(Edited: 07/19/2021)
(Edited: 08/21/2020)
A/N:
HAH! I BET YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS A VERY LATE APRIL FOOLS.
There have been a few small changes and edits to the past chapters, and an important question at the end of chapter 5 I will re-ask at the end of this chapter. Also, don't mind any activity in the next couple of days as I will be going back (yet again) just to edit the story's mistakes in order for it to read and flow better. Enjoy!
Chapter 6: Floors and New Doors
Jemma's unoccupied hand tapped light, nonsensical rhythms on the dining table. She eyed the two cards before her. Not good... With quick, practiced movements, what would have been a losing hand became but a memory.
Across from her, her mom pursed her lips in concentration, ignorant to the swift edging to her defeat.
Around them, the sweet smell of baked goods—mostly cupcakes—mixed deliciously with the aroma of coffee that sat hot in their mugs. The combination swirled into the air, creating the comforting scent that permanently hung around the Walker home.
They were bakers, after all, so it was only fitting that their home smelt just as wonderful as the attached shop.
Tomorrow was Fran's birthday, one of their frequent customers' daughter. She had ordered over three hundred cupcakes for the joyous occasion. A large order, but her mother had accepted, preaching about the importance of return customers and their influence on the business.
The rest of the pastries in the ovens were meant for restocking the bakery, something they partook in every night.
To pass the time, they played poker. They sat across from each other, silent and watchful, faces set carefully blank.
"Raise." Jemma announced, throwing in a few more chips to the pot.
"Call." Her mom replied immediately, adding in her own and flipping the last card—A Queen of Diamonds.
Their eyes met for a brief moment before they showed their hands. There was a tense moment before her mother drooped in her seat with a hissed "Dammit." The older woman rubbed a weary hand down her face, glaring between her fingers. "I regret ever teaching you how to cheat."
Jemma huffed, stacking her winning chips in the correct piles, not even trying to hide the immense satisfaction she felt in beating her mom. "And the student surpasses the master." She teased, cracking a small smirk.
The sound of a phone notification ping came from the teenager's pocket, making the girl instantaneously perk up. As Jemma smiled at the screen, her mother watched with analyzing hazel eyes; hands deftly shuffled their well-worn playing deck.
Once done replying to the text, Jemma stood with her mug and walked to the coffee machine, humming happily to herself.
One of the many benefits of co-owning a bakery was the delicious, expensive blends of coffee they kept on hand. With bitter notes of cocoa and the sweetness of vanilla, her caffeine addiction was always well fed.
Juliette, her mother, continued to watch the teenager flaunt about the kitchen like a careless butterfly, gaze slowly turning scrutinizing.
"…Soooo. What's his name?" her mother droned, boredom lacing her drawn out vowels.
Jemma jumped up from behind the opened refrigerator, cheeks blazing red. "Mom!" she whined.
Her mother put the deck down and rested a dainty hand under her chin, shrugging nonchalantly. "What? You've been acting all 'Disney Princess' lately. I'm concerned."
With a loud groan, Jemma threw the door closed with a rattle and crouched to the ground, covering her reddening face. Her mother simply stared at her, unrelenting.
"…Samuel." the teen gave in.
"I knew it!"
Jemma shrunk even further. "Please don't make a big deal about this-"
Her pleas went unheard as her mother cut her off. "When will I get to meet this young man? It's not every day my shut-in of a daughter takes interest in something as frivolous as boys."
'Hopefully never.' Jemma thought bitterly to herself.
Already she could imagine the headlines of the local newspaper now: "Florida Mother Goes on Rampage after Finding out Daughter Is Secretly Dating Older Man!" They would be the talk of the town for sure.
No, Jemma would take the fact Sam was fifteen years her senior to her grave, thank you. The last thing she needed was her mom pressing charges against him. It would be humiliating, for both Sam and herself.
She would never be able to see or talk to him again. The thought was just too painful.
