When she was sure that everyone was snoring in their beds and dreaming, Miya got up from under her covers and left her room barefoot, least the sound of her shoes hitting the floor would wake-up somebody thus result in her plan failing. It didn't matter that she knew every inch of the palace; her knowledge told her nothing of where Hashirama was having his beauty sleep right now. Fighting the childish urge to stomp her feet in annoyance, she kept walking, not bothered by the dark. It fascinated her, more than the light ever will and she took pride in the fact that her sister feared the one thing that Miya embraced wholeheartedly.

Mito had never succeeded to conquer that fear even after she tried helping her. They had fought and while it could be argued that it had been her fault for scaring her, how was she supposed to get over it by candles lighten up at all times? It was only logical but her sister had refused to hear any of it. Miya had pulled out the candles in her room one night without approval, thinking that would help.

It didn't. Their kaa-san had grounded her for a week.

It was then she had decided that would be the last time she tried helping Mito.

Although she had to admit, at least to herself, that it took her all not to protest and take her side when their parents announced she will be given to become a wife a few years from now to a man she did not love for the sake of politics. She doubted anything she said was going to change their minds. So, Miya had kept quiet for once. She was glad it wasn't her stuck in an arranged marriage since she had other plans, bigger and more glorious than parading around in a dress all day, willing to obey and do anything to please everyone.

It would drive me crazy.

Now she knew that what she was planning to do would be qualified as cheating but weren't shinobi masters of deceit? It was only fair that she played by their rules if some day she hoped to join their cause. Besides, she was really curious to discover who was that boy who helped her and while she had hope that he was going to win every battle he faced, Miya decided that fate was cruel and if he never came back, then she wouldn't even know who she was supposed to mourn.

A name. That's all she needed. Even just a family name. So, she'd know whose side he had fought for and against.

Not that it matters, because supposed foe or not, he didn't hurt me and I have no reason to stop treating him like a human being, even if he is out there fighting against my kin.

A sigh went past her lips as she stopped walking, lowering herself down on the cold marble floor as she hugged her knees together. Maybe Katsu-sensei was right, maybe her idealism that they are all equals was going to get her killed one day. But until that day comes, I will continue to hold onto my beliefs. Wrong or not. Miya thought, fingers clasping the material of her nightgown. She had to stop moping around and keep looking.

Standing up, she couldn't help but think how much easier this would have been if she had learned how to sense people's chakra and make abstraction. Sure, she could sense the life force of people and make distinction between the Senju and the Uzumaki. Ours is warm, like sunshine. Theirs is like the feel of grass on bare feet. Or touching the bark of a tree. Strong yet assuring.

She had to admit that she liked all the vibes she had been getting but which one was Hashirama's?

As if she had suddenly remembered a very important piece of information, Miya started pressing her ears to every door and when she heard really loud snoring, that's when she grinned in triumph and stepped inside. Granted the fact that the banquet had left most of the Senju very cheerful and with no idea if there was an earthquake or the room was simply spinning, her tou-chan decided that they could use their many guest rooms and stay in The Land of Whirlpools for one more night and those who didn't have noble blood could make camp outside the palace.

True to her assumption, Ryuji had spoken the truth about Hashirama's loud snoring habits earlier that day and it seemed that complaining got him another room, safe from his brother's tiresome tendencies. Which was perfectly fine with her. She dreaded having to explain herself to more than one person. "Psst, Lord Senju!" she half whispered-half screamed, crouching besides his bedside, gently shaking his shoulder.

After a minute of doing so with no results, the redhead decided that Ryuji should have also mentioned that his younger brother slept like a bear. Ignorant of his surroundings. How is he going to survive going to war? I hope pretty boy is more of a light sleeper than this guy is.

And since she couldn't speak any louder because she'd risk waking-up the more experienced, self-aware shinboi, Miya took away his pillow.

Nothing.

Then she took away his covers.

Still nothing.

After that she had gone to search for a rat but future ninja or not, there were some things that shouldn't be touched even by the bravest of warriors so she had dropped the creature as quickly as she had caught it, returning to Hashirama's chambers with a defeated expression marring her face. That didn't mean she and Mito were alike, nope, not even slightly. Well, except the way we look but even that is different!

Dropping her common sense out of the window, Miya pinched his cheeks. Hard.

And that's when he woke-up with a startle. Hair completely out of place, brown eyes widened and what she didn't expect but still caught...the kunai he would have pointed at her neck.

"Kami you are slow. And being slow gets you killed. I've been trying to wake you up for so long datteryu!"

