Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, and very, very far away, I did not have to deal with this shit. This kind of language may shock you, but while I look like an adorable eight year old, in actuality I have almost twenty eight years of experience and the temperament of a crotchety old man. If I had a lawn – oh man you can bet no one would be stepping on it.

I raise a darkly tanned hand to the sunlight and sigh, blowing a wisp of blue hair out of my face. I had initially been overjoyed upon realizing that I had maintained a relatively similar skin tone to my original body. My curly hair also returned for a second round. But, of course, I cannot have nice things.

I may be in an anime, but my hair color is just ridiculous. I have blue hair. When I say blue, I mean blindingly bright HEY I’M RIGHT HERE CAN YOU SEE ME I will burn out your eyes aqua blue. Not even the nice shade of blue main characters get. It is pretty awful. And with this whole ninja gig it’s probably gonna get me killed.

Oh, yes. Ninjas.

Lucky me, I was reborn in the Narutoverse. Apparently. Huzzah.

Honestly, this was not a hit my already waning sanity could really afford. Not only was I pushed on into reincarnation instead of facing the pearly gates, but I found out I was spit out into a supposedly fictional world.

I mean, after a couple months of my baby self drooling all over myself, I could kinda get over it. The whole “reincarnation” thing. Well, as long as I never think about my family, all my friends-

-painpainwhyaretheygonecomeback-

-Yeah. As in, can’t think about that at all. Ever.

…Hm, where were we?

Ah, yes. Basically, I can get over the whole “reincarnated” part. Not so much the whole “living in a military state that fully endorses the use of child soldiers and freedom is a thing of the past” part. I am an American. I was practically suckled on the sweet nectar of freedom.

(I may no longer take myself or life in general seriously. If you hadn’t guessed.)

One must also consider the blazingly ridiculous things that happen to this world. I could only stomach so much bunny goddess before I was out. Like, how would I even go about fighting half of these things without OP to the max abilities? Well I’m not planning on it, so I suppose it’s a moot point.

To put this in perspective, while it has some relative good points, I really dislike most of the Leaf’s dictatorship, freedom sucking, shove-you-full-of-propaganda self. My life is in ruin.

I sigh again and gaze at my elevated hand, “Poor Yorick. Alas, alas.”

Hm. What was the rest of that quote?

I hear a sigh, “Miki-kun, please stop interrupting class.”

I look up and see Iruka-sensei staring at me, his gaze slightly pained. His hand is frozen half-way in his now habitual motion of massaging the bridge of his nose. Ah, that poor man. He is some of most fun I have in this life. I can’t help but feel a bit bad though. The only other kid that gets his blood pressure this worked up in Naruto.

Even then he tends to resort straight to yelling with that one. I can tell he doesn’t know how to deal with me. I’m too out of the norm from what he’s used to. My personality, or mostly my seeming babbling words, tends to put most people off kilter. I don’t make many friends this way. But I also tend to be able to do whatever the hell I want without much censure. Are you going to talk sense into crazy?

I blink guilelessly, my arm still posed in the air, seeming to be ignorant to the stares of the whole class. The kid next to me slowly scoots away. I say, “Ah, sensei, I am very sorry. I’m sure no one could concentrate, that having been such a half hearted recital. Perhaps again…”

I sit up straight as if to project my words, but only get out an “Ala-” (ah, now that I think of it, “Alas” goes first, right?) before being cut off.

“NO, no, that’s just- fine. Miki-kun. Please keep further comments in your head unless they are related to class.”

The rest of the class laughs as I bob my head complacently. I consider the pros of telling him why the works of Shakespeare are relevant to all matters of life, but decide not to push him. Iruka-sensei is a good guy all things considered. I don’t like to mess with him too much.

Too much.

He goes on to lecture about whatever this class is on. I think I’m in history. It would be super interesting if the amount of propaganda being shoved down my throat didn’t make me want to choke. Like, this is North Korea level of censorship right here. I’m kinda surprised we don’t pray to the first Hokage, given how much he’s propped up in our books. To the point he is literally called the god of shinobi. Then again, I guess the appointment of real Ninja God goes to the Sage.

I mean, it’s not that I think all the facts in this damn book are straight wrong. If Konoha wins (we always win), it’s recorded as a win. If we lose (Konoha has a history of very few tactical retreats), we lose. This happened then. These institutions were established here. The spin they put on everything is what makes me dizzy.

“The honorable first Hokage singlehandedly brought the entire world of shinobi out of the dark ages. He established Konoha and brought prosperity to the land, making a safe haven for all of her citizens. Now it is your turn to uphold the First’s Will of Fire and keep Konoha safe for the generations to come. Blah, blah, blah.”

Come on, the textbooks tell you to do things. This is not even trying to look like unbiased learning. It hurts us.

Most of the cultural and historical stuff goes like this in every book available to civilians and academy students. I can’t vouch for stuff available to ninja level, but it’s overall disappointing. Having been an International Studies major, cultural stuff is kinda what I do. Did. Whatever.

I can piece stuff together from what I knew previously and what I can get wading through politically charged texts, but it’s not easy going. If I had been a Clan Kid I may have been able to get my dirty paws on some choice info, but no such luck. You’re looking at an Oliver Twist. Olivia Twist? I still can’t quite grasp the state of gender equality here. Kunoichi are generally badass, but a significantly less amount fill out the forces. In fact-

I’m ripped from my musings by the ring of the bell. The kids quickly fling themselves from their seats and run to the door, ignoring whatever Iruka is trying to yell over them. The kid next to me seems particularly eager. I casually take a look at my hand and see that I had accidentally been carving pieces of wood from my desk. Again. Oops. Time to go before sensei notices.

I push my hands against my mutilated desk and attempt to casually mosey my way to the door. I skip down the steps, not trying particularly hard to avoid the stragglers. I take a glance at Iruka out of the corner of my eye. My inattention causes me to bump into someone. Red fills my sight.

Small hands quickly push me away, causing me to stumble. Bright blue eyes glare into my brown ones, and a sharp tooth scowl fills my vision. “Hey, watch where you’re going!” Uzumaki Naruto growls at me, his spiky red hair disheveled.

Ah yes, did I forget to mention that Naruto has red hair and the plot is shot to hell and back?

Silly me.

Chapter Text

You may have thought I was being melodramatic when I said the Plot is shot to hell. I suppose I can’t tell you if the overarching machinations that are going on (i.e. old-as-fuck Madara snickering in the corner somewhere. Or is he dead? Tobito snickering in the corner?) as it were, but I can tell you with 100% confidence that I have no clue where this crazy train is going in the short term. Naruto’s hair is just the tip of one huge ice berg.

I would be the titanic. Or possibly the whole world is the titanic, considering things escalated to apocalyptic proportions in the Alpha Universe, as I’ve taken to calling it. Which makes us Beta. I am very scientific about all this.

Anyway, after that brief horrifying human interaction with the human time bomb known as Uzumaki Naruto, I have decided school has nothing else for me today. So, I calmly stroll to the outer reaches of the recess area, paying close attention to the trees. They were big and very green, as usual. Konoha is a temperate place, its temperatures verging on tropical. I would call it tropical at points if it didn’t lack the humidity necessary. Its rainfall is pretty average as far as I can tell (being a meteorologist and all). It doesn’t have a rainy season or anything but I’ve never heard of us having a drought.

Once you start heading east, towards Rain, you start getting the ridiculous tropical rain forest level of rainfall. Except it can still dip low enough in temperature to snow. This makes farming over there a rather tiresome venture and is one of the reasons why Ame is so damn poor. Besides the ravaging civil wars of course. It is actually rather peculiar that Ame’s constant rain borders us and Suna. You know, the desert. It doesn’t seem quite natural. Actually, is it natural? Doesn’t swirly-eyed guy control the rain or something? Hm. Never had the mind for minor details.

Moving on. So Konoha kinda lucked out when it came to geographic location. The result is mild winters and flourishing fauna. I pat the tree I am next to in appreciation before making my way from the academy.

Academy policies on skipping class are as follows: don’t get caught. Admittedly I did not read the handbook that explicitly states this rule, but that’s what I’ve gathered. It seems appropriately ninja-ish so I’m just gonna say I’m right. I mean, it’s not like I’m the only one who skips out. A group of the boys, including largely “canon characters”, take it upon themselves to make many a daring escape. I’m the only one who usually strolls off in the middle of break, but that’s neither here nor there.

Noise greets me as I step out onto one of Konoha’s many busy streets. I fall in step behind a couple of brightly colored gossiping ladies and stuff my hands in my pockets. It is a long trek to my side of the city. While the Leaf didn’t necessarily look small in the anime, it did not capture its sheer scale at all.

The “village” is more like a city by my standards. Along with the types of houses Kishimoto kindly showed, leaf ninja have shown a propensity for building up. Like way up. Some buildings tower over their squatter neighbors, casting shadows on my path. Some of these spike up to be towards the height of the Hokage Mount Rush Moore. Strung between these buildings trawl walkways. I have a severe appreciation for the sky walks that span Konoha like spokes on a spider web. Or branches on a tree if you wanna get poetic. I spy a couple kids dashing across one. A little girl in pink shoes shrieks when a boy jostles her close to the edge, only for a brunette woman to catch hold of her and begin to scold the chastened boy.

Unable to wait for the boy, the rest of the kids move on while throwing the kid they left behind teasing faces. The lead girl whoops as she throws herself off the walkway onto the branch of the neighboring Hashirama tree, the others quickly following her.

Oh yeah, the huge ass trees are everywhere. They’re not kidding when they call us “hidden in the leaves”.