It wasn't as if it was her fault she fell for someone much older than herself. Boys her age weren't mature enough. They were only interested in sex. And that wasn't even taking into consideration guys had absolutely no interest in her, either.
Sam wasn't like that. He was a gentleman. Poised, kind and interested in the same things Jemma was. They could stay up all night talking about books, the stars or their future together.
He would go on long tangents about how beautiful she was, and how much she meant to him. Sometimes they even talked about running away to Vegas and getting married.
No, she never wanted her mother to know. She just wouldn't understand.
I sat across from Papa, my short legs crossed and hands resting lightly over my knees.
My butt hurt from the sustained position.
We had been sitting still for thirty minutes. The only sound disturbing the stillness in the air was the slow, even breaths coming from us.
A strained tension floated between us, simmering fully of expectations and overwhelming suspense. It was driving me insane.
How was I supposed to concentrate when he was practically buzzing in place with anticipation? The fatherly hope in his sparkling blue eyes was enough to slowly crush me under the pressure.
'What if's' pelted at my ego like minuscule droplets of acid, burning through my inner fears and releasing them inside of my crowded brain. I dreaded I would never amount to my parents' high expectations.
Sure, my body was capable of becoming a ninja, but the fact stood I was nothing more than a baker from Florida.
I missed my mom, but as it was, the red-head was on an in-village mission. Busy running messages around and saving the world—normal jinjuriki shit, I guessed.
Seemed like a complete waste of a powerful resource when we were on the cusp of peace, but who was I to complain? If it kept my loved ones close and relatively safe (nowhere in this word was completely safe, I knew).
If I were able to, I would put stuff them all in a bubble and hide them in a basement for the rest of our lives—or until someone found out and threw me in jail. Whichever came first.
Sine dad, and what was left of his 'genin' team (Kakashi was jounin and Rin chunin), were down a member (he was gonegoneGONE—how could he leave me?) they were unable to go on missions for a short period.
The fact the teens never visited hung heavy on my father's shoulders.
Minato had taken the day off which was…strange, to say the least. It was shocking in itself that he was able to do so, so easily considering he was soon to be Hokage, but I was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Unless it had a heartbeat, that is.
Nevertheless, I soaked up his attention like a dried-up sponge that had spent years in Suna's desert—if The Village Hidden in the Sand even had sponges.
Sponges required large bodies of water since they were, technically, a living aquatic animal—and wasn't that just a lovely thought? Using the re-hydrated corpse of a once-living creature to wash your body.
That would be akin to scrubbing one's ass with a dehydrated bunny-rabbit. Anything for the sake of smooth skin. Regardless, no one in Water traded with Suna, so the possibility of them having tons of sponges was be null and void.
Okay, I was getting off topic, once again. That was happening a lot lately.
I peeked open an inquisitive eye and was shocked to see Papa looking right back. Quick to close my eyes again, I straightened my spine and held my breath.
Maybe he didn't notice?
Possibly being caught was enough to get me submerged back into my task with renewed vigor, even as I felt a blush creep onto my cheeks.
Minato had been observing me with such fatherly fondness, it transcended beyond any physical plane. I could feel his love like a living thing; a weighted blanket that helped brush away my many anxieties.
His presence was calm, assuring and warm. It made me feel safe. As if no one could touch me.
The straggling part of me that was still 'Jemma' wondered if this would have been what her own father would have been like had he not died.
I doubted it.
The people of this world, I noticed, could love (and hate) on a completely different level than that of my old life. It wasn't something I could easily put into words. When felt, it was like all of the rushing, roaring thoughts un my head were silenced.
It was magnificently addicting. Not the temporary fix one could acquire with drugs.
Being around my loved ones brought me to levels of joy and strength I never had in the Before.
The love I felt here was more. It felt sentient.
"Wildfire,"
Papa's soft voice eased me out of meditation, but I could tell simply by his tone he didn't want me completely out of the tranquil state I had reached, just to open my ears and listen.
Minato was teaching me 'deep meditation' as a way to, in his words: 'reach inner enlightenment with the chakra around us.' Whatever he meant by that.
