AN: see bottom

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto

Warnings: trauma, the usual I guess?

Chap 20: Food for Thought

Kinme Tip #36: Everyone loves interesting numbers, including seal masters, jutsu makers, archetiques and the like, but if I see 108 one more time, it will be erased until only 44 are left.

~the Kinme mathematician that is just as frazzled as the propaganda specialist

Turns out the sensei didn't appreciate the sudden appearance of my partner, nor did my classmates. It was amusing for the first two seconds, then someone's voice broke, and others proceeded to break the ceiling in regards to pitch. Godawful as my ears may be, holy shit are these kids armed with a good set of lungs. Now we just need to point them at the enemy and we can call it a biological weapon. Kids are generally very organic after all.

The potential Inuzuka and Hatake kids in the classroom were already shooting us looks of despair with hands clamped tightly over their ears, and the unfortunate small lumps of chakra beside them seemed to be quivering.

"Silence!" Boomed my future homeroom teacher, less silent than the lot of them put together. "If you children can't even handle a single child and a pint-sized snake, then you might as well leave. The door is there for any who keeps screaming." His eyes swept over the entirety of the slowly quieting classroom. "I can throw any screamers out the window, and we'll observe how pitch changes as it travels away from us."

The silence that reigned temporarily was a beautiful, fragile thing.

Fragile things don't last long in this world.

Dōsukēru cleared her throat, and when the teacher looked over and motioned for her to speak, I knew it was only going to escalate the situation. She never enjoyed having her size pointed out, especially when the descriptive words involved clocked her size in as "small".

(Considering the behemoths most of the other snake summons were, her meter-long length was a bit of a touchy subject, especially as Sugiryuu was already catching up to her. According to the medics that used to populate our clan, her projected length at most would be two meters, with an averaged expectation of around a meter and a half. The snake summons averaged at three and a half meters, with the incredibly large ones reaching a colossal size of no-one-has-a-ruler-long-enough. We have rulers fifty meters long. Why? I have no idea.)

So, our classmates and teacher are going to be in for quite a treat.

"This 'pint-sized snake'," she said, "has more than enough venom to kill half of the pint-sized humans in this room. Do not underestimate me for my species." Bravo, my scaly partner, I thought while clapping. Now you've scared off at least half the class. Don't get me wrong, communication with kids would've been tiresome either way so scaring them off was a decent solution to this situation, but sometime in the future they will become our coworkers. Much like the orphanage, antagonizing them brings us no advantages. Alas, logic rarely completely rules over emotion, so her retort matched what I would've done exactly.

Despite the lack of audible screaming, nearly all of my future classmates chakras were fritzing up as if they were a little ball of static gradually getting crammed into a smaller, and smaller space. So that's what fear can feel like, interesting. Made me think of a mouse trying to fit itself into a smaller and smaller corner to get away from a cat. The teacher just felt like a tired sort of exasperation. Poor man, he must not have signed up for this.

The only relaxed signature in the entire room other than mine and Dōsukēru's was one smack in the center of no man's land. It barely took any searching before my eyes latched onto a head of red hair. An Uzumaki, no wonder. The chaos that happens on their island is entirely above what little drama that just occured.

"Introduce yourself to the class, so we can continue off from where you interrupted," the teacher said, glancing very obviously at the clock.

I lifted off my hood and removed the scarf, letting it dangle in an armful. Dōsukēru slowly meandered her way out of my scarf until she was a coil on top of my head.

Then she gave me soft whack on the side of my noggin. "This human here is my partner, Kinme Suijami. She is an older sister and one of the last remaining Kinmes on this side of the living world, her specialty is making music and stabbing things." Awww, she knows me so well. Dōsukēru then pointed her tail at herself. "My name is Dōsukēru, and I can kill pretty much anyone in this room in one bite if left for an hour."

Or less. During the testing that we did in the clan, it was determined that her LD50 was about 0.2mg/kg. In non scientific terms, it means that at this dosage of 0.2mg/kg, fifty percent of the test subjects died.

The only test subjects were lab mice, so it might not be the most accurate, but with even roughly 50mg in a single drop, it means that a single drop of her venom can, pardon me, drop the victim. Occasionally it may take a while, but the venom would kill.

These stats are something that we'll be holding close to our hearts because the more that is known the more that could have retaliation measures taken against, but it's not like we would ever use this on our teammates or Konohans. Currently, the full brunt of its toxicity will be reserved for Suna, and the shinobi that were idiotic enough to have lived after the Last Day.

Then, to add insult to injury, she continued very blandly, "we're both six."