Hashirama blinked, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes before doing a double-check and she swore he would have erupted in that loud voice of his if she hadn't placed her hand on top of his mouth.

"No, I'm not the enemy and yes I'm Miya, not Mito. I need your help."

"I was going to apologize for..."

The redhead handed him back his kunai, getting off the bed with a hmph. "Well I suppose you are lucky that I react quickly. Anyway, out of the bed Hashirama-chan."

"What? Why? It's the middle of the night. Going out wouldn't be appropriate..."

He is cute, I have to give him that.

"I sneaked into your room in a nightgown despite you and my sister being promised to each other. I think we have already walked all over what is deemed appropriate, don't ya think?" she questioned sarcastically, giving him a pointed look.

He considered what she said for a few moments before he nodded, then as if realizing their predicament, adverted his eyes and if there had been some light in the room, Miya'd bet her jewels that he was blushing.

He is lucky women aren't allowed to fight yet.

"Take this! And wait outside for a second."

Smiling a little when he seemed to have regained his composure, she walked out then placed the cape over her shoulders, making a knot before placing the hood over her head. When Hashirama came out in a similar attire, Miya took his arm and more or less dragged him outside in her garden. The fourth son sat down on one of the rocks, yawning before breaking the silence. "What is it that couldn't have waited until tomorrow?"

"You are leaving tomorrow. We wouldn't be able to get a few minutes alone then." she explained calmly, though her body refused to stand still. She began pacing. "Your family has gathered intel on all of your enemies, correct?"

Hashirama not yet aware of what was her deal, nodded, urging her to go on.

"And you have information on all of your allies too, yes?"

Again, he nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

Miya, a little more relieved now that she knew she had been right to think of this, stopped pacing and turned to face him. "I hate knowing nothing of what happens out there, Hashirama and nobody tells me anything, making up one excuse or another. 'A lady shouldn't concern herself with death and blood' 'Women are too weak to handle the war or the knowledge of it.' I'm sick and tired and I want to know. Who I have to watch out for and who protects my clan during these times." she paused, purple eyes looking at him pleadingly. "But you are a boy so they tell you things I can't even hope to hear. Do you follow?"

Hashirama knew what she wanted, he'd be a fool not to and besides, he'd do anything to help his friends even if that meant going against what his father had taught him. "What do you want to know?"

"Preferably? Everything but that will take more time to spare than just a few hours. So, for now, just tell me how do the Uchiha and the clans that side with them in the war look. Do they have some common traits? Like, us Uzumaki being born with red hair?"

Miya tried to block out everybody as she passed by. The servants, the nobles, all of them seemed to have nothing better to do than talk. She usually didn't mind hearing their voices, it was her sister who disliked their loud chatter. She couldn't remember when something that used to cheer her up had turned into torture. Like the painful sound a door makes when it needs repairing.

When they weren't talking about the war, they were talking about their newest interest and if once upon a time she would have enjoyed the attention, now Miya curses the day she prayed to receive it. The constant whisperings, the seemingly innocent questions, the stares, all of it was driving her insane and she wished they'd leave her be.

And then she wondered what the fuck was their problem? What do they care about how she spends her free time? They had never looked at her twice before, unless it was with disapproval, disgust, or both mirroring their faces. She had learned to accept that because frankly, she knew she was different, different from Mito, from their version of perfection. Sure, it sucked in the beginning and it hurt.

Because why was her sister considered perfect and not her?

It took her some time to understand that the universe must have played a sick joke on both her and her tou-chan who got his son, but not in the way he had wanted. Her stitches were half-decent on a good day and horrible on her worst, she saw pretty dresses as things that got in the way of her training and she could care less if her writing looked like it had been done by her left foot.

She liked talking with all kinds of people, from kitchen boys to fat lords, her attention span towards anything that wasn't Maki-dono's special dango or shinobi training was really small and fickle and irritable to her teachers that constantly complained and complained and then she'd say some pretty words out of a textbook, insincere and just for their sake because her tou-chan couldn't really get mad at her and her mother was getting more and more easier to ignore as she grew older and all would be forgiven and forgotten. Then again, she'd do something dumb (exciting and adventurous and so much better than listening to old hags), like skipping her lessons to go horse riding or swimming in a nearby lake. Or something even more foolish (fun) like pranking them or mocking them and they'd complain again. Thus, the cycle never ended.

Before.

That was before I met him and realized just how weak I am.

"I'm telling you, she is probably trying to trick us with this obedient act of hers."

"Yeah, I think you are right Akira-san, I mean, she is as wild as a hurricane."

"Or a wild boar."

"Or that."