I was enlightened as fuck, okay? Only I had literally died and been reincarnated. If anything, I should have been the one teaching him.
The exercise we were doing was to teach me to reach deep inside of myself until I wasn't a physical being. Instead, I became nothing more than a tiny, dark-red orb floating alone in a sea of darkness.
The orb was vibrant and alive, just as I remembered it. Flamed flickering on a nonexistent breeze, hints of blue and white weaving tiny threads through the red.
When I had reached this stage the third (twenty-third) time meditating, I had been terrified by seeing the thing that had doomed me to this world. So much so, I had dropped the state of mind I had reached as if it had physically burned.
It took weeks afterwards to grapple against that fear, accept it and move on.
Thankfully, finding it that one time made it marginally easier to find again.
Imagine my surprise when Papa told my what I had witnessed was my chakra. Kushina had taught me how to move chakra to different points of my body, but Minato showed me how to reach down to the source.
It made me ponder on whether chakra was nothing more than a manifestation of the soul.
Did using it deplete a person's life force, and that was why chakra overuse could kill? Or were they separate things? Was a soul able to replenish itself and grow?
All those questions and no one held the answers.
Minato spoke again in words I could mimic perfectly for how many times he'd said them, "Place your palm on the floor and concentrate. Open your mind's eye and feel the world around you.
Welcome it, but do not let yourself be overcome by it. You are always in control of what you allow to filter though… good. Now reach out and try to feel my chakra."
I nodded dutifully, listening to his instructions intently. With a deep, centering breath, I did as told and… felt nothing.
I tried not to be annoyed but it was so hard not to. We had been doing the same thing for weeks with no luck. It was like hitting a steel wall over and over again with the same outcome: failure.
A loud sigh escaped me as I opened my eyes, overwhelmed with irritation. "It's just not working!"
Minato looked at me with a sideways smile, not minding the small outburst. "You can't expect to overcome everything the first time you do it, Wildfire. Things like this take time. Years even."
My arms crossed as I curled into myself, turning my head so I would have to look at him. I fought the urge to snap back that this wasn't the first time I had tried, and how he had been even younger when he was able to hone his sensing skills.
Prodigies, am I right?
It was hard to keep in my screams of how time was one of the things I wasn't awarded in this life.
Instead, I gave the sky outside of the window a particularly heated glare. I just knew Minato was disappointed in me. How could he not be?
Sensing came to him so easily and I was his daughter. Half of his genetic code was inside of me. In this world, that meant something. Genetics were so strong there were literally clans fully of similar looking people with similar working abilities!
So why did I have to have so much of an issue with it?
Was the only thing I was able to inherit from my dad his fucking hair texture? My own hair was a shade lighter, and if I didn't know any better, I would've been convinced I was part Yamanaka.
Minato reached over and placed a hand on my head, gaining my attention once again. His eyes were soft, "Come on, let's try again." He encouraged, ruffling my hair into a mess. It was crazy enough without him doing that.
"What's the point?" I grumbled, swatting his hand away. The ninja caught the appendage easily, encasing it within his warm one, and pulled me easily into his lap.
My anger fell, but not entirely.
Minato hummed, chin resting on my head and arms wrapping securely around my middle. "If you try again… I'll get you that sewing kit you've been eyeing this past month." He proposed lightly, voice overly casual as he bribed me.
He pet my hair again, this time attempting to run his fingers through the tangles of his own creation. It tugged at my scalp but made me melt against him regardless.
Hmm. So, he was going to stoop so low as to bribe me into doing what he wanted? Hah, he didn't know who he was messing with.
Purposefully making my voice small and hesitant, I added onto the list—if I was going to be manipulated, I may as will milk that heifer. "A-and some fabrics along with a crochet set...?"
Papa's voice was colored in surprise. "A crochet set, too? Isn't that a bit much?"
I turned in his lap, lip poking out, "You can't have one without the other." The words fell from my lips in the matter-of-fact tone of a child, "That's like getting kunai without shuriken. Polish without a polishing rag."
