Chapter five: Birthday
One more year has passed; Hoshiko wears what her mother has deemed semi–formal, but she's never been good with fashion and things like that. She loves shopping and has always practiced makeup, but apparently, out of all the 'girly' things she could do, clothes were not one of them. And horses, cannot forget that one.
She sighs while brushing her hair; her new family has drama, and she's tired of it. What god did she piss off for this to happen? Were there always that one troublesome cousin who always makes things difficult? Cousins...
It's her cousin's birthday; he's a snobbish boy who always gets what he wants. She's pretty sure that the guy is a total sadist as well. Luckily (unluckily), she has experience dealing with those kinds of guys. At least he is a lot dumber than the one she previously had to deal with and not as insane. To be fair, the other guy she's thinking of lost his mind due to more outside influences, ones that she doubts her now–cousin has ever dealt with.
Her cousin's name is Kaji; he's turning sixteen now, and well, anyone could guess from the snobbish act that he was heavily spoiled as a child. Kaji comes from the richer side of the family, and while her family isn't poor—far from it, in fact—they aren't rich, rich like Kaji's family.
That family is also a bit distrustful, which Hoshiko understands. They have a lot of money in a world where assassins openly exist; truly the cons of being rich in a world like this. She sighs once more; that family was so difficult. How she'd like it to just be a normal affair—a small gathering with some family and a cake with a few extra decorations; that was all they needed plus it was even the common here.
She'd just have to deal with it. She feels weird but also glad that her mother finally let her at least go with makeup—only eyeshadow or eyeliner though. Her mother likes experimenting with the stuff, so she luckily has all the right colors, not shades sadly, but she can deal with that for now; she's just gonna keep them in her room. She's not too sure she can get away with what she plans, or maybe.
She puts the board back; she could maybe ask for the right ones when they go out. She's pretty sure she's seen a few places that sell the stuff on the way. So while they were going, she grabs her mother's sleeve, "Kā-san... can we go there later?" Hoshiko had thought over not asking until they were walking back, but this would be better in case they intended to go a different way. Her mother easily agrees, and she's glad for that. As they are on their way, she spots her own reflection, and her hand tightens on her mother's.
They had seen the white spots; they've grown, and there's not much that can be done about them. No one knows what she's going to look like in the end, but what they do know is that she's losing color and graying faster than normal. Vitiligo, they called it.
They look into her mouth and see spots of white; she can almost feel them. She's also getting them on her stomach and feet; so far, it hasn't spread a lot, but she can see silver spots in her hair. Everyone can see them and she just hopes that her whole head would then turn white; maybe then she wouldn't feel so self-conscious about it. It's annoying.
She turns away, blowing a strand of hair away from her eye, but it latches onto her eyelashes, so she has to pull it away herself. They arrive at the house, bigger than most she has seen here, not a simple house but also not a mansion.
They are let in quickly; Hoshiko doesn't look around; she already knows what to expect. Instead, she goes over to where all the kids under ten are. They weren't that great to be around; Hoshiko loved kids when she was an adult, but now? They were annoying and drooled a lot when they were two and three.
She sits down and listens to her cousins tell each other stories. There are only five of them there, including her younger cousin, five years old, named Manami, and three from her father's side—two twin brothers, both four, and a girl a year older than her. The girl's name was Noa, while the boys were Kazuya and Kazuha; the similarity in names was very much intentional.
They are all catching up on what they are doing, and then they look at her. Hoshiko smiles, "I've just been studying for the academy." They go back to talking, except Noa; she scoots closer to Hoshiko, "the academy has to be hard." Hoshiko puts on her best smile and stills her hands, "yeah, I don't have the best aim just yet." Noa nods, "what's your class ranking... you guys have that right?" Noa isn't going to be a shinobi; she's banned from ever trying to become one; their family is already doing well with their current business "I'm second in class rankings"
They sit in silence, unsure of where to take the conversation; it gets pretty awkward. Hoshiko tries to brainstorm some ideas but gets nothing for the time being, then "what are you learning right now?" She asks. The older girl hums, finger rolling sounds in her brown hair, "we're focusing on geography right now. It's been interesting hearing the differences between shinobi and civilian traveling speeds."