"It's almost scary. Not only had she stopped skipping her lessons but look, she reads all the time now!"

"Maybe she is..."

The redhead snapped her book shut. She couldn't take it anymore and if being direct and harsh was going to grant her some peace and quiet, then she won't be feeling any guilt for doing the exact opposite of what a lady should.

That's how she was.

Wild but not a boar.

A dragon.

And it was about time she let them know it too.

"She, is within earshot or besides being fools, have you become blind as well? Is gossip the only thing you people are capable of? Tou-sama and your husbands, brothers, fathers are out there, fighting to keep us safe, to ensure that we have the comfort and luxury they lack. They could be freezing and starving or bleeding but it's okay as long as they know we are alright, sheltered. Instead of sticking your lazy bums in tight dresses and complaining all day long about small things, why don't you go do something useful? Like taking care of your children instead of leaving other women to do your job, or learning who they are up against or, HOW ABOUT YOU GROW SOME BALLS, LEARN TO FIGHT, AND GO OUT THERE?! Wild I may be, but at least I'm not the walking dead. Kami-sama forgive me for saying this but some part of me wishes they lose and this palace drops on your heads. Maybe you'd wake-up then."

At the end of her angry outburst, Miya was at least half as surprised as the women and girls standing with their jaws touching the floor in front of her. Surprised? Yes. Guilty?

No.

They deserved to hear it.

And it didn't seem like her mother planned on doing that any time soon. She had little to no doubts that her little display of insolence and rude behaviour won't reach her lady mother. Or at least Mito and between the two of them, she had never been able to decide whose lecture was worse. Not that it mattered. She said what she had to say and she had never been one to run away from facing the consequences, which were never too dire. All the more reasons for me to continue doing as I please.

Miya left the halls, ignorant and uncaring of what her gossipers thought. She needed to find another place, a better place to keep reading and true to her assumptions, it wasn't long until, Mito paid her a visit.

"It's not like you to barge inside without announcing your presence first. Or at least giving some sort of polite advertising. You must be pretty mad then." she flashed her a grin and that grin deepened when she noticed her twin sister's calm composure begin cracking.

"I am not mad, Miya." she responded when it seemed she had regained some of her cool back.

"Aw, you are no fun, onee-chan. The fuming version of yourself, now that's priceless. Maybe I should go around doing that sort of scandalous thing more often." the more rebellious of the twins put emphasis on every word that she knew Mito didn't approve of.

"You absolutely should not do it again. I mean, what were you thinking, insulting mother's and father's court?"

Feeling playful, and in desperate need of something else to think about other than the fact that she had learned tree walking from the enemy, Miya held up three fingers, keeping her eyes glued to her book. "One, it's as much my court and yours as is theirs. Two, half of the court. The other half is fighting for their lives and three..." the redhead paused, looking up with a shrug. "My only regret is that you weren't among them to hear me as well."

She watched Mito's purple eyes, usually collected and cold, widen, as if she couldn't believe what she was actually hearing. "You cannot possibly mean that."

Miya cocked an eyebrow, leaning the palm of her hand against her chin, elbow pressing into the mattress of her bed. "I can and I do. You need a wake-up call just as much as they did although I doubt they heard anything else besides the insults."

"There are nicer ways to make your point." her twin stressed the words and she could feel the disapproval coming off her in waves but it wasn't anything new to her. Nothing she ever did was good enough and Miya had long ago stopped trying to please people. It wasn't her job.

"I wouldn't know Mito. That's you."

"It can be you as well. Actually, it should be."

"Well I think you should leave." she said calmly because honestly the fight has left her and she knew that should Mito choose to stick around for much longer it might just come back. She didn't wish to yell today any more than she had already done.

The words worked like a charm, just like she knew they will because Mito was dignified and proud and never one to stay where her presence wasn't wanted.

She sighed, defeated, then snapped her book shut, half frustrated by the events of today and half at the ancient pages themselves. She hadn't been able to get her hands on something about war clans but the old keeper of the library had, after much pleading from her part, allowed her to borrow one on military strategy.

Miya stuffed out the burning candle, snuggling under the covers and keeping her eyes glued to the ceiling of her bedroom. Without wanting to, her mind drifted to the dark-haired boy and the more she thought about it, the more confused she got. I've been told, always and repeatedly that those of the Uchiha clan are evil and full of hate and yet I saw none of that in him. It didn't make any sense and she was determined not to say anything to anyone about her discovery. Not yet. Not until he gave her a bad reason to do so.

Miya really hoped he won't.

As she closed her eyes, the redhead prayed he was somewhere, alive and having a bed at least half as comfortable as hers.