"Yes, now we know you can poison things, now go take a seat before I throw you up there." The teacher snapped.

I wonder how he picks people up when he throws them, does he pick them up by the back of their clothing? Or by the collar? Did someone kick him in the leg (and break it) while he was trying to throw them? It seems more and more likely that that is the case.

But, well, ok then. No introductions from my classmates, nor teacher. What a brilliant way to start my educational career in Konoha. On the bright side, it's not as if I could remember the names of all/any of the kids anyways. Not being introduced would be my excuse for knowing absolutely no-one's name in next few days.

But however much I was ok with the slight from the teacher, there was someone who was equally not ok.

My partner's chakra had reared back, showing the offended part of her while still looking as bored as ever. I scratched my head next to where she had whapped, and hid a tap to her tail that caught her attention. Attention grabbed, I shook my head minutely. We've made enough of a fuss, and judging from all the wary looks that most of my classmates were shooting me, they probably won't appreciate my sitting down next to them already. Oro would be proud of my rare demonstration of self-control.

Honestly though, who cares what these kids think? I wasn't going to plop my ass down by an imbecile. At the moment, the only viable options were the clan kids of the Inuzuka clan, Hatake clan, Aburame if I can spy one, or even a Senju. However, the best option of them all was the Uzumaki, and glory behold, she's the one that caused everyone else to not sit in the middle.

So I plopped myself down by the Uzumaki, who merely spared me a surprised glance and said: "hi."

… I thought Uzumaki was more energetic than this? Especially the kids? Like, the last time we were in Uzushio, I was dragged non-stop through the marketplace and beaches and coves and almost into a volcano by a gaggle of sugar-high brats. Thank gods for the barrier seal inside the volcano, but why did they put it in the volcano and not around it?

Even if the going everywhere part was fun, nearly getting burnt to death horribly by a volcano was not how I saw myself dying again. As thrillingly interesting it may be, even as a Kinme my body did not appreciate excruciatingly high temperatures.

Whatever, the less we need to talk now, the better. All substantial talking can be done after class, when all the other kids leave and are not so obviously spying on the new kid. Giving her a little finger wave before the teacher yells at us again, I prepared for learning.

Actually, the two of us probably won't learn anything from this class either since it was just teaching us more "advanced" arithmetics, i.e., multiplication because apparently the village wouldn't appreciate its ninjas getting ripped off when buying bulk amounts of gear. Oro could do this while practicing his chakra control. Heck, Sugiryuu could do most of these in ten seconds flat, and he wants to specialize in biology.

Why exactly was this included in our list of courses when it was evident to the headmaster that we could sleep through and still ace it? I peered down at my course schedule again, and realized that it was probably because it was the only homeroom class on Thursday, and we probably need at least one classroom class to "cool" down from the physical aspects of class.

It was a bit traumatizing to realize that literally almost every class for us was exercise, all but a single class per day. This would've been the perfect schedule for the Might clan/tribe/family/secret cult of green spandexed bowlcuts. Perhaps I should've thrown a few more of the questions on that pop exam…

Taking a moment to commit the schedule to heart, I held it up to my partner to do the same. Half a minute later and the paper was plucked from my grasp, a flurry of confetti raining down around my head a second later.

Since we didn't need to study the course contents, then we could use this time to study our classmates. Fully enveloping the large sized classroom with my chakra-sense was easy, but it took a lot more to concentrate and meld each person's appearance with their signature since that's easier to remember than their names. By the time I was approaching the last few kids, the class was almost over.

The conclusion I came to was that most, if not all of my classmates were older than me, their chakra having a more aged feel to it, plus they look older as well. Yeah… that may have been the deciding factor. Judging from those facts, the kids seem to range from the younger end of seven to perhaps nine, my age of six being among the youngest.

Part two of my not-so-large conclusion was that most of my classmates originate from clans, the only civilian students wary and with chakra signatures almost half the size of mine. If my assumptions and estimations hold correct, there should be approximately a ratio of nine to one in regards to clan kids to civilians, if not more skewed.

For the clan kids that made it into this class, I suppose it would also give them more networking opportunities since most of these kids will form allegiances or something. I think. No politics for me, nope, political science is not something that can be quantized for my brain.

When the bell finally tolled for lunch, we hung back to try to talk to the Uzumaki. Even though communication right before class started might not have been the best idea, but with the break upon us, perhaps I could find us an ally in a class full of kids against snakes.

On the history side of things, the Uzumaki and Kinme have been allies for generations. Our allied status may not be as old as that between them and the Senju, but it is nearly as respected.