He didn't look convinced.
"I'll start meditating every day, too…" I tacked on, voice trailing off at the end. (I would regret that promise later. I could just feel it.)
Eyes the color of the sky sparkled with amusement.
Guess being manipulative as a prospective ninja was considered a good thing—for the most part.
I held no notion that had I been trying to get out of something like chores or a punishment; this conversation would have gone an entirely different rout.
One that would have my standing with my nose in a corner while doing a handstand.
"Alright," he agreed, "I'll hold you to that. Now, close your eyes…"
I obeyed, eager to please and ecstatic at the prospect of gifts, and fell into the soothing comfort of my chakra like an old friend. When I was aware of the chakra coiled in my stomach, I took a short moment to stare at it in awe.
After getting over my fear, seeing the manifestation of life in this world was exhilarating. It mattered not how many times I bore witness to it.
It vibrated with energy along with me, excited about learning and the hope of making my father proud.
I noted absently that Papa had taken my hand in his, moving it to rest on the floor, his own resting on mine. "When I tell you to, feel out with your chakra."
My hand tingled under his larger one. Followed by the swift feeling of my guts rising that almost took my breath away.
It was as if I was sinking into the floor. What felt like tiny needles spread out of my palm and dug deep into the ground, passing through the hardwood and deep into the dirt.
Down, down, down it went, like a rabbit trotting through its burrow.
Then, like a wave, the sensation swiftly moved outward.
"Go ahead."
I did as instructed and audibly gasped.
It was beautiful.
All around, what seemed to be thousands if lights twinkled in varying ranges of colors, sizes and brightness. As it was, I couldn't focus on any single one, just a bigger, beautiful picture.
And gods, was it breathtaking. Exhilarating. Like seeing a galaxy in my old world.
Certainly not as big, but just the glance brought fresh tears into my eyes.
I held onto that feeling. Warm. Fuzzy. Breezy. Light. And around her, love.
It was extraordinary.
Just as quickly as it happened, it ended. I sat there for a moment longer, basking in the afterglow of what occurred. I felt…indestructible.
"I was hoping that would work." Minato boasted, sounding so satisfied in himself that I almost rolled my eyes.
Leave it to him to try something without knowing if it would actually work or not.
"That was...amazing." I began, opening my eyes and staring at my hand in awe, "There were so many I could sense! Is it always like that?" I turned to my dad, expectant and grinning ear-to-ear.
The future Hokage stood, my body still secured in his arms, and walked to a picture hanging on the wall. It was a map—a drawing, really—of the village we had hanging in the house.
(Don't even ask how he managed to acquire that. Cameras were extremely pricy, along with the cost of prints, but actual artwork? And one of this caliber? It must have cost a small fortune.)
"It is amazing, isn't it?" he hummed, voice taking on the same mesmerized tone as my own. "What you witnessed was only a small portion of the village—your coils are too inexperienced to withstand being shown everything—but one day you will be able to do it on your own."
I nodded slowly, head resting on his collarbone. He smelt of bonfires and new parchment.
Listening to Minato babble on about anything was therapeutic in many ways. He was so passionate about whatever he spoke of, his deep melodic voice welcoming.
"Mhm. So pretty…" my head spun. Man. Was I this sleepy before?
Papa made a noise of agreement. "There is so much life and beauty in this village—no, in this world! Things you couldn't even begin to imagine. It's what I wish to protect.
Being a sensor is not only an advantage as a ninja, buts a special connection to the world around you. Having the ability to see pure energy and life, being connected with it even for a moment…" he paused, letting out a breath of bliss.
He continued, "We're all connected, Wildfire. Not by fate or some mystical being, but by what's in here." A soft poke on her belly where her chakra gathered made her giggle, "Chakra connects us all as living beings, while friendship and love bring us together as family. That was how this village came into being."
I yawned, not from boredom, but from the bone-deep tiredness crawling into my marrow. "Is that why you wanna be Hokage?"