All this being said, all the hodgepodge towering buildings are reserved for the heart of the village. The further you go out, the more the buildings flatten out. The buildings on the outer rings certainly aren’t clones of each other, but they do get to a fairly equal (much smaller) height. These are the ones that most resemble the Konohagakure of my childhood manga.

This all has a purpose, of course. While Konoha is by no means an easy place for invaders to navigate, hoo boy there is no way for them to try to find their way through the snarly knot of the center of the village. Not to mention there are so many hidey holes and nooks and crannies that even if an invading force made it through the outer reaches, guerilla warfare would be straight up hell. It would probably be easier to blow up the Heart (as it’s called) than take it. Even then I have my suspicions that someone took the time to cure the wood of the buildings to make them fire retardant.

I felt a bit concussed the first time I properly saw the Heart, then subsequently got more lost than in either of my lives when I tried to navigate it. I’ve climbed as many skywalks as I can, and I’m sure I haven’t gotten to even half of them. Of course, I’ll never get to the upper reaches or the roofs unless I become a ninja. Even the most curious of kids know not to get on one of the ninja’s pathways. Even as I glance up I can see several black silhouettes darting across the blue crack of the sky.

Civilians could take it as comforting or threatening. Most choose to view it as comforting.

After about a fifteen minute lackadaisical walk I make it to the outer reaches. I have about another fifteen minutes before I make it to the orphanage. At a jaunty walk I can take around twenty minutes. If I tried running – well, another thing I kept was being a fast little shit. On top of that, these people’s bodies are crazy. Or, more specifically, Chakra is crazy. Even a civilian with no training probably has the potential to be just as fit as an Olympian. This is because everyone and everything has chakra here; they don’t even have to have a lot of it. Chakra just seems to streamline the body’s functions and make them work better. Actively using it doesn’t even bare mention.

So, while I haven’t bothered trying, I could probably make a couple mile journey in ten minutes flat. I am eight.

As I travel through the slowly thinning crowds, I check the now clearly viewable sun. It’s probably somewhere between twelve and one. I never got the hang of the whole “tell time by the sun” thing. I may one day. Hopefully. If I feel like it.

Now, you may be questioning why I, a perfectly functional (cough) human being with an adult mind is staying at an orphanage when they let a, like, four year old kid who didn’t know what chakra was when he was twelve live alone. Excellent question. The answer is not for the company nor the excellent service.

As it happens testing out of an orphanage isn’t really a thing except in special circumstances (coughNarutocough). Actually most orphanages are in fact in a state of “special circumstance” in the wake of the Kyuubi and the last war. Most are still in overflow eight years after the fact. Lucky me, mine is at a perfect working capacity since it’s the shittiest on the block

My orphanage, Sukoshi Hana, is located right on the edge of the red light district. It both does and doesn’t make sense when you think about it. The place is crap because most of the kids that are there are results of red light district. I.e. I’m the daughter of a whore. Huzzah.

Not that there is really any problem with that. I’d take a prostitute over a murderer any day. Although I have been told my chakra levels indicate that one of my parents was a shinobi. So daughter of a whore and killer? Actually, from what I’ve observed some prostitutes seem to be washed out ninja… I digress.

So yeah, while ninja really don’t give a damn about your occupation one way or the other, civilians still do. And it was the Civilian Council that distributed kids across orphanages. No one wants to put poor children orphaned out of tragedy on the edge of the red light district with a bunch of bastard kids. Thus we didn’t get overflow. And I have to stay at this damn place till I graduate the academy or turn sixteen if I fail.

In the last case you bet I’m shit-out-a luck if I don’t have an apprenticeship lined up. If I don’t have an income or become a genin with a stipend, once I turn sixteen I’m out on the streets. The red light district tends to get back what it made. It’s pretty depressing.

More depressing is that people don’t really care when kids disappear. Most people assume they left to become whores or thugs and let it end there. I didn’t give it much thought either until one of the kids that disappeared was a shinobi hopeful. When I was around five Arata was seven and super enthusiastic about becoming a ninja, like most kids are. The kid was pretty good, all things considered. He had a pretty big chakra reserve (probably indicating a Clan Member got busy down in the district) and was pretty diligent about his training. Then he just disappeared. Nothing that happens over here gets scrutinized too much and our caretakers are drunks who can’t remember their names half the time. So, Arata’s name passed into nonexistence. Only we remembered him, and the Hana kids wouldn’t speak his name for fear of also being snatched up. We knew he didn’t run away, but we seemed like the only ones who cared.

Not that I really care. That much. Arata was a good kid, if a bit naïve. I’d usually put it down to child traffickers (which, while very illegal in Konoha, doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen to those who won’t be missed) I actually did a bit of investigating. I pestered Midori, a “graduate” of the orphanage and a member of an upper class brothel, about some of the children who disappeared in her day. Being an adult lets her be able to put away the ghost story-esque feeling the whole thing has for the kids. Being a smart adult lets her know that the machinations of humans are at play. So she told me in a whisper and a threat to not go shooting my loud mouth off. Turns out none of the kids chosen didn’t show promise. They may have not all wanted to be ninja, but talent can show in little ways.

So, I can’t say that I don’t sometimes look a little warily at the roots.

Ah yes, moving on.

I turn the corner and spot my favorite red building in mild disrepair. It was framed by a three foot wooden fence. I know the side towards the back of the building is half caved in from an unfortunate incident a couple years ago. I can’t tell if the fence was there to look nice or be a joke. It wasn’t keeping anyone in or out. I walk to the front door, having to put a bit of muscle into it to work through the rusted hinges. Hm, Ran was apprenticing to a woodworker/home repair company. I’ll probably go bug her to fix this sometime.

“I’m home,” I call as I take off my sandals. I toss them in a pile with the rest. None of us bother to do anything orderly except Ichirou and Mami, who were a neat freak and a control freak respectively.

I pad towards the living room/play room and poke my head in. Most kids around my age were missing, either at school or out and about. A couple older kids were lounging around. Either they hadn’t found an apprenticeship or were on a break. Some toddlers scuttle around. Suddenly green haired Kyo suctions onto my waste.

I have long given up attempting to pry the menace off of me so I ignore him for the most part. I peer around a bit before Sho, a brown haired blue eyed and lanky fourteen-year-old, speaks up from where he is lounging on a moth-eaten couch, “I think that old bitty got the money. You need to go grab it and get groceries. We have almost nothing left.”

I gaze at him balefully before heaving a dramatic sigh, “Alas, I am but an eight year old playing hooky. I do not know thy name, responsibility.”

He does not look amused, “Just get the damn food, Miki-chan. Sota has already got the list ready,” here he reaches down and grabs a piece of paper off the snoozing boy on the floor, “and you’re the only one who can grab the money off her. Plus, you shouldn’t have been the one to start it if you didn’t want to do it.”

Oh yes, this is obviously my fault for not wanting to starve. Honestly I suppose Shizuka isn’t the worst possible caretaker. I mean, she drinks herself into a stupor and would spend all the money the state gives for us in her drunken haze. She never has tried to hit anyone though, or abuse us in any way and— wow look at how my standards have fallen.

I don’t bother responding and stomp up to the older boy, dragging the weight of the three year old with me. I snatch up his stupid list before pointing at my green hair growth. Sho rolls his eyes before plucking the protesting toddler off of me and I march out of the room.

I walk further down the corridor then take a right upstairs. I continue till the end of the hall then turn to the second to last door on the right. The pervading stink of alcohol stings my nose and brings back bad old memories. I really hate this damn room. I wrinkle my nose before jiggling the door knob. Unsurprised to find it locked, I knock on the door calling out, “Shizuka-san?”

I press my ear to the door and hear only the faint sound of snores in response. I grunt, unimpressed, and pull out a bobby pin from the depths of my wildly curly hair. I could probably hide kunai in my hair and no one would be the wiser. I hum the opening bars to Bohemian Rhapsody as I begin to absently pick the lock. I’m pretty sure locks on doors are another one of those jokes in a shinobi village.

The lock quickly pops open and I let myself into the room. The office area is a mess, as usual. Papers and a random assortment of items are strewn across the floor. Almost nothing that is supposed to be on the nice mahogany desk (it was the one nice thing here) is on it. A couple of sake bottles are very charmingly scattered across it. Shizuka herself is half sprawled on the stained chaise lounge set up in the middle of the room.

I place a calloused hand to my nose before adroitly making my way across the room. I am hardly worried about waking up my “caretaker” in this state and I have taken this path many a time, no matter how the specific way changed with the shuffling of junk on the floor. I nudge a bottle out of my way and position a lone chair to rest next to the side of one of the first in a line of (ill-used) book shelves lining the walls. The curtains are drawn in the window next to me but I take an incurious peek out of the crack that filtered in light. A man is pissing on the other side of the street. Nice.

I jump on top of the chair, then swiftly used the extra height to grab the top of the shelf and pull myself up. Training to be a murderer really does get you in shape. To be fair, I was a gymnast in my last life, and though I don’t have any muscle memory in this body, feats of strength and flexibility are not completely alien to me. Which is pretty good, considering I don’t have the mind of a child and would be therefore pretty leery of potentially killing myself with some of the stuff the Academy has us do. Luckily, I already went through one childhood of potentially concussion-inducing stunts and I’m not so phased.

I balance on the top of the bookcase before making my way to the end of the line. There I reach up to one of the wooden slats in the ceiling and jiggle it. I have a minor heart attack when the box falls out and I just manage to catch it, steadying myself against the wall so I don’t fall. I carefully readjust the slat before checking out my prize.