Out of boredom, apparently some merchant guild or something decided to make a ranking for the shinobi clans. They knew that it would create stereotypes, but it was also useful for finding an average of capabilities and help those that care about specifics determine which clan they would want to hire for a specific job. Some instances of their rankings would be ranking loyalty, tracking capabilities, sealing capabilities, overall capability for combat, most medically advanced, best at assassinations, and even traits like least likely to eat all of the client's food stock and best guides in certain types of terrain. Hell, in one of the older lists I found in the Kinme library we ended up laughing at the ranking that organized the top clans best for marrying into, one of which was the Shimura… That was… Interesting.

Why those rankings didn't appear later on in "canon" I will never know, perhaps it was because the villages eventually usurped all the guilds by becoming the general powerhouses that everyone bowed to or died to. Or maybe it was because the clans had all joined villages, and continuing to produce those rankings would be too difficult, what with the information then becoming something of a estimator for a village's overall power. Or maybe it was replaced by the Bingo book to reduce the stereotyping of any single clan, but instead lists out the strengths and weaknesses of all your enemies. Of course, that meant that anyone who gets strong enough has to learn very quickly how to defend their weaknesses, lest risking the wrath of bounty hunters looking for easy money.

What a time we live in, when Clan Rankings were still around, but with Bingo books already populating the hands of bounty hunters. For some reason, the little blurbs about the ninjas that made it onto the Bingo books were like nursery rhymes for my little brothers.

The point was, among the shinobi clans that were ranked for intelligence, Nara consistently came first, with a footnote complaining that they could be first in a lot of other aspects as well if they ever decided to get off their asses (They also permanently hogged top spot for laziness). Then, tied for second, was the Uzumaki and Kinme clan. (Third was Senju and Uchiha, perpetually ranked together, because the merchant guild's didn't want to get brutally murdered in the course of one night). Generally our clans stayed tied, but occasionally there would be an exceptionally awesome discovery that would temporarily pull one ahead. Conversely speaking, that meant whenever one stayed stagnant for too long, it meant that the other one would pull ahead.

The rankings were very powerful motivators for us inventing-orientated clans, it was just too bad the Nara never decided to venture out of medicine. But then again, they would were already too lazy to deal with being called upon repeatedly for missions that require more brain power, what would they do if more was added on that? Oh, the horror~

So while some clans fought to murder each other out of competitive spirit, the Kinme and Uzumaki clans decided that two heads were both smarter and scarier than one, and so an allegiance born of brain power was born. It only escalated from there, what with so many Uzumaki summoning everything and therefore understanding the close bond we have with our snake companions. The fact that our nomadic clan could also help with gathering information and selling some of their less lethal creations while they could supplement some of our less functionable equipement with seals meant that a win-win combination was born.

And of course, in a few decades time, the only ones left of us wouldn't know anything about the glory of their ancestors, just that they were dead and barely remembered.

Hopefully, with our amidable clan history, the Uzumaki won't hate me right off the bat.

"Excuse me?" I said, voice barely pitched above audible. So I don't like speaking loud, bite me.

She threw me an irritated glare. Sheesh, not good.

"What." She said. Then the Uzumaki frowned, "you can talk?"

I nodded. "Yup, I'm Kinme Suijami, nice to meet you!"

She finally bothered to turn around fully, but her expression was pinched. "My name is Uzumaki Tamiko, why are you talking now, or better yet, why are you bothering me?" For a perhaps eight-year-old, her temperament could really use some tweaking. But then again, she sees me as a six-year old kid, and when one is only eight years old, even six-year-olds look incredibly young and stupid in comparison.

I could sense my partner's chakra rising in irritation. Her asking the questions would probably be best despite whatever negative emotion she might funnel into her words. If I was the one doing the asking, it'll just end up with a kid mentally younger than me by over a decade walking all over my pride. Or even worse, me treating Uzumaki like she was a decade younger than me (which she was, mentally). That rarely, rarely works when talking to kids.

"She's talking now because unlike the other kids in here, you won't think we're evil or disgusting just because of me. But now, it seems like you're just like the others." Dōsukēru huffed out a breath that ruffled my bangs. "Why the pissy attitude?"

The Uzumaki kid gasped, "you said a bad word! I'm going to tell sensei!"

What.

"Are you bloody kidding me?" I blurted out. Then trying to be as dramatic as possible because why not? I then asked "why do you hate us so?"

"Because Uncle Kenta died defending your clan, and nobody told me until yesterday." Her chakra wasn't just angry now, it was rolling with a bitterness that could be tasted, and with how Dōsukēru recoiled a touch, it may even have been scentable.