Hoshiko nods, "they've got to be pretty different..." but... "why are you learning both?" She asks, confused and also trying to keep up the conversation. "I don't know, I'm guessing it's more of a 'learning experience' thing." She hums, enlightened.
They were called for food, and after that, it'll be desserts, and then the presents. The food was nice; the cake was great, and then presents. It was customary to be very careful with the wrapping paper; children are clumsy and do make mistakes, but Kaji is seventeen, so really, he shouldn't have any problems other than maybe the tape, but that's pretty understandable. And so, the birthday went off without a hitch until the very end.
Luckily for them, they weren't involved, but Noa was; there was a fair bit of screaming. Hoshiko, being only nine at the time, wasn't allowed to listen and instead waited outside. It was warm outside, and their garden was quite expansive; it made sense, she supposes when you've got money to launder around; why not use it?
She doesn't want to think she'd do that; she likes to believe that she'd live modestly, even if rich. But, well, like she said: When you've got money, why not use it? There's charity, of course, to save dying children, but those are... well, let's just say they're rare in a world where killers, assassins, and thieves run around freely to do that in the name of their country.
And child soldiers, of course, can't forget that fact too. Hoshiko always wondered if she really was a good person (she wasn't). She knows she isn't perfect, and no one ever will be, but why? Why doesn't she feel as if it's a crime? Why does she feel... ah, it's been normalized for her.
She knows subjectively that child soldiers are bad, but when you live in a world where that's the norm, maybe you just get used to it? Or maybe the social conditioning of her previous life wasn't as strong as she thought it was.
She thought that child soldiers were bad, that many things the people here did were bad; they didn't have the moral high ground, yet... did she? Hoshiko sighs, tired of mental gymnastics, wondering if she's right or wrong, wondering if all she learned before was just a waste.
Sure, it helped her slightly in the academy, but does that matter when she can't beat every one of her peers? She's not nine like them; she should be better, yet she's not. She's just... she's worse. Is there anything she can really be good at? Anything special to her and her alone? Well, not alone but something that distinguishes her.
Sasuke has his Sharingan and Kirin; Naruto has shadow clones and Kurama. What about her? Sakura was a healer and had super strength.
Sakura... it's been a while since they were friends. She was... Hoshiko didn't deal well with loud sounds. The only reason she's pulling through it with Naruto is that he's going (hopefully) to be her teammate. If she didn't know who he was going to be, what he was going to do, then... she cannot guarantee that she'd be around him.
She likes talkative; talkative is fine, but certain voices and volumes just scrape in her ears like little knives cutting at her eardrums. Well, there are also repetitive sounds that make a restrictive feeling permeate through her head. Maybe it's for the best to get used to it now... but that's not what she was thinking about, was it?
What she needed was something to distinguish herself from others, to not just be your Average Girl. She needed to be better, to work harder and become someone, but someone. She wants to be someone, someone who has left a mark on this world, who has become known and... and important. She wanted to be someone important, someone known... selfish, isn't it?
Is changing the rotten system just a cover for her selfishness, for her want for fame? She doesn't know. Hoshiko has never truly known herself; she has never delved into the horror that her mind is made of. She has tried; she has jumped into that never-ending darkness, and she had found something, something terrifying, something she didn't want to know nor remember.
All she could remember from that day was fear and disgust; all she could think of is what a horrible person she probably was to feel so much pain and abhorrence from her own self.
She didn't want to think; she didn't want to move. She was tired; she was tired of this party, tired of walking around eggshells with her cousins, and tired of hiding.
Why did she have to be the one reborn with this? Why was she the only one with memories? She was tired, and she wanted to believe there are others like her; in another life, but the only reincarnations she knows aren't true reincarnations.
She wonders if she could ever tell her teammates that she was from another world where their lifestyle was seen as a sin, as a horrid thing that's been done to them. She could only be glad that children are, no matter how little, still valued here, still the king, the one to be protected, and the one who could barely move, restricted by their own self, by their bodies and minds.