Ninja boxes are pretty cool things. They work off a mechanism focused on chakra and seals. Basically there is a sort of “tripwire” that one has to know or find in order to activate the seals and open the box. You can’t get one open with a show or force or strength, and attempting to blow one open would, you know, blow it up, destroying whatever is inside.

Ninja boxes, or their actual name Gingara, can be complicated to the point that they are attuned to a specific person’s chakra, or simply require a set of hand signs to open it. Hand sign focus chakra. When performing a jutsu hand signs shape chakra to mold a certain way or send it on a certain path. To open Gingara one must make chakra go down a certain path within the mechanism to trigger seals within it and open the box. Shizuka has the simplest one, meaning there are most likely about ten seals to the combination. It does make me curious, as while they’re not super rare, even the simplest one isn’t exactly cheap or even easy to find. My class last year on ninja tools only mentioned them briefly in one lesson. I wonder where she got it?

Either way, even a simple one would take a ridiculous amount of time to crack. There are twelve hand seals, and you need any combination of ten to open a Ninja box. I’m not doing the math, but you can. It’s basically a cryptographic nightmare if you have nothing to go on. So you probably think that I spied on Shizuka when she was opening it once and learned it from that.

Ha. No.

Shizuka was a shinobi once upon a time. She was only a career genin, and her skills have dulled an extreme amount, but damn does she go through those hand signs fast. They are basically just a flash. I’ve only ever managed to catch the first one, rat.

Now you may ask; but Miki, how do you get the money and not starve to death?

As it turns out, I have a cheat code.

As one may expect, I am extremely sensitive to chakra. It was actually a problem at first. While I never had a problem with my own, I was apparently practically comatose as a tiny baby. After that the adults thought that I had some type of chronic allergies. I sneezed all the time. The chakra would seem to burn my nose and make my eyes water. It was everywhere and being in a ninja village means there is an excess of it. Until I was four or so if someone performed a jutsu around me I would go into a sneezing fit, my eyes would get oversensitive, and I’d get a blistering migraine.

This is actually how I got “diagnosed”. One of those damn ninja recruiters who make their way around the orphanages noticed my minor fit after he “poofed” in. He quickly took me to the hospital, having the foresight not to do his ninja teleportation, where I was diagnosed with being “chakra hypersensitive”. To the extent that I have it would normally be debilitating. Luckly (ha) the medic-nin noted that my brain seemed to be slowly adapting to its mysterious denial of the existence of chakra, and I would eventually settle to the point where it would no long backlash so thoroughly. There was even a specialist who could probably help me. “In the long run, it shouldn’t affect your ninja career.”

Um, who said anything about being a ninja?

Oh yes. Lucky me Ninja Recruiter-san noted I should be an excellent sensor-nin in the future and I really am rather intelligent for my age according to the matron and his observations with my understanding of the situation. So that was one scholarship to the academy that I had no intention of getting in the bag.

By now my chakra sense has stopped punching me in the gut (as often). I only want to die a little when I’m around chakra monsters like Naruto and some jounin. I won’t even go near the bubble of chakra the hokage is putting off.

As a result I have found out I in fact do not suck total balls at chakra control. In fact, it is the one thing I’m good at. Like good at to a scary extent. I am very careful to not let anyone in on quite how freakishly talented I am at molding my chakra.

I sit my legs over the side of the bookcase and place the wooden box in my lap. I place my elbows on its top to keep it in place before placing my fingers in the rat seal and closing my eyes. The world lights up behind my eyelids. I can see the sparks of starlight moving around the house that show the other kids. Seems that thirteen people are currently home. The brighter pulsing blue stationed by me had originally clued me in to Shizuka having been a kunoichi. It’s easy to tell who is a ninja and who a civilian by how developed their chakra coils are.

Turning my attention to the box letting off passive chakra along with the sparks that seals give off, I set to work. The way is easy now; it was never particularly hard. The way to the “tripping” mechanism is worn down, like a path often used. The other avenues of path are also possibilities, but are not as easy to “walk” on. My chakra naturally wants to go the way that chakra has gone before. Chakra is a bit like water that way – charka calls to chakra and it likes to clump up. They’re both considered essential elements of “life”, so I suppose it’s not that weird.

Holding my fingers in the rat seal just makes it all the easier. It’s kinda like threading a needle. It’s pretty easy to direct my chakra how to bend and move from there. My work is done after a minute and the top pops open, revealing the money. My eyes flicker open and I drop the seal, grabbing the money.

I hop down from my perch, landing on all fours with the box and cash under my arms. I absently shake out my arm and dropped the open box next to Shizuka’s prone body after stuffing the cash in my pockets. I let the item fall askew and set out the door, closing it behind me. As long as I grabbed some sake bottles from around the neighborhood and left it on the floor of her room, Shizuka will assume she already blew all of her cash.

I absently twist on my shoes once downstairs and head out the door. I’d probably just get some stuff we’d need for dinner before making some others accompany me later. The wares are cheaper towards evening when they’re not as fresh and it’s not lot like I can carry a lot with my twiggy arms. Seriously, I was kinda a stick before I filled out with puberty last time, but I’m not sure I will this time with a lack of surplus of food and nutrients.

It would take me about twenty minutes to get to the marketplace on the westside of the Heart. I scuff my shoes and try expanding my senses to pass the time. I’d see how much I could sense as a part of a game. I would try and pick out how many people were in x building or y street. I especially like to see if I know them. For most of the people who know me, running into me is its own form of torture. The orphanage kids know me from all of my phases and don’t share in the dread my eccentric presence brings. Shame.

While wondering if I sensed Midori a street back, someone stops me from bumping into them. With a hand on my face. Rude.

I blink into focus and notice I have already walked into one of the nicer and more populated neighborhoods. Oops.

The next thing I notice is the positively oppressive chakra surrounding me. Unease curls in my gut. I’d know that dark scaly chakra anywhere. My brown eyes flick up, the hand having already been hastily removed, to focus on gold ones. A pale face sneers and me and I promptly pull the most painfully delighted face possible.

Your general distaste is largely mutual, Orochimaru.

“Evil science bro!”

“Orphan-chan.”

Chapter Text

Sarutobi-sensei truly hated him.

Orochimaru utterly loathed this nonsense muttering child.

He could feel his lip curl as he watched her standing there, grinning painfully brightly at him. Her unwieldy hair swallowed the topside of her head, the springing curls building up rather than down. Her skinny body was covered by the usual grey sleeveless hoodie and blue shorts he sees her in. He is never quite sure if she buys multiple copies of the same clothing, as most shinobi buy their clothing in bulk due to wear and tear, or if that is her only pair. Considering the orphanage the little creature comes from, he is leaning more towards the later.

Besides her obnoxious hair color the child was mostly nondescript. Her skin may be a bit darker than the norm for Fire country natives, but their village hardly has a standard for normal looks among shinobi.

Orochimaru noticed, himself included among the number, that quite a few shinobi had unique features. Some deviated far from the norm. He with his snake-like looks and others such as the ex-Kiri nin Hoshigaki Kisame with his shark-like visage. While there was not necessarily an excess of shinobi with this varying of features, there were absolutely no civilians with them. It did not take much to hypothesize this has something to do with chakra. While he had much more important research to conduct as an overseer of the R&D department and head of the Biological Engineering department (something he founded himself a few years back; often mistakenly seen as an offshoot of the hospital), he had looked into it a bit. He was not prone to curbing his intellectual curiosity when it is not needed.

His findings point him to their appearances being somehow linked with nature chakra. It was not a coincidence that prime specimens like he and Hoshigaki shared their physical traits with their summon animals. Perhaps an irregularly high compatibility with their summons had something to do with it. Both of their lineages had a history of having summoning contracts with said animals, so it was not a stretch to say prolonged mingling with them deviated the human contractor’s appearances. Jiraiya’s sage mode also granted him some toad-like features through the use of nature chakra. Unfortunately, he could perform limited experiments on himself in this instance and other specimens were not forthcoming. He could analyze his own DNA and chakra along with a few other procedures, but it would be irresponsible to conduct anything that may impair him for any period of time. His understanding of chakra and the sciences were unparalleled (although, he may reluctantly admit that his wayward ex-teammate beat him out in matters of medicinal biology and medicine in general) and many depended on him for his work.

His expertise was the purpose for his unfortunate acquaintanceship with the blue haired child.

She was one of the many deviations that popped up in the world of shinobi. Hers was not quite as useful as some. Her childhood, and lingering, sensitivity to chakra was almost alarming in its magnitude. The ridiculous brat had all but developed an allergy to it. While there had been documented incidents in the past of babies having suffered from extreme hypersensitivity to chakra and subsequently dying, most of these cases occurred in the time before the Great Villages were founded. It was mildly alarming to the medical community that a case such as the child’s may pop up more often. Orochimaru, acknowledged internationally as the foremost mind on the nature of Chakra, had been asked to look into her case

(Had he known that such an interesting case was attached to such an annoying creature, he may have not been so willing. Or at least twisted the arms of some of those twits down at the hospital to give him more privileges in looking at medical histories. Patient privacy was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard of. There is no such thing as something such as privacy in a ninja village, unless you had the power and cunning to pay for it)

He had later linked her body’s rejection of outside Chakra to her brain. This was not what he expected. It was as if her brain viewed any foreign chakra as bacteria or a virus, making her body attempt to reject the foreign substance. The Snake Sannin had never seen such a phenomenon before. As he sought to cure it, he also made careful notes on the topic so that he may be able to replicate it in the future. Purely for curiosity’s sake, of course.

He had developed a treatment for the child over the years. He did not have the skill nor precision in medical ninjutsu to directly affect the child’s brain (despite his insistence to Sarutobi-sensei that any damage done to the girl would be no great loss), and so focused on a distillation of chakra that would slowly acclimate her body. His apprentice, a young and talented boy named Kabuto, showed great skill in his part of the development.