But– how dare she–

My chakra rose in response to my anger and I tried to put a clamp on it. Due to the unbalanced ying-yang nature of my chakra, it has… odd effects on my emotions and a Kinme actually hypothesized that it might even mess with my future grasp on genjutsu or other techniques that need an incredible balanced grasp on ying-yang balanced chakra.

In the time it took for me to wrangle my small pool of chakra down to a less murder-emitting puddle, it hit me. She should be allowed to mourn. Just because we lost more than she did doesn't mean that she no longer has the right to mourn her family in front of us. We all lost something when Suna decided to be the king of backstabbing assholes, and loss of a loved one shouldn't be quantified. Scratch that, it can't ever be quantified. Even if one day physics finally completely figure out what the deal is with quantum particles and quantifying light and all that infinitesimal aspects of our universe, emotions that can be relatively measured on a scale or quantitatively measured via hormones and neurotransmitters in the brain doesn't mean that the sense of loss should be quantified. It's incomparable.

"Oh yeah?" Dōsukēru hissed, words dripping with the venom that she wouldn't let fill her fangs, "we just found out yesterday that the Kinme clan has been reduced from thirteen people to nine. Nobody was supposed to know who was alive yet, because it would only paint even more of a target on us and the others that lived. And that's exactly what happened! You– you think we wanted to keep the information from everybody?"

Uzumaki Tamiko seemed to grow paler with every word, but my partner wasn't done yet. Close as she was to the point of blowing, at least her method of coping was probably somewhat healthier than mine. I think. We probably need to go to that counselling session soon.

"Nobody was supposed to know!" With one last scream, she dived down the back of my jacket, settling beneath all the layers snugly with a tail wrapped around my shoulder. My eyes burned, and I fought down the urge to cry when little hitching shudders was felt throughout the little bit of fabric separating skin from scale.

It was only then that I realized that Uzumaki's eyes were also rimmed with red, and a trail of mucus was starting to run down from her nose. This was… not going well.

And if all of us were sad, all of us being physically children, and the time being lunchtime, then the best remedy would be to eat comfort food, aka bribe the other kid with food! Yay. Luckily, yesterday after our bar adventure, the few of us had found a snug little shop tucked away in one of the alleyways of the marketplace. Or rather, we followed our nose to where it smelled the best, and it led us to the tiny restaurant.

Step one to hopefully competent communication: actually communicate.

"Umm…" I began. Awkwardly. Something please kill me now. Even a goose will do, especially if it was of the Canadian variety because those things are ready to eff shit up. "Do you want to go eat together? We found somewhere nice to eat?" I could feel Dōsukēru's hold on my shoulder give a vice-like squeeze. She wasn't happy with me, I know, and neither was the Uzumaki. And since we're all probably just sad little children in a foreign land, why not bond over food?

The restaurant that we found serves ramen and raw meat. Not together, because even if some people with unique tastes could handle the flavour, they probably wouldn't survive the poisoning or bacteria/fungi/parasitic combination that humans aren't immune to. There were quite of lot of non-humans the last time we were there though, the entire place crowded by furry bodies with muzzles stuck in pots and bowls and two paws on the table.

We actually managed to get Sugiryuu a helping of a live, small-sized rat that he was still digesting the last we saw of him this morning, it now probably being a lump somewhere around his midriff and steadily growing smaller and more rounded as time went by.

Snakes have a very good digestive system that I would never want to see from the inside.

Uzumaki gave me a look, and summoned whatever a kid these days can summon in terms of a facial expression that portrays the emotion of "incredulous".

The best method right now would be to calmly diffuse the situation with reassuring words that Dōsukēru didn't mean what she said and that we could prepare to be friends or something. But that would be lying, and would require more talking than I cared to do so right now.

So I yanked the Uzumaki by the sleeve, and steadily dragged her to the door, the few people left in the classroom giving the three of us horrified looks. Or maybe just the two of us, since they couldn't see Dōsukēru with her being a lump underneath all of my lumpiness. For some reason the Uzumaki actually went with me instead of resisting being dragged along by a kid younger than her and known to her for all of three hours. But whatever reason it was, I was, and still am, grateful.

The teacher nodded at me when I was about to step over the threshold of the classroom, and said "be back before one o'clock." Then he went back to correcting the mound of homework that had taken up a proud residence on his desk. Judging by the lashing about of his chakra, he probably doesn't appreciate being chained down to a teaching position by an injury, no matter how brief it may be.