But as they develop in this world, so does their chakra, so does the very thing that has taken away their childhood. Chakra; the mixture of spiritual and physical energy, and yet Hoshiko doesn't have a lot of chakra.
She's a civilian, so maybe that's normal, but shouldn't she have more? As an adult in the body of a child, shouldn't she have more chakra than the average civilian-born child? But she was reincarnated; no matter how much you train those muscles, they will never follow you to the next life. So maybe what she lacked was the physical energy? Was that why she was so much weaker, so much smaller than everyone else?
That would be interesting and hard to fix. She didn't want to become like Lee, to put every one of her waking hours into training; she couldn't do that. She needed rest for both her mind and body. She may not be a Taijutsu specialist, but that doesn't mean she can't focus on something. She has many options laid before her, not every one of them, but quite a few.
Her father's seal work had opened a spot in the hospital; that technique had also opened a potential spot as a seal master or a seals user. She doubts she could ever master such a complex art; there must be a reason why they are so hard. She'd made theories, but they didn't work. If there were set metrics, certain symbols, then why wouldn't the Uchiha use it? They had the perfect tool for memorization.
Hoshiko shook her head and instead sat there, waiting for her parents to come over. It took a while, but her brother came with luckily not too long into her waiting.
They finally went home, and she didn't forget the thing she wanted. There wasn't a board with every color she needed, so instead, she had to buy singles. they weren't the right shade, she doesn't think anyone would make the eyesore that those were.
They were truly oversaturated to the point of blinding you, but she had her colors purple, cyan, red, and yellow.
They'd be used under the eyes; purple and cyan on the left, then red and yellow on the right. It was a reminder then and now of what they were, what they once had, of people long gone. She doesn't know if or how she wants to remember the others, but if she does, then maybe she'll just get them in tattoo form. That seemed nice, didn't it? Maybe she should also get those – she held the eyeliner up to her face – in tattoos; she wouldn't get them close to the eyes. That was needlessly dangerous, but maybe the hands? Back of the hands would probably work best.
They were hers; she clenched her fists. They weren't the same fists she'd once used to protect them. She didn't have the same mouth that she'd told them off with. She wasn't the same but – she was still her! Wasn't she? She was still – still... was she though?
Memories make a person; that's something she had repeated to herself multiple times now. Memories, experiences, they make you, you. But she hadn't experienced all that in this body, so was she just a fake? A copy, perhaps? Something given the memories to do another. An abomination towards life itself, something that shouldn't exist.
She blinked and realized that she'd already flopped onto her bed, arms spread wide, and with a sigh, she wondered if everything could just be over already. But, of course, not; the day wasn't over, and she had been managing her sleep schedule so well. She can't sleep now.
Maybe she should try to draw? she wasn't feeling it right now... okay, she's going to write, but what to write would be the question. She wasn't very creative; she didn't make stories so... maybe a retelling. She did say she'd make that Indra and Asura thing, didn't she? But strip it of all that makes it identifiable, of names and titles. Instead, she'll write about brothers fighting. It wouldn't be released.
And before she knew it, a whole new story lay across the page. It hadn't been her intention, but as she thought of the Sage of Six Paths, his role and title, she couldn't help but let her mind wander. She wasn't especially creative, but sometimes this would happen; she'd create stories out of vague ideas and memories.
It was... strange. She'd written a story of two brothers, one corrupted by a third party... yet, it wasn't the same. A story of siblings fighting and yet never dying; it was incomplete, unfinished... yet she didn't know what else to write. So she closed her book and went downstairs to her father's study; it was also partly a library that she was allowed to take from as long as she returned them.
So she grabbed a book, scribbled out a quick note about which one it was, and that it was her borrowing it, and then went to her room.
There wasn't much to do today; all she could do was read and wait for bedtime. It wasn't that far off; parties like those she attended always took extra long.
She could also practice wearing the makeup she just bought; she was in a new body; her hands probably weren't as steady as before. She closed her novel, and that's what she did.