Chakra is a curious substance. It could be condensed into soldier pills, just as it could be distilled into a liquid substance. As much as loathed the child, he could forgive her existence simply for the fact she provided an interesting project. It was not a simple process and it had taken a year to craft to his satisfaction.

He could take pleasure in that he got to inject the orphan with his concoction. She had a blinding phobia of needles to the point that she almost passed out after attempting to fight a nurse when needing an inoculation. He had no intention on dealing with her hysteria, so he always placed a mild perception genjutsu on her whenever he gave her a dose. She didn’t even know she was on a regiment; simply thought her body was adapting on its own.

It always brought a smile to his face when he thought of that little bomb he had up his sleeve. He would savor the panic and fear it would bring her. His revenge would be sweet.

Kukukukuku-!

Hem. The child probably didn’t even need any more treatment at this point. She was still sensitive to large quantities of chakra (such as he possessed) but it was to the point that it was a normal degree to a chakra-sensitive. He would have been happy to never see her madly grinning, nonsense babbling self again.

While he could understand the reasoning in continuing watching this child, it did not make it any less distasteful.

Danzo, that old bat (he willfully did not think of his own age), could never leave his hand out of any web. The child showed enough promise that he would be unlikely to resist spiriting her away at some point. She had the perfect balance of potential and nothingness. She possessed no connection outside of her wretched orphanage and anyone at the academy would believe she simply decided not to come back; she wanders off enough.

If he would only make his move they could track down more of his spider holes. Sarutobi-sensei may have a soft spot for his old friend, but Orochimaru had no compunction in burning him to the ground. He and Danzo were like minded in many ways, not least in their ruthlessness. While he did not have any particular moral issue in turning children into mindless soldiers, the old codger went out of his way to block any of the snake Sannin’s own goals. The moron saw Orochimaru as firmly on his teacher’s side, thus against him, and takes great pains in making any of his advancements and proposals for scientific experimentation as arduous as possible.

Politics is tiresome enough without some old goat constantly getting in his way.

Not to mention the other man shared his own interest in the Sharingan.

So the orphan was a means to an end and Orochimaru could be patient when it means getting what he wants. He also, as much as he hates to admit it, finds the dark skinned child somewhat interesting. He can see the signs of madness better than just about any shinobi. It was somewhat odd to find it in the eyes of someone so young, but not when it is also paired with the spark of genius. The child was intelligent, though many could not see it through her aura of insanity. Orochimaru was not most people.

She held a certain appreciation for science and asked multiple questions she should not have been able to formulate. Most of the time he demanded her silence, but sometimes her question was pointed or interesting enough that he stopped to ponder it. It was upon the third time that he answered her question that she referred to him as her “evil science bro”.

He stopped answering her questions.

She did not stop calling him that.

The “evil” was not particularly surprising. Despite the respect afforded to him as a Sannin and innovator, much of the Leaf, especially the civilians, were wary of him and his appearance. Many of the ninja were put off by his experiments. While he did not do anything particularly untoward to most of his specimens, some had heard of what becomes of those that find themselves in the depths of T&I. No one truly cares what happens to prisoners who cannot be used against their respective villages, and Sarutobi-sensei, as sentimental as he can be, does have a soft spot for him. He is quite willing to turn a blind eye to some of Orochimaru’s dealings, so long as he does not stray towards the residents of Fire Country. And if those that find themselves in T&I tend to be ninja that Orochimaru has cultivated an interested in, well.

No one really wants to get in his way when all that he does helps strengthen the Leaf.

But the child, no matter how unpleasant he is towards her, does not put any malice behind “evil”. It was a label, one that seemed almost matter-of-fact, but there did not seem to be anything behind it. A bit disturbingly, he could not identify the girl’s exact feelings towards him. He could sense the unease that she tried to hide behind her bright smile. Yet the smiles were not necessarily fake. He could see the apathy that painted her light brown eyes. He could also identify a cold clinical detachment in her manner when she talked about intellectual matters or let her airheaded façade fade. It was something that reminded him a bit of himself.

Her moods were mercurial and he is not sure she would actually care if he reached out to strangle her. Would she keep smiling? Would some sort of fear rise up in her? He wonders sometimes when she would do. Especially when he felt to urge to murder her. Which, considering how often she started shaking from the killing intent he not-so-accidentally leaked out, was not inconsiderable.

But he would not end her anytime soon. It is hard to analyze someone’s chakra when they are dead; it dissipates fairly soon after the body cools. And there is something very, very strange about this girl’s chakra.

“Hey-o, snake man, did you forget how to say anything besides ‘Orphan-chan’? I could break out some Parseltoungue for you, but I gotta warn ya I’m pretty rusty.”

He eyed the hissing child and wondered what she would look like strapped down on one of his operating tables with all of her organs removed.

I eye the snake-like man and wonder when I’d push him too far and wake up on an operating table with him looming over me with glinting, sharp objects resting eagerly in his hands.

By the sudden increase in pressure from his chakra and the curling darkness within it growing more agitated, not too long. I am impressed that no annoyance shows on his face. Not a twitch in his body language telegraphs what he’s feeling beyond that cool distaste that he always shows me. I would never know how great I am at getting to him if I couldn’t sense his chakra so keenly.

The panic I felt upon walking into an operation room and finding Orochimaru waiting for me was unimaginable. Fortunately, the incredulity I felt was too much and it quickly numbed the panic into stunned amusement. After a couple weeks in his presence and finding out that he was one of the only other people that thought of chakra as a scientific phenomenon and tried to analyze it beyond slapping the label of “chakra magic” on everything and being done with it, I developed a weird cocktail of feelings towards the man. Wariness, not an inconsiderable amount of lingering fear, respect, and a feeling of helpless incredulity resulted in the thought:

“Well, I am in regular contact with a man I know to be a psychopathic mad scientist who likes to give little boys hickeys. And blatantly tell them he wants their bodies. What the hell, why not be best friends?! I like science, he really likes science. I’m a sociopath, he’s a psychopath. We’ll be Evil Science Bros!”

Thus, my epic tale of friendship with Orochimaru began.

I do wonder when the man is going to kill me.

Alas, my life is a mystery.

My friendly neighborhood scientist, who masquerades at my doctor, stares at me blankly. He says, sibilant tones cold, “I have come to inform you that our session tomorrow its cancelled. I will send Nigi to tell you when I have time to deal with your deficiencies.”

I shiver and see a cool glint of satisfaction slide across his slanted eyes. Nigi was one of his minor summon snakes and I hate him. He was a deep black with golden eyes that almost perfectly matched his summoner’s and he took far too much joy in scaring the crap out of me. I woke up once to him wrapped around my neck and squeezing just tightly enough to feel like I was being choked without leaving any bruises.

I freaking hate Nigi.

I give the old geezer a thumbs up and immediately make a flying leap as if to hug him. Faster than I can process he replaces himself. I am fully sure that he didn’t have to use seals.

Of course, normally he’d have just shunshin’d away, but being the kind of person Orochimaru is, he replaces himself with a trash bin. I clumsily collide with the trash can, throwing myself to the side so that a minimal amount of its smelling content gets on me.

He literally made me throw myself in the trash.

“You fiend!” I shout, lying on my back.

The people passing me give me odd looks, careful to not come too close. Most likely, my Bro cast a genjutsu on himself so that only I could see him (the man’s a recluse like that). So most likely it looked like I was talking to the air then threw myself at a trash can that spontaneously materialized. It’s things like this that make a name for myself to the general public.

I eventually drag myself up, plucking a banana peel off of my chest. Well, at least I got to skip yet another of the useless nothing-happens-ever sessions with old snake face. I arch my back, stretching my arms to the sky, and let out a sigh. Welp, might as well get some groceries.

The next day I’m back at school. I’m a good student like that.

I was just going to cruise in a bit late, we had math in the morning and I can manage eight-year-old math thanks, but Mami heard I skipped again yesterday and made me leave early. So, here I am, at school at seven in the morning and an hour before the Academy starts.

I rub my eyes as I stumble through the hall. I have never been a morning person. Most likely never will be. I slouch up to my classroom door and slide it open, leaning heavily on it. I yawn and rub my eye. Only one person is in the class with me – unsurprising since she’s always here this early.

Hyuga Hinata sits quietly in the middle of the classroom, hands folded neatly in front of her. She looks pretty similar to how she did in the show; even her clothes don’t look too different to how I vaguely remember them at this age. The only real difference lay in the bandages wrapped tightly around her forehead.

Apparently Hinata’s dad was the youngest in this universe and she was shunted into Neji’s position. It’s the little things.

While her appearance isn’t very different, this Hinata is no wilting flower.

Her eyes flick to me, and though her eyebrow quirks slightly, her face remains neutral as she nods, “Greetings, Miki-san.”

I wave back. Ha, it killed her at first that she has to call me by my first name. Considering I have no family name she doesn’t really have a choice in the matter. Upon graduation, or coming of age, I’ll get my choice from a list of approved orphan surnames. I am less than enthusiastic about this and seriously consider being the “Madonna” of this universe.

“Hello Hinata-chan! you are looking particularly fierce today.”

She quirks a smile in response and I can’t help but crack a smile too. This Hinata is pretty serious and absolutely ruthless in taijutsu matches (which we started this year). Since her mom is also dead, she’s the one that looks after her little sister. While in Clan culture there’s no real “orphans”, Hinata does bear the responsibility of her particular household. The kid is very responsible and has a lot of pressure on her, being the destined bodyguard of the prissy prince of the Hyuga, but she still seems to retain her kind soul.