The hallways were filled with children, a river of flowing chakra lights ranging from fireflies to those candles that people send floating down streams. If I closed my eyes, maybe it could even be imprinted on my eyelids. Every few meters or so, there would be an alcove in the ceiling, or a vent that conveniently housed a burning flare, probably ninja lunch monitors so the kids don't try things that are too stupid. Mild stupidity is occasionally conductive towards learning, but purposeful idiocy digs an early grave.

Nobody cared as I dragged the Uzumaki out the front door and bolted across the grounds, feet skimming the snow and leaving little trails of imprints in the freshly fallen floof. So it snowed more during class time, that's fun. But not very useful towards learning, when all of the kids just want to escape to the outside and nail each other in the head with snowballs.

Like the one that hit the back of my head not a moment later.

Ah well, at least I have a hood on. Or rather, with my current ability of throwing projectiles, the snowball would have better luck finding the nearest trashcan than another kid's face.

Revenge will taste like good, piping hot food once we get to the restaurant and the kids here are chattering their teeth off from the snow that dripped down their shirts and necks and the legs of those unfortunate enough to not have a sturdy pair of pants.

The lunch monitor barely glanced at us as I dragged the Uzumaki off of school bounds, but like our teacher, they also hollered for us to get back before one.

I think the Uzumaki is still confused.

Or maybe not.

She tugged at her hand and I let go, not glancing back but waving for her to follow. The bright spot of her chakra following behind me in my mind's eye lit a smile on my face. Uzumaki are stubborn, but they are also insanely curious, loyal, and ranks nearly as high on the merchant's ranking list in terms of food lovers.

With my hood up and collar nearly obscuring my face, it wasn't hard to just plow on through the noon crowd of the marketplace.

The ANBU presence that trailed purposely obviously after me since leaving the academy tinged with two shades of annoyance and one shade of amusement. So maybe they didn't like snake-kid babysitting duty, but why would we care?

(Or for that wonder, why would we know?)

Weaving around people was fun, especially as it became more and more of a game of tag between the two of us kids. Sometime between sliding under the second food wagon and ducking into an alley, Dōsukēru had also poked her head back out of my collar. Even though she holds grudges quite a bit more than I do, her sense of direction is needed for us to actually find the restaurant, and she also likes the smells that mingle together at such high speeds. While I walked a bit to get my breath back and so Uzumaki can catch sight of me again, I gave my partner a rub on the head. Her scales ever so smooth under my fingers, they were also quite a bit warmer considering my brilliant decision to forget to wear gloves this morning. Blessed stupidity.

"Why did you…?" Dōsukēru asked, her head and tail waving around for emphasis and the non-verbal equivalent of why did I forgive Uzumaki for saying what she did. I tapped at the tail that was incredibly ticklish under the layers, and thought for a sec.

"Because her uncle died far away, she's far away from home, and I think she might be scared that one day, she'll die far, far away and nobody will know until nobody's left to remember." The kid still smelled a bit like the ocean, briney and sharp and variable with the seasons, it couldn't have been long since she was sent to Konoha.

This, Dōsukēru knew as well as I did, but without a bit more context born of experience and years of book-reading, people reading would still be a bit difficult. She'll catch up soon, and sooner or later my partner will become better at talking to humans than the actual human element of our partnership. Honestly, I can't wait.

Sensing the chakra of the Uzumaki behind us, Dōsukēru gave my shoulder another squeeze and promptly turned her snout down the left branch of the alleyway, I grinned.

TEA FOR THE WEARY was the name of the restaurant, and deserved the all caps that couldn't be given to it in Japanese. As compared to the Akimichi owned food district somewhere around another part of the marketplace, this restaurant was quite small, with about six tables of four inside, low-hanging ceiling beams upon which birds and cats perched, and even a deep water filled trench to the side. Maybe it was my imagination, but just for a second I thought I saw a flash of gold, like the fin of a goldfish the size of a large retriever.

Nevermind, it was most definitely not my imagination. The man seated at the table next to the trench leaned over and dropped a morsel of something, and the scariest, most terrifying looking goldfish I have ever had the luck to feast my eyes upon burst out of the water in a spray of droplets, large pitch-black eyes gazing out from somewhere I will hesitantly term the abyss. It snapped the morsal, which my peripheral vision alerted me to as an entire chicken's leg. At least it wasn't an entire chicken, then I might've fled like an Abra after someone, anyone, makes the first move.

Yes, I will somehow teleport my ass out of the restaurant if it meant I could get away from the Goldfish of Horrors™.

By the way the chakra of the Uzumaki was sparking, I was not alone in my horror.

"By the Sage's beard, is that a solar ryukin!?"

Or….not.

This allegiance has died a rapid death, I shall now retreat to a table and order comfort food for my soul. Much mochi will be ingested to compensate for the salt of my tears, and – Dōsukēru owww, what was that for?