A chuckle came from deep within his chest that reverberated against me, "That's one of the reasons, yes."
"Then what's the main reason?"
There was a pause. A heaviness filed the air. "I was born to a cruel world, darling. My father—your grandfather—was a very proud and powerful shinobi from our Clan; known for their intuitive minds, speed, agility and stealth.
Their lifespans were not known to be lengthy, since many worked as assassins. Alongside them were the scholars who traveled the world to learn rare techniques, hoarding them in order to strengthen us. Others were doctors, like my mother."
Minato paused, eyes taking on a faraway look as if brought back in time to a different place.
"Your grandfather was there for me as long as he could have been, and by the time our Clan settled down in Konoha, he passed. It was here I learned the meaning of The Will of Fire, and I knew in my heart that I was born with it."
His eyes sharpened back to normal as he looked down at me. He cracked a fond smile, "It didn't matter that Konoha wasn't my birthplace. The people here accepted me, though reluctant at first.
They encouraged me and gave me the tools in order to uphold their Will; to protect those I love and draw strength from them in times of darkness."
Just like the darkness pulling me down sleeps rabbit hole and into endless nightmares I refused to acknowledge.
With the poetic words of my father echoing in my ears, I slipped off into oblivion.
"'The fire's shadow illuminates the village.'"
"You're going to be a big sister, 'ttebane!" mom announced happily, clapping her hands together. Papa sat next to her on the couch with his arm wrapped around her, a proud smile splitting his face, blue eyes sparkling.
My world came to a screeching halt.
Naruto was coming.
Kushina was two months pregnant, which meant there were only eight seldom months before they would die.
I would be alone.
I was running out of time.
("Why wasn't I given more time?")
They would leave me to this world as an orphan—a fucking Uzumaki orphan. The Fourth Hokage's orphan. People would come after me just for who my dad was and try to hurt me.
Most people already knew who I was—no matter how much they'd tried hiding me away after I was nearly killed.
The nice man at the bakery, the Uchiha clan, Kushina and Minato's teammates and friends—important people knew I existed.
This had to be why they kept Naruto's true parentage secret in the show, since it would put a metaphorical bullseye on his back. At least, that was what I thought would happen. My racing thoughts were nothing more than speculation.
Regardless, I would not have that sort of luxury. My existence was known. I was going to die—
(Ineedmoretime)
—They were both looking at me, worry furrowing their brow—
It was stupid to become so attached to these people. These characters that have changed the very meaning of my existence. Who have given me nothing short of unconditional love as I sat upon my throne of lies.
Will I be able to keep my baby brother safe?
That thought alone gave me pause… Clarity slowly breached through the thick fog of deathdeathdeath—
That was right. I would be a sister. A real sister… I never had a sibling before. This was… This was great, right? I could help Naruto as he grew. Let him know he was loved and wanted, even if it is from only one person.
I couldn't be selfish. Not with him.
No. I would cherish him above all, and always be there for him. My parents may vanish like a phantom in the night; but Naruto would need me.
Then I snapped back, realizing I had been still for far too long. Minato and Kushina's smiles bordered on strained.
I beamed at my parents and jumped in their arms with the delighted squeal I knew they expected of me. (I fought the bile rising up my throat at the thought that I was holding corpses—because that was what they were, weren't they? Walking carcasses awaiting decay.)
Becoming Akira had crafted me into a formidable liar. My best work being all of the lies I told myself (number one being that I was okay with the death that was to come.)
All of this was nothing more than a secondary role in my mind; it made it easier to deal with.
All of the bad thoughts, feelings and knowledge were pushed down, down, down…
They disappeared into the cold void of my metaphorical chain-locked box.
The world was less bright.
END
A/N: This chapter was originally longer-like 11,000 words longer, but I decided to split it up.
Thank you so much for the continued support! Most of you don't leave reviews, but that's okay. The story is only getting started and I am aware of the fact im not the best author ever. Your follows, favorites and reviews fuel my love for this story!