I wasn’t sure about that at first. She is always polite, but she is also rather controlled all of the time. But she is one of the only kids in this class that smiles at me without any cruelty or mockery behind it. While pretty startled at me calling her “Hinata-chan” instead of “Hyuga-san” (as would be proper) from the get-go, she seems to find it refreshing rather than insulting. I’m pretty sure the poor girl is stressed and repressed.

Also too pure for this world.

I go and plop down in a seat a couple rows behind Hinata. I never tend to sit in the same seat multiple days in a row. It annoys the hell out of most of the kids. I hum (not very) softly to myself and lay my head down on my arms.

Nap time.

It feels like only minutes later I am jolted awake by a rude finger digging into my side. My head whips up and I sloppily attempt to push the hand away, hitting air. I bare my teeth, squinting my eyes in dismay, as I look up to the looming figure.

Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration. I am one of the taller kids in my class and the guy isn’t that much above me even when I’m sitting down. I growl, “What?”

Small dark eyes stare back at me, eyelids drooping over them. Shikamaru tsks, “Class is about to start. You shouldn’t be sleeping.”

I gape attractively, “That is so hypocritical I think I’m gonna hurl.”

The boy brushes me off (the jerk) and sits down next to me. Inwardly I die a little inside. Long ago I took back my love of the lazy genius. He was one of my favorite characters, and now one of the banes of my existence in this world.

I hate geniuses. Bothersome, all of them.

I set my gaze firmly out the window to my left, valiantly attempting to ignore the beady eyed gaze still pinned on me. Ugh. We’d been playing this game for almost a year now and I still don’t like it. It always starts with-

“Do you want to play some shogi?”

I don’t move my eyes from the beckoning outdoors, “Unfortunately I’ve got some super interesting grass to watch. The grass is always growing in Konoha, so perhaps in a different lifetime.”

“Troublesome.”

Like he has the right to say that. The boy has been badgering me nonstop for a game. I have no clue what set it off. One day he ignores me like everyone else, the next I’m apparently his destined shogi partner. While this Shikamaru seemed like just as much of a lazy ass as the one from the show, this time it seems to be more of a façade. It was a very startling turn of events after having been happy that at least some things didn’t change. Why does life hate me so?

But, as always, the kid was like a dog with a bone, “We could-”

And now it is my turn. It was best to interrupt him before he really got going. Honestly, it’s a bit unfair that he has to do so much less work, but it was an unwritten rule in our imaginary game that he had to shut up for a bit after this.

I jump up on top of my desk and pose with one hand pointed to the ceiling. I hear multiple groans. Heathens just can’t appreciate art.

“I come from a land from a faraway place where the caravan camels roam,” I mumble the next few lines, not completely remembering them, “It’s barbaric, but hey, it’s home. When the wind's from the east and the sun's from the west and the sand in the glass is right; Come on down, stop on by, hop a carpet and fly, to anOTHER ARABIAN NIGH-”

“Shut up!” Ino yells, finally having enough, “Shikamaru, you idiot, you know not to talk to Miki-chan! She always does this when you talk to her!”

Chouji looks up from where he and the nuisance usually sit at, “I thought this one was actually pretty interesting. It reminded me a bit of Suna.”

“She sounds like a dying bird when she sings,” Ino shoots back, leaning angrily over her desk.

Chouji has nothing to say to that, simply resuming eating his chips. Like I said, “You all have no appreciation for the arts.”

I’m pretty sure Mt. Ino blew up in the distance and a lot of kids start yelling (many of them taunts), but I ignore them and cross my arms, staring down at the boy who instigated my Ode to Aladdin. Irritating Ino and the rest of the class tended to put an end to our “game”. I glare down at him, daring him to further risk the blonde’s wrath.

Shikamaru merely stares back, a smirk flitting across his face before he gets up and slumps down the stairs to his seat besides Chouji. Asshole.

It was a bit unnerving for the genius to take such an adamant interest in me. His actions deviate enough from his Alpha counterpart that I can’t tell the motivations behind them. Does he just find me amusing? This Shikamaru still tends to call everything troublesome and not go out of his way to start something. Which is basically what he does every time he approaches me.

You may wonder why I don’t just play the damn game with him. I won’t lie; part of it is pride. I said I wasn’t going to play it the first time and I stand by that. The other part is a niggling intuition of sorts. I don’t want to be placed on whatever board that kid is playing on. He seems interested in me now, but playing him in shogi seems like it would cement whatever it is he thinks about me. I’m pretty sure he’s almost smarter than me, if not already so, even at eight. I’m not sure I’d be able to hide anything from him in a game.

That probably sounds a bit weird. Background information: Shikamaru plays almost everyone in a game of shogi at least once. I’m guessing he can read a person by how they play. Or, at least, assess their tactics? Their overall intelligence? I’ll be straight with you; I have no clue what goes on in that kid’s mind.

Usually if someone refuses, Shikamaru will just let it go. Most kids agree – it doesn’t really do to deny a Clan Kid, nonetheless an Heir – but he doesn’t seem too concerned when someone refuses. Apparently I’m an exception. As always. Huzzah.

I hop back into my seat with a sniff. I fold my arms before me and rest my chin on them. Iruka-sensei should be here soon. Like most things that unnerve me I try to push the topic of Shikamaru to the back of my mind. Considering I deal with my Evil Science Bro on a regular basis, I really should not be so easily unnerved by an eight-year-old.

The day was pretty boring. As usual. If ipods were a thing here this wouldn’t be a problem. I ended up carving some designs into my desk on purpose today. My nails are pretty long and thick, even more so than my last life. It’s possible that I have some Inuzuka in my lineage. They’re not nearly as uptight about keeping the bloodline “pure” as some of the other clans. The general toughness of my nails plus a bit of chakra equals hours of mindless destruction of school property.

Shino is the lucky person to sit next to me today. As such, he is not nearly as put off as the kid yesterday. Pity. How am I supposed to get through my day without traumatizing at least one child?

“Listen up!”

I look up to see Iruka-sensei stopping people from starting to gather their things. It was about five minutes till the bell rang. Most likely he’d just remind us we have homework.

This hypothesis is proven incorrect when he reaches into his desk and pulls out some forms, “Next week we will be going on a wilderness survival trip,” here he pauses to allow for some excited murmurs, “You will need to get your parents to sign a permission slip letting you go. Line up orderly – That means you Kiba – in front of my desk to get it on your way out.”

As the children excitedly line up I make my way to the door. As a ward to the State, and the Academy being a State-run institution, I don’t have to get these types of things filled out. I pause in front of the door. Naruto, the red haired menace, stands next to me. Honestly there is room for both of us to go through the door (we are both skinny af on top of being little children), but he is a dramatic little bugger. I am so above his dramatics.

(Cough)

He scowls, “Oi! Get outta my way!”

I blink slowly back out him, “There are always more ways than just yours Red-kun. Why, the best happens to be the road less traveled. As such you should really try the window. I’m sure it would make all the difference-”

Naruto reaches over as if to strangle me. Jeez, these children are so rude. I am in the middle of imparting invaluable knowledge. And violence is never the answer. It’s the question. The answer is “hell yes”.

Oo, I gotta remember that one for later.

“Get out of my way losers.”

I would know that privileged voice anywhere. I turn my head to see Uchiha Sasuke standing behind us, permission slip in hand. Not gonna lie; the kid was adorable. You really cannot pull off the haughty look with such chubby cheeks, Sasu-chan.

Naruto immediately bristles. If one thing has not changed, it is the rivalry between these two. Naruto is still hated by everyone, and Sasuke adored. Admittedly the kid was super polite and even occasionally cheery to everyone. But us.

Now, whatever did I do to deserve this kind of treatment?

“Shut it, bastard!” Naruto growls, turning to the new presence.

“What are you going to do, dead last?” Sasuke sneers back. Man, he really cannot manage any ounce of intimidation through that adorableness. You live a rough live, Sasuke.

I sense it. My time to shine. I grin cheerfully and step between the two, hands raised in a gesture of peace, “Boys, girls,”

(“He’s the girl!”)

“Violence is never the question. It’s the answer. No, wait, I fucked that up.”

Both boys look rather unimpressed. Everybody’s a critic. Finally Sasuke huffs, “Get out of the way, crazy.”

Naruto looks torn between agreeing with his rival and removing me, and the fact that would include agreeing with Sasuke. Before he could formulate a reply, a shadow looms over us. We look up to see Iruka-sensei. He doesn’t look particularly pleased.

“Naruto-kun, Miki-kun, stop antagonizing Sasuke-kun. Sasuke-kun, stop arguing with those two.”

Naruto sputters angrily as Sasuke pouts (ah man, he’s trying his level best to brood, but that face it just too cute) and I cry indigently, “Sensei, I was trying to stop the violence.”

He deadpans, “I heard that, Miki-kun. Please go home now you all.”

The other two sulk out and I spin away. I see Iruka pinch the bridge of his nose on one of my revolutions. I am not pleased that he did not recognize my heroics.

It’s hard being a hero, but someone has got to do it. Not me. Not Naruto from what I’ve seen either. But someone has to. Maybe we can hold auditions?

Chapter Text

“Come at me Inuzuka and I will cut you.”

 “Hah!  You can’t even hurt that rabbit ya stupid blueberry!  Like ya could lay a hand on me!”

Children scream in the background in a cacophony of noise.  I’m pretty sure I can see our campfire growing to dangerous proportions out of the corner of my eye; probably due to the fact a couple kids with pyromaniac tendencies keep throwing more forest brush into it.