I gave my partner a betrayed stare. Her eyes were inches from my own as her tail wrapped around the bento lunch that Uchiha Asuka had packaged for us and I ohhhh.

Whoops.

At least the waitresses were nice enough to let me eat the obviously not-from-here-food here, otherwise my options would've dwindled down from uno to nada. I chewed morosely on my cold rice, running through the cold obviously didn't do the flavour any favors, and apparently enough of the running was similar enough to the parkour that I used to do even as a food delivery part-timer that I forgot the bento tethered to my back. Should muscle memory be blamed when the only thing that followed from Before was my soul?

Eh, food first, think later.

It took a few minutes before the Uzumaki decided to wander over, but this time beaming like someone handed her the world. "That was fun!" She chirped.

I continued chewing on my rice. Damn its hardness. Next time, I'll remember to put the bento in a seal or something before running with it in the middle of winter.

"Thanks!" The Uzumaki smiled, and I blinked. The kid was adorable, and should be protected at all costs, love for monstrous goldfish aside.

At least her temper was better now, that means I can finally ask the question that's been bugging me since we left school grounds. "You're welcome? Umm, I'm very bad with names, so uh, could you please introduce yourself again?"

Cue silence.

Uzumaki Tamiko, whose name was not the Tamaki I thought it was, was the person I believe most likely to bankrupt my wallet. Within minutes of sitting down and ordering, a heap of bowls six deep has already been generated in front of her, numerous dishes aside. She was steadily working her way through her seventh bowl of ramen, this time it being the tonkotsu version, and even Dōsukēru has slowed her swallowing of the defeathered, stuffed pigeon that we ordered.

Unlike the requirements for Sugiryuu, it was completely fine for Dōsukēru to consume nonliving food as long as it provided enough nutritional value. This she takes full advantage of by eating gourmet meals, despite the fact that her taste buds aren't even on her tongue and most of the "taste" part of her food was on the inside of the pigeon, which she won't get to from swallowing it whole.

While the two of them get to eat their fill on the excellent cooking capabilities of the chef, I got to pick my way through the bento that Uchiha-san made for me. If not for the cold, the taste would've been as amazing as what it looked like.

Only time would tell how honest her intentions towards the four of us are, but with the contract that we have already established, I believe that she is one of the few people in the village we can trust. Ironic, really, considering the bar was probably a window for her and her husband to pick up gossip.

Swatting at a speck of soup that landed on my face, I gave the Uzumaki the most annoyed look I could muster, but which she replied to with a searing grin. At least one of us is enjoying lunch.

"Please," I pleaded, "please remember your table manners, otherwise they might not let us back again."

She paused mid slurp, and nodded, the soup from the noodles hanging out of her mouth landing everywhere but on her. Frankly, that included everything of me, Dōsukēru, and even a man and his cat a table over. Uzumaki's face reddened.

At the same incredible speed that she's been eating the rest of her meal, she emptied the mouthful into her gullet and dejectedly muttered a "sorry", face scrunched into a pout. Considering the odd amount of effort she was putting into the pout, I would assume that it would be one of the first times that she's using it to try to get out of a situation like this.

Ugh.

My meal done with, I cleaned up the little area in front of me, and placed my head down on my hands. Last night did not grant me an adequate amount of sleep, even if we want more than long enough tossing and turning and getting up and wandering around. "Wake me when we're paying the bill," I said.

There was a muffled sound of affirmation from Dōsukēru's direction, and nothing but more slurping and a burp from the Uzumaki. Since I dug my grave, I might as well sleep in it. Thankfully it at least smells decent.

I didn't fall asleep, but once again entered that odd, chakra-induced area between sleep, meditation, and some sort of extreme introspection. In other words, opening my non-physical eyes placed me once again on the banks of my mindscape.

Time may or may not pass differently between the mindscape and the outside reality, but it wasn't if I was going to do anything important in my mindscape, or anything that required a particular length of time. Honestly, all I wanted to do was check the apparent money for the dead that was fished up last time, in case it was some sort of hallucination induced by nearly drowning in my own brain.

Since the main types of liquid in the human head are blood, cerebrospinal fluid and mucus, would that mean that drowning in my head involves me drowning in those? It better not be. If the murder pond in my mindscape was an accumulation of any of those three fluids, well. I'll fill up the pond with dirt if its the last things I do.

Like the last time I went in, it was with a sensation of falling, but this time with the abrupt introduction of the ground to my tailbone. Ow.

