps, trying to inhale and exhale the air quickly because she can't breathe and-
"It's either us or them," Yashiro-kun repeats. "A filthy Iwa-nin, or half of Konoha."
"Tell us what you know," Haru echoes, watching impassively as the boy struggles to talk.
"I-I don't k-know a-"
"You do," Yashiro-kun says. "See, kid?" he explains, "This is all their fucking mouths can do. Lie. And that..." his voice is deadly low, "deserves a punishment, doesn't it?"
Hisa lunges out, but before Haru can restrain her, Yashiro-kun spears the knife into the Iwa-nin's eye, ignoring the heart-shattering howl of pain and fear. "Why!?" she screams, trying to control her turbulent, rapidly racing emotions. "Why are you doing this? He's just a boy!"
"A boy who could have killed us all," Haru growls. "Never forget that."
Hisa closes her eyes in an attempt to take control over her shallow, loose breathing. When she opens her eyes again, her ears ring with shrieks, and the boy's eyes are simply...gone.
He can't see now.
Where they should have been, dark pupils contorting in pain, is just a hollow blackness of...nothing. Nerves tangle inside the sockets, as if they have been cut out by scissors and twisted together again. There are no screams now. Instead, the boy can only whimper as his pain increases and as the world explodes in showers of darkness.
Hisa's head violently begins to ache at the visceral scene in front of her, one that will never dissipate for the rest of her life. Somewhere, in her mind, fear begins to grow. Is that...is that what the enemy could one day do to her?
The clock ticks on.
"I need more information," Yashiro pauses, "Think you can handle it for me?"
Foam bubbles from the boy's lips, his hands turn icy blue as he manages a dull screech again. "Deoxygenation," Haru murmurs. He looks up again. "Now, watch closely - here's the technique."
Hisa can't shut her eyes - not with Yashiro's hands on the either side of her head, ready to pry open her hands in a moment's notice. Haru runs through the hand signs and she unknowingly memorises them all, even though she cannot see what's happening inside.
The boy thrashes in agony again, tears rolling down his eyes as the chains bite into his wrists. "I won't!" he screams, though the blinding flash of light says otherwise. "I-" his voice dies down as his body tenses up.
It is less than a few seconds later when Haru nods, his eyes momentarily glancing at the the blood trickling from the boy's nails. "I'll write it up in a report," he dismisses, with a wave of his hand. "But first - I suppose this would be good training, hm?"
Hisa tries to shake out of Yashiro's grip, lashing out whenever she can and punching every inch of skin in reach, but she's no match against a taller, more experienced adult.
"It's either that, or you kill him," Haru raises an eyebrow. "What's your choice, Hisana?"
She definitely does not want to have her first kill now. Hisa stops struggling, though her hands still tremble as Yashiro lets go of her, hands staggering over the hand-seals. The first time, nothing happens. Both men wait expectantly at her, and she knows that none of them will go away until she has successfully completed her task.
Somewhere in the middle of her stomach, she fights back the irge to throw up.
Again. The second time, Hisa swerves upside down into a different world, one of white and black and...blood. "I want to make this quick," she whispers, against the boy's pleads as his charred flesh slides off pearl-white bone. Please, tell me what you know. I'll let you go. Please."
He's evidently seen this world before with Haru, because his mouth immediately starts running like a tap, throwing his secrets away into the drain.
"I-" he starts, then gasps again with suffering, "We brought out two teams to cut your supply lines, but everyone else...died."
"Who?" Hisa prompts, gently.
"I don't know..." he whimpers.
"An Uchiha?"
"Yeah," the boy struggles out. "The crest." It's like he's reliving the faint wisps of the memory again, Hisa thinks, and then realises that it's exactly what it does. A memory. Plays it over and over again into the victim's fear and pain. He shrieks again as his features contort, but she's not done.
"Are you sure you don't know anything else?" she asks, but it is clear that he doesn't know, clear from the tears running down the face of a small, scared boy.
"N-no, just please-!"
Hisa makes up her mind. "I'm going to kill you now," she offers, her voice laced with the remnants of pity. And then the kunai from who-knows-where arcs high above his head and all that is left is silver and blood and...
Black.
Notes - 13/08/23: To my lovely readers and reviewers, thank you for all the comments. I will be changing the rating from T to M for violence just to be safe, however this will be quite rare.
lovehearts,
m.b.