The career genin moonlighting as a chunin assistant who had been left behind to watch us had long since been taken out.  He lay on the ground, bound to the nines.  I’m pretty sure he is crying too – it’s hard to tell since Ino blindfolded him.  She is now putting him through a surprisingly brutal (emotionally) interrogation, some girls from her posse flanking her.

Naruto and Sasuke could be heard even above the general commotion, tussling on the ground while screeching and pulling hair.  It is the harshest cat fight I have ever witnessed.

Bedlam reigns and it is sorta beautiful, in a mildly frightening way.

None of that matters right now though – all that matters is little Usagi-chan in my arms and this stupid mutt in my face.

Well I suppose I should recap: it all started with this stupid survival camp.

Now, I like nature about half as much as the next guy.  I enjoy its beauty and everything, photographing it was one of my favorite things a lifetime ago, but I hate camping.  I think I forgot that little fact between this life and the last.

 The smell of nature filters into my nose and I gag.  While I typically enjoy the sharp fresh smell of the vivid green growth that surrounds Konoha, the fact I’ll be sleeping in it for two days sours the experience.  I clench the soft dirt under my fingers and whip in into the air.

“Pfff,” I sputter as it rains down on me.  Not exactly my most thought out action.  It doesn’t really matter anyway since some little idiots decided to have a dirt slinging fight on the way here. Which I was right in the middle of.

We are about an hour out of Konoha proper towards the southeast.  It is an area still monitored enough that we are in relative safety, while being far enough away that we are unlikely to encounter anyone else.  Considering a trained ninja can traverse this span of distance in fifteen minutes, compared to the hour a gaggle of eight year olds take, it might as well be considered part of the city perimeters. 

So after an unpleasant walk Iruka, with a couple assistants accompanying him, indicates the clearing we will be setting up camp in.  He has everyone going through the motions of setting up tents, collecting firewood, and setting up “traps” (that couldn’t catch a squirrel, nonetheless an enemy nin) around the perimeter.  The kids had taken pretty well to it overall, considering it was most of our first times out of Konohagakure proper.  Truly, enthusiasm is at an all time high.

“Ah, Miki-kun, please get off the ground and stop throwing dirt on yourself,” I hear Iruka’s hesitant voice from somewhere above me.

I squint my eyes open and flinch as the sun peaking from between the trees flashes into my eyes.  Eugh, the sun it burns us.  Seriously though, this sun sensitivity is the worst. 

Along with various other traits I toted along from my last life, piss poor vision has also decided to make a victory lap.  Well, I don’t think my vision is deteriorating at as fast a rate as last time, so hopefully my eyesight won’t be quite as bad.  I couldn’t see a damn thing without my glasses by my late teens – even colors blurred together, nonetheless shapes.

I figured they’d have some procedure to fix poor vision considering there were very few ninja with glasses and chakra is basically miracle juice.  However, when I first was ruminating on the problem as I noticed some vague blurriness a bit after I turned seven (if I hadn’t been looking out for it I would never have noticed – didn’t when I was actually a kid until my teacher pointed out I kept squinting at the board and my mom took me to the eye doctor), I remembered something that disproved my theory. 

That freaky deaky silver haired kid that was Orochimaru’s underling wore glasses, didn’t he?  Kabu-something?  Whatever-his-face was a super good ninja too.  On top of that, wasn’t he a freaking med-nin?  Like, an almost Tsunade-level deal?  He sure as shit understood how to mess with genetics, so I’m guessing he could clear up some nearsightedness.  Maybe he thought the glasses made him look cool or something?

Well I don’t know what the deal was in Alpha universe, but looking into it in Beta, there are no eye procedures for ninja.   Even the glasses selling shops are civilian exclusive!  This confused the hell outta me, but I came to a couple conclusions:

A)  Chakra tends to eliminate physiological maladies in one’s genetics, especially if someone has a lot of it. This seems plausible, especially considering that people from Clans, even if not shinobi themselves, always seem to be in peak condition health wise.  While it’s possible to catch certain strains of colds, bodies overall don’t seem to really break down overmuch in old age.  Elders from Clans didn’t seem to have arthritis or failing eyesight.  Look at old man Hokage; he could duke it out when he was what, eighties?  Almost eighties?  Like I said before, chakra is pretty crazy.

B)  Ninja are paranoid and secretive shits who refuse to show any weakness. There are barely any ninja therapists besides a couple Yamanaka who drive themselves crazy trying to convince people why they’re necessary.  Besides the mandatory psych evals, there is no one to talk to about your issues beyond trusted comrades.  Even then, there’s an ingrained prejudice against showing weakness.  Like, PTSD isn’t even a thing here.  Maybe if I could get a hold of a Yamanaka Psychology text they’d have a concept similar to it, but it’s not widely acknowledged.  Even basic things like depression, anxiety, or mental issues are not openly discussed or diagnosed.  Like?  These people kill other people for a living in a ridiculously high pressure job and can’t admit to having any notable emotional or mental responses to it?  Is there any wonder that there are so many crazies?  I honestly can’t even blame someone for breaking to pieces in this kind of society.

The only honor among murderers is strength, it appears.

Well, it’s honestly probably a combination between my two theories.  Either way, this helps me jack shit, so I decide to take my sight into my own hands unless I want to be half blind the rest of this life.

So I talk to my friendly neighborhood Evil Science Bro during one of out we-don’t-really-do-much sessions.  I ask him about using chakra to fix eyesight.  After about five minutes of ignoring me and a nicely executed sneer of derision, he informs me that shinobi with good chakra control can use their chakra to enhance their vision for a short period of time.  When I ask why not long term, he tells me that the eyes are rather delicate, and one wrong spike of chakra could get you either blind or with two explodey balls in your head.  Most people don’t have the precise chakra control necessary to maintain an enhancement on such an intricate level.

Then, of course, I have to wonder exactly what the chakra does.  Do I get a film of chakra over my eyes that acts like contact lenses to even out my vision? Nearsightedness itself is caused by the eyeball being too long, making light focus incorrectly.  Does the chakra somehow shorten the eye?  Refocus the light?  How can people do these things with chakra without knowing the biology of what they’re doing?

It honestly makes me wonder.  Half the time it seems that chakra is all about intention.  The only people who seem to actually know the methodology behind what they’re doing are med-nin, who must study medicine and biology before they can even start medical ninjutsu training.  Why don’t people have to know anything besides hand signs and a jutsu name to be able to spout a ball of fire from their gullet? 

Does chakra break the laws of nature, or is it a part of the natural order? 

Is it magic where all you need is some sort of focus and intention, or a science that requires precision?

Well

I don’t have a damned clue.

So, I resolve to go ahead and try to fix my own vision.  I study an anatomy book with a section on eyes (including diagrams!) at the library beforehand just in case.  I then direct my chakra to my eyes.  I start with a trickle then steadily ramp it up until I could see perfectly.  I have one scare where I think I rendered myself blind.  It turns out I burst some blood vessels and the blood blocked my vision.  It also looked like I was crying blood and I made some of the younger kids at the orphanage cry. 

Happily, I manage it in the end, even if I don’t know exactly what I’m affecting.  My eyes get tired after a while so I don’t maintain the flow when I’m sleeping or if I don’t really need to, like if I’m reading or walking somewhere.  Like I said, my vision isn’t that bad yet anyway.  It also isn’t much of a bother to maintain.  Gotta use my freakishly good control for something. 

It is a constant, if minor, drain while I use it.  If I end up being a pint sized killer, I’ll have to take that into consideration in the field.  Another side effect is also sun sensitivity.  My eyes have grown sensitive to the sun over this past year, even when I’m not maintaining my chakra lens.

I should get some sunglasses.

“…Miki-kun?” 

Ah, yes.  Iruka-sensei.  He is staring at me rather awkwardly.  He’s probably been waiting for me to respond for a while.  Better say something back.  Assuage the poor man’s fears that I’ve finally gone off the deep end.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

Nailed it.

“Er, ah,” the tanned man looks lost for words.  He stares at me a bit longer until it seems to pain him.  He looks around frantically until he spies something out of my line of sight.

“Ah, it appears Hinata-chan could use a bit of help!  You like Hinata-chan, right, Miki-kun?” The last question comes out a bit desperately. 

For shame, Iruka-sensei!  Using the fact I tolerate the not-quite-Hyuga-Heiress more than other children to your advantage.  Scoundrel!  Rabble-rouser!  Ninja!

I gotta admit; I am a bit proud.  Instead of just being vaguely distressed, Iruka is now looking vaguely distressed and taking action! They grow so fast.

I languidly slip to my feet, flexing my toes in the loamy ground.  I stretch my arms and proclaim, “I cannot ignore a poor soul in need.  I shall endeavor to aid the fair maiden at once!”

Ignoring the physically older man’s reaction, I make my way across the camp ground towards Hinata.  She appears to have heard her name and is already looking in my direction.  She certainly does not need my help putting up her nearly-finished tent.  She also looks somewhat unsure, but not wholly unwelcoming.  Which is more than I can say for most people.

“Hello Miki-san,” she greets quietly, yet firmly.  The girl is a bit of an anomaly in our class.  Strong people tend to be loud and exhibitionist.  The Hyuga girl is more the strong, but silent type.  She doesn’t even have the creepy vibe going on like Shino. 

“Hinata-chan, my dear lady!  I am here to aid you in your quest for shelter,” I inform her, willfully ignoring that she only needs to hammer down two more pegs to secure the tarp over the tent. 

She merely smiles at me, “Thank you, Miki-san.  If you would please secure that tarp strap I would be most thankful.”

This girl. 