The copse of trees was waving merily at me in the musical breeze, a jangleing of notes that played up the beautiful end of dissonance. The papers were where I left them, confirmation that it wasn't some sort of hallucination, but a real thing. Or at least as real as something that exists solely in a mind can be.

If an object does not have a physical existence, then is it still an object? Or just a conjuring of will-power/mind-power of something that wants to be real?

…

Nope. I'm not going there. Not when there were bigger problems to be seen to.

Before, I would grow the trees by slowly feeding their root systems the excess ying chakra I had, like they were parasites of the mind. The doctors recommended doing so because it hit the birds of "too much ying chakra" and "grow one's mindscape" at the same time. Apparently the stronger and more elaborate someone's mindscape was, the harder it was to shatter their psych or something via techniques like genjutsu. Apparently.

As it was, feeding the trees that are part of my metaphorical existence more of my chakra, which is part of my actual, physical existence, actually helps balance it out. If part of myself was "eating" another part of myself, it doesn't count as cannibalism, right?

So I sat where I fell, and just listened to the breeze as it generated a tune in the trees. Sometimes just sitting down and taking a deep breath is all it takes to clear my mind, which unfortunately didn't work this time.

Grabbing a fistful of grass, I tore it out of the turf and chucked it in the general direction of the pond. As grass wasn't the most aerodynamic of projectiles, it fluttered weakly a few times before coming back to rest at my feet. Blowing at it didn't improve its distance at all, the stalks just trembled a bit as if holding back laughter at the lame attempts.

If deep breathing doesn't work, then perhaps something with more action would.

At least, that was the theory. The theory works on the basis that I get up and do something, but honestly, there wasn't enough energy in my body. Or maybe it was just procrastination. Cue screaming over the dead-water pond.

Screaming is quite the therapeutic exercise, especially when one does not want to use the effort to do anything else. Screaming for long periods of time, however, has the added side-effect of sore throat and weird side-glances from nearby civilization. Thank gods I'm not close to nearby civilization, then.

As had been proven the time I nearly drowned, taking a breath to interrupt the screaming was necessary. But by then I was nearly fine, and could function enough to waddle over crab-walk style to nurture some trees with chakra. They didn't grow visibly, they never do, but I like to imagine that their leaves waved around in a more friendly manner and the dissonance of the wind is a bit nicer. As an added bonus, crab-waddling got me close enough to one of the pieces of paper that I left around last time, so I picked it up and tried examining it for clues.

Whether said clues were for approving or disproving the hypothesis that was also thought up last time was another matter.

Apparently the piece of paper was one of the ones that didn't completely dry out the time I nearly drowned in my head. Instead of the fake money that most of the other crumpled messes revealed themselves as, it was a larger piece of paper that looked like a page. Of a book.

Um.

It's page 96?

If one page is here, then where's the rest? I stared blankly in the direction of the mass of paper mache somewhere in the murder pond. Honestly, joking that I would die for a decent source of reading material didn't mean that I actually would. The temptation was certainly quite strong though.

Really strong.

Fuck it. Imma gonna go look for bo–

"–Suijami!"

"I'm awake!" I yelped, head banging into the pile of bowls that had accumulated into a daunting presence through sheer girth alone. Quick reflexes from the nearby waitress saved the pile of ceramic, but it most definitely didn't save my wallet.

"That will be a total of 3145 ryo please, cash is the only accepted form of payment at this restaurant." The waitress said, a small smile on her face. Methinks her chakra seemed to be hiding some sort of unholy cackling, but that might be bias.

After literally coughing up a million ryo yesterday, we have learned our lesson and now keep an actual wallet on us at all times. Mine I had tucked into the inside jacket pocket, while Oro did the same. The snake's kept theirs in one of the sealing tats on the inside.

Uzumaki's eyes grew stars when I forked over the little stack of notes, and it meant that I either gained a loyal minion forever, or she gained a mobile wallet labelled Kinme.

We really need to find Senju Tsunade so we can make bets and win money off her, otherwise people are going to get suspicions with the amount of cash we have on hand.

"It's ten-to-one," Dōsukēru said, answering the question that hung between us. Which, frick. Where did the time go?

For some reason Uzumaki Tamiki found that more horrifying then the two of us, and we had a reverse of the situation coming here, with her dragging the two of us along so quickly lift-off may be possible. The day we can all ninja-run across rooftops will be the day that temporary lift-off is possible, so hopefully, soon.

The marketplace was even more crowded then when we came through earlier, and by the time we arrived in the classroom, everyone else was already seated and the clock indicated only seconds to spare. Some of the other children seemed disappointed that we were on time.

Immediately after the noon bell tolled, the teacher poofed into the classroom, replacing a cushion that was on his chair. A minute and twenty seconds later, he had completed attendance and started to herd the lot of us out the door. I followed tightly behind Uzumaki who shot me a confused glance, probably because the only aspect of personality that I've actively shown so far was drag her halfway through the village to eat and pay for her food. I also didn't look at anyone as we filed out and to the school gym, but chakra senses on full blast gave me the minimal information that was needed for unneeded collisions.

We took a few detours, briefly was outside, then down through a shed masquerading as a staircase down to hell. I mean gym. Makes sense, it's freezing cold outside and we were...supposed to be… throwing shuriken…

Imma screwed.

My classmates weren't first years either. In fact, they were probably a mixture of all years other than first years, so they all had some adequacy in this area of ninja arts.

So–

Imma gonna cry.

The gym had a really high ceiling, which could be predicted by the staircase that seemed to go on forever, but the dimensions of it was quite remarkable. As in it-could-fit-the-market-district-in-it remarkable.

"Is this an emergency bunker for civilians?" Dōsukēru wondered.

Uzumaki heard my partner but didn't deign to answer so I ended up asking it again. Honestly, those two.

"This is a retreat for academy students, some civilians that are in the area, and the workers in the Hokage tower that can't fight," she said. Then teacher hushed us from the front and we shut up til we reached the targets.

For the forty-something odd kids in the class, there was a grand total of fifteen wooden posts, each three meters away from the next one in line, as targets. The more advanced classes were in other areas of the underground gym, practicing on actual targets and training dummies, apparently none of us were good enough to warrant such a use of resource yet.

Two or three of us were allocated to each target, but the teacher took me aside (dragged me away from Uzumaki) to an unoccupied target to check my skill. Needless to say, he was horrifically disappointed. In the time that I didn't get to practice my already atrocious throwing skills, it had decided that it wasn't needed anymore and went AWOL.

Out of tht fifty shuriken that was handed to me, only four actually managed to hit the target. One of them was out of anger, one was bewilderment, one was… just a random lucky throw, and the last one was because I was startled into throwing before I was ready. Whoops.

The snake tucked away in my jacket wasn't any help either, only laughing when I missed and keeping a tally of how the other kids were doing.

"That black-haired kid only missed one so far!" She said, aware that nearly half of the class were black-haired.

"The kid with a puppy tossed a bullseye with his eyes closed!"

"Holy shit, the civies are competing and all have a tied of eighty percent accuracy so far!" Cry, I shall.

Just as I was about to reach for my fifty-first shuriken, the teacher sighed and waved for me to stop.

"206 brats listen up! We are now switching to kunai, so one person from each group place your shurikens back on the rac– I said place Ryoma not throw–, one person from each post go get the shuriken off of the post, and whoever is left or went to place – yes Ryoma I'm looking at you– the shuriken back can get the braces of kunai." As the kids scrambled to follow his instructions, dear ol teach pulled out a brace of kunai from somewhere that might as well be thin air and handed it to me.

Then he remembered something and hollered: "Brats, only the braces from cabinet fourteen, if any of you decide to show off with those from cabinet twelve, I will suspend you."

Dōsukēru was snickering inside my collar, I'm sure of it.

With eyes dead as a someone who has glimpsed salvation and was dragged back to hell kicking and screaming, he said to me in monotone: "this is what I have to deal with. Every single damn day. Sage's balls."

Ummm. He realizes that I'm still only six right? And just because I haven't been talking for the first few hours of the day didn't mean that I won't talk later on?

The poor teacher sighed again, and clasped his fingers into a handseal. The chakra in his body flowed through multiple different directions and areas before condensing at his fingertips. It barely even took a blink before a cup of conveniently placed water was drained and attached to his finger like a whip. Said whip proceeded to capture every single ninja star that I threw in the past few moments of my life and collect it in a pile beneath his feet.

"Now, let's see your kunai skills."

AN: NaNoWriMo is going to be the death of me. I am almost 6000 words behind, blargh. And there's a critical essay to write, due next week.

Anyways, hopefully this chapter is still ok, but at this point I can't even edit anymore!

not-so-fun fact of the day: I was in my first car accident today, whoopeedoodleyay. Thank gods it was minor and no one got hurt, and it wasn't even my fault. (It's why this chap was late.)

Anyways, thanks to everyone who reviewed last chap, give me a sec and I'll get around to replying, and thanks again!

Hope ya'll enjoyed the chapter, if there's something off point it out and I'll fix it on my next way through.

Please leave a review on the way out, and thanks for reading!

~Cadriona Morningwing

Uploaded: November 14, 2018