I do as she asks as she does the other one.  I allow her to use the provided hammer and instead use the end of a blunted kunai.  I only have a small slice from almost stabbing through my leg and am rather proud. 

After we’re done we put our backpacks into the tent.  It will most likely only be us two for the night.  People think I’m crazy, and while Hinata is kind, she is also quiet and intense for the average eight year old.  The other girls will probably overcrowd themselves in the other girl tents to stay together.  Considering I share my room in the orphanage with four other brats, I am more than happy for the extra space.

I soon hear Iruka hailing us to come to the center of the camp so he can discuss our next activity.  Most of the group is rather excited (Shino, Shikamaru, and I are notable exceptions) and he announces that we are going to prepare for dinner.  Cheers arise from the children, always excited to eat.

This is where everything goes wrong.

“I will be taking  Aiko-chan back to her house,” Iruka indicates a vaguely familiar distressed looking girl standing next to him.  She sniffles and looks overall rather pathetic. 

He continues, “Kirihito-san will go and collect fish and water from a nearby river.  Homura-san will be staying behind to monitor you.  He will also be walking you through this exercise. Ask him if you require any assistance.”

“Wait what are we doing?” Naruto calls out.

“Naruto!  I just said Homura-san will explain to you!  Listen once and a while, you knuckle-head!” Iruka exclaims back, thoroughly annoyed. 

Crying-girl starts crying more and he hurries to soothe her.  He attempts to calm her down by telling her that she will be home soon, but when he goes to pick her up she angrily exclaims that she doesn’t need to “be held like a baby!” and runs off.  The young man in turns sighs tiredly and goes after her.

Kirihito, a stocky black haired young man, snickers at Iruka’s plight before teasingly elbowing his brown haired compatriot and exclaiming, “Have fun with the kids!”  He thusly poofs into nonexistence and we are left staring at the lone Homura-san.

The gangly young man, likely around seventeen at most and most likely a career genin, gulps slightly, freckles in stark contrast to his paling skin.  I can feel multiple eyes following the sweat dripping from his temple, like sharks smelling blood.  Hoho, someone should tell this poor boy not to show weakness in front of a bunch of kids taught to exploit it.  Hell, subs from my last life knew not to show weakness in front of a bunch of non-lethal kids.  As much as we are taught to respect authority, we equally enjoy flaunting it.

I smile, “We’re gonna tear you apart if you let us.”

Ah, I am such a Good Samaritan. 

The boy’s eyes widen, now trained nervously on me.  His Adam’s apple (what is that called here, considering that particular creation story ain’t around?) bobs.  Now, why does he look scared of me?  I’m the one that warned him.  No sense, that one.

Ino steps in, bopping me on the head and smiling her sweet, angelic, and totally fake smile, “Don’t mind Miki-chan – she’s totally nuts sometimes!  What are we supposed to do, Homura-senpai?”

The boy seems to somewhat collect himself at this, clearing his throat and his voice only breaks once, “You all are going to help prepare dinner by catching wildlife around here.  There are mostly squirrels and rabbits, with the occasional fox.  If you have good enough aim, you could also take down some birds.”

His explanation is followed by an explosion of sound.  Many girls squeal in disgust at the thought of killing animals.  A lot of the boys are taunting each other over how many they would catch, Kiba being one of the loudest.  Many of the Clan kids look self assured at the task before them.  Likely they have done something like it before.  Because having five year olds gut animals is a sure way to maintain a sound mind. 

“Hah, like you could catch more animals than me!  There’s no way they’re getting past my traps!” Naruto yells at Kiba, a cocky look on his face.

For once, his cockiness is not unfounded.  Like Alpha Naruto, this Naruto has a penchant for pranking and is killer at traps.  Pun somewhat intended. 

I’ve seen him catch a chunin in a wire trap he set up around town, stringing the poor chump up by his leg and subsequently plastering him in orange.  Alpha and Beta Naruto both seem to be a genius in trapping.  I never understood why Alpha didn’t capitalize on his.  Maybe this one will? 

The red haired brat catches my gaze and squints aggressively, “Watchu lookin' at?”

I squint back, “The face of a failed messiah figure.”

The boy’s face scrunches up in confusion before he scowls and stomps away, ignoring the calls of Homura to not stray too far.  I watch him go and frown to myself.  I am so not bitter that this Naruto doesn’t resemble the sunshine one from my first childhood.  Not at all.  I just said that to confuse him.  Yeah. 

“You really should not antagonize Uzumaki-san that way, Miki-san,” a feminine voice chimes in from besides me.

I turn to see pearly lavender eyes looking calmly at me.  Man, I’m pretty sure this girl is the only one in this universe that can get me to feel a bit of guilt.  Even then, there’s not much.  I don’t really feel too much nowadays. 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” I tell her loftily.  Beyond her shoulder I catch the eye of one annoying Nara.  He raises an eyebrow and gives me a look.  I can’t tell you what kind of look it was, but I did not like it.  I stick my tongue out and make the ugliest face possible at him before turning around, missing the stern look the girl next to me shoots at him.

I stomp towards the woods, passing by a clutch of girls swarming Sasuke and pleading him to catch their dinner for them.  Poor boy looks thoroughly put out and annoyed.  Unfortunately every syllable he makes is followed by a bought of squealing.  No wonder Uchihas only deal in monosyllabic grunts.  The mini Uchiha looks in my direction and makes a pleading face.  Okay, “pleading” is a bit of an exaggeration.  He wasn’t glaring at me, which is basically the same thing.  I give him my most sympathetic look possible, followed by cupping my hands in a heart shape to show him my love and support. 

Somehow I don’t think he enjoys the gesture as much as he should have.  That twitching eye and redness didn’t look quite healthy.  I should mention to one of his fangirls that poor Sasu-chan looks a bit peaky.  Hell, he might even die, the poor dear, if someone doesn’t give him the love and attention he needs.

Hehehehe…

I am about to stroll into the woods in a much better mood, only to be interrupted by a small weight pouncing on me.  I look down to see Akamaru panting at me with his paws stretched out on my legs.  He kneads my legs, claws scratching me and tongue lolling cutely from his mouth.  My heart simultaneously melts and twists.  I absolutely love dogs.  In fact, I had one right about his size long ago…

“Hello there Akamaru,” I scratch behind his ears, causing him to yip happily.  Little punk knows I’m a sucker for a cute face.

“Oi, Akamaru, get away from her or you’ll catch crazy!” Kiba yells as he runs up to us, snatching his puppy up and baring his teeth at me.

I attempt to contort my face into a pout, “It’s not my fault Maru-chan here likes me better, Pretty Kitty.”

Kiba growls, face red, “Don’t call me that you weirdo!  And Akamaru doesn’t like you better!  He likes me best!  You’re just a crazy girl who can’t do anything.  I bet you can’t even catch a rabbit!”

While an eight-year-old yelling and frothing at the mouth at me normally wouldn’t move me, I feel a bit insulted at the jab at my competency.  The audacity!  Why I outta…

Nope.  There they go.  The fucks that I give – they have all flown away.  Alas.

I gaze at him dispassionately, “No matter how the wind howls, the mountain cannot bow to it.”

The boy gives a little scream/yowl, throws his hands up in the air (jostling poor Akamaru in the process) and stomps into the woods.  He quickly disappears into the vegetation and I am left alone.  Most people have left the clearing by now.  I give a low hum and start my own way forward, in a different direction than my dog-like classmate.

Cool shadows immediately envelop me as I trudge through the bush.  I run my hand across a tree and wrinkle my nose at the scratchy texture.  I’m so used to the smooth trunks of Hashirama trees that normal ones are a bit odd. Normal trees aren’t nearly as big as the chakra infused ones.  Hashirama trees are scattered around the entire fire country as camouflage for where our village hides, but in much less quantity.  Normal trees can’t really compete with them, and have the habit of dying if they are in a Hashirama tree dense area. 

I kick my way through bushes until I make it to a relatively clear path.  Maybe a deer path?  I kick my feet and amble forward. 

So, I’m supposed to be catching squirrels or rabbits.  I can totally do that.  I’m pretty quiet when I want to be, so they won’t hear me coming.  I also have a sharp kunai for the occasion.  My aim is awful so I won’t be able to nail it long distance.  I’ll have sneak up behind it and catch it with my snake like reflexes.  Then, it’ll just be a slash, and the small furry creature will be history.  Just a cooling body leaking blood, its innocent existence extinguished.  Yeah, easy…

I blink and realize that I have stopped walking.  I huff to myself and shake my head.  I can’t let this kind of thing get to be.  Hell, I’ve died before.  I may have never been able to kill an animal my last life, but I’m different from that girl.  I’m a self diagnosed sociopath, ain’t I?  What do I care about some little old rabbit?

I care.  I care a lot. 

Hours later I stare wide eyed down at the bunny in my arms.  It wiggles a bit, legs lightly hitting my stomach, but it stopped struggling too much a while ago.  Its brown fur shows a ripple of glistening red wrapped around it in a circle.  It must have gotten caught in a wire trap then gotten out.  That’s not too surprising, considering most of us don’t know how to set up a decent trap for shit.

It has dark and light brown dappled fur.  Interestingly, it has a patch of white vaguely in the shape of a crescent moon curled around its right eye.  It’s the only white on it, besides its little cotton tail.  My dinner wiggles its pink little nose and looks around with big black eyes.

I couldn’t harm the damn thing if you were holding a knife to my throat.

I let my kunai drop from my shaking hand and groan.  Bunny wiggles around a bit more and seems to look at me expectantly.  I mean, I don’t really need meat today.  I’ll eat some berries and nuts.  It’s not like I haven’t gone days without eating much.

I went to set the rabbit down before fear strikes my heart.  What if another kid stumbles onto rabbit while it was hopping innocently in the woods?  Those little mongrels would strike him/her down and feast on his/her bones! 

I give a fearful look at the animal before hefting him/her further in my arms.  Well, I’ll just wait until this little exercise it over.  I decided not to hurt the rabbit, so no one else will either.  Nodding to myself, I start walking aimlessly forward. 

I look down at the animal in my arms and muse aloud, “Eh, I might as well give you a name while we’re together.  Hm what should I name you little usagi-chan?”

I stare down at his/her face, again noticing the crescent moon around his/her eye.  I gasp excitedly, starling my companion and causing him/her (I should probably check), to squirm.

“Usagi-chan!  Perfect!  The most magical of magical girls,” I give an awkward spin and attempt to pose with a rabbit in my arms, one arm extending out, “In the name of the moon, I shall punish you!”

“…Is that so?”

Shikamaru looks duly unimpressed with my finger pointed right at his chest.  Choji stands next to him, munching on a bag of chips he unsurprisingly sneaked on the trip.  I frown and retract my arm, holding the newly dubbed Usagi-chan to my chest.  I eye Choji.  That one would do anything for his food.

I should really stop ignoring my chakra sense.

Shikamaru stares at my new friend, “That rabbit looks pretty alive.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” I glance at the supposed genius, “I don’t see you guys toting around any dead animals.”

“Troublesome,” the boys sighs, “It’s way too much work to try to catch some animals.  They don’t expect all of us to catch one anyway.  There’s enough competent people and show offs in our class that they’ll have enough for us all.  Plus the fish that Kirihito guy is catching.”

Choji breaks in, “I also collected some nuts that grow around here.  They’re a kind that is really tasty when roasted.”

I grunt back.  A wave of sound rushes over me, and I notice that I had unconsciously been walking with them.  I realize in mild alarm that we are back at a camp full of hungry savages and I have defenseless little Usagi-chan in my arms.  The sun has almost set and dusk steals along the camp.  Tents are scattered about and a campfire roars in the middle.  Most of the students along with the single teenager are gathered around the fire.  I glare at the shadow demon out of the corner of my eye and notice a smirk edging his lips.

One day, I am going to throttle the little-

“What took you guys so long!” an obnoxious voice shouts.

Naruto is looking at us from a bit into camp, the fire further backlighting him and casting shadows across his face.  He looks thoroughly grumpy with twigs in his hair.  Kiba is next to him grinning widely.  He taunts, “Naruto-baka is just mad that he doesn’t got nuthin' after all his big talk.”

 “Shut it, dog breath!” the red head scowls back.

Kiba looks over at us with a smirk, “Oi, Shikamaru, Choji, you didn’t catch anything either?  You’re so lazy!  Akamaru and I caught three squirrels and a rabbit!” the boy puffs up in pride and turns his feral eyes to me, “Hey, you managed to catch something!  But why is your rabbit still alive?  Man, you manage to screw up everything!”

I bare my teeth at the wild haired kid opposite me.  I notice Naruto giving me a weird look and glare at him for good measure.  “In fact, you heathens-”

“Ah, welcome back you three!  It looks like you caught a rabbit! But, ah, it’s still alive?  Would you like me to kill it for you?” Homura smiles kindly.

Time freezes.

Homura appears much calmer than before, although he’s struggling to maintain the campfire at a reasonable height.  Something he’s hard pressed to do with kids enthusiastically feeding it.  He also looks much more in control than earlier today.  He appears to be leading half the class in how to gut and skin animals. 

I see that Sasuke is one of those gutting rabbits.  There is blood on his porcelain hands and I feel something uncomfortable stir in me.  Uchiha and blood. 

The older boy is looking at us smilingly, obviously trying to be a kind and supportive leader.  His notice brings the attention of the rest of my classmates.  Their eyes reflect the fire’s light and seem to glow, as if in the depths of the night I was shining a light on a swamp full of alligators.

 I know what I must do, if it comes to it.

“No, I’m good,” I say airily.

The physically older boy’s smile turns slightly awkward, “Ah, if you’re sure.  I can show you how to cleanly cut-”

“That won’t be necessary.  Usagi-chan is fine as he/she is.  Alive,” I cut him off.

Shikamaru snorts, “He/she?”

“You should respect that not everyone is bound by your gender norms, Shika-chan.”

“Whadya mean you’re not gonna kill it, Miki?  We’re supposed to be having it for dinner!” Kiba suddenly shouts, looming closer to me.

“I can do whatever I want,” I primly inform him.

“Actually he’s right, er, Miki-chan.  I know it’s sometimes hard at first, but I can help you,” Homera attempts to comfort as he walks closer to us.

I look him in the eyes and I see that there will be no compromise with this man.  Very well.

I point dramatically at him, stopping him in his steps, “And where is Iruka-sensei, huh?”

He looks thoroughly nonplussed by this non-sequitur.  Noob.  “Um, what do you mean, Miki-chan?  Remember Iruka-san went to-”

“Yes!  Iruka-sensei, chunin, left hours ago to return home one of our classmates.  Yet!  He has not returned from a job that should take an hour at most.  Our attentive, never-slack-off, Iruka-sensei?”

I have caught the attention of the rest of the class and they draw closer, forming a loose semi-circle around the brunette.  The sun has nearly disappeared from behind the tree tops, casting darkness across our camp.  There is only the hint of a wedge of the moon in the sky and the cloudy sky obscures most of the stars.  With the singular light of the campfire at their back my classmates cast dark shadows towards us, Homura falling directly in their path.  Blood drips from some of their arms, the red catching the light of the fire.

He seems a bit nervous again.

“Er, Ah-”

I don’t let him speak, “On top of this, your compatriot has not yet returned from his trip.  Two hours to get some fish and water?  That seems a bit farfetched.”

The shadows loom closer.

Homera is sweating now, “No, you see, Kirihito, he-”

“What do we really know about you, Homera-san? We just met you today; know only that you are a career genin that volunteered to help with the annual academy survival trip.  An event widely dreaded to be picked to help with.  On top of that, instead of volunteering to take back little Aiko-chan, you let Iruka-sensei leave.  You are left alone with us.  You are left alone with a bunch of eight year olds only two years into training.  A class of kids not yet ninja.  A class full of Clan Heirs.”

Tense silence hovers over our camp.  One wrong move and something will snap.

Homera makes a wrong move.

He jerks, one of his hands going down in a way that could be construed as going for a weapon pouch.

A war cry rings out and I’m not sure who the first to lunge is.  Suddenly a mass of small dark shapes leap on top of Homera.  His startled cry is drowned out by the yells of two dozen children.  Naruto whoops, never one to miss assaulting an authority figure, and joins the fray.  I see the glint of ninja wire wrapped around his fingers.  Kiba howls, eyes feral, and also runs into the swirling mass with Akamaru at his heels.

See, Clan kids are always cautioned to be weary of kidnappings.  There is always someone who wants to steal the secrets of their bloodlines.  The children are always the easiest targets and most at risk.  This ingrained fact on top of being outside the village for the first time?  Along with having a virtual stranger as the only adult around?  The tension was already there, I just needed to exploit it.  Even the non-Clan kids, like me, will hop into a fight if there’s a threat of this nature.  In this situation we are disposable and that much more likely to be killed.

Lil Homera, veteran genin he may be, is both thrown off his guard, reluctant to fight children, and has to deal with twenty odd ninja-in-training.  Add on top the fact that if he actually injures an Heir that he might be killed for real, well, it’s better to not fight back.

I hug Usagi-chan to my chest and am satisfied at my rabbit’s safety.  I hear a snort from besides me.

“So do you think any of them will realize that Aiko clearly was going to refuse to be carried, plus being distraught, would mean Iruka-sensei was probably going to take hours?  She also was home sick and would have refused to leave with a stranger.  Kirihito-san obviously intended to leave Homera to deal with us himself.  It is pretty impressive that the only straight out lie you told was that we knew that he volunteered for this,” Shikamaru drawls out, eyes halfway closed and shoulders slouching.  Next to him Choji never pauses eating.

“What, do ya want a cookie?” I mutter, keeping my eyes on the “fight”.

I see kids start to settle down and witness the aftermath of my subtle manipulation.  It appears Naruto put that wire to good use, as Homera is tied up so tight he couldn’t hope to move a muscle without being cut.  Everyone grows restless now that the initial surge is over.  The threat is nullified, but the question of what to do now comes.

I step in, “Eh, Ino-chan it looks like you’re up now!”

The blonde looks at me, her blue eyes slightly confused at being called out.  Then her eyes firm as realization sets in.  She nods firmly, crosses her arms, and takes charge.  She looks at a (is he crying?) bewildered Homera in the eye, “I can’t believe you tried to take advantage of our kindness like that, Homera-san!  We were all really getting along, and you go and betray us!”

Agreeing yells drown out Homera’s frantic disagreement and Ino continues, “My daddy is the best interrogator ever and he teaches me some things,” she stops for a dramatic pause, “Things you won’t enjoy Homera-san,” if possible the boy pales further.  Ino turns around to her surrounding classmates, “Don’t worry everyone!  I’ll find out why he’s here and what he did to Iruka-sensei and Kirihito-san!  Ami-chan, Kaori-chan, stay with me.  Hinata-san, could you stay too?  Everyone else, clear out!  I’ve got work to do.”

Man, I do not envy Homera his position.  I rile up the girl often enough, but I never earn such a determined look in her eye.  I’m sure that look could break ninja harder than this gangly teenager. 

Oh well, it’s either Homera’s mental wellbeing or Usagi-chan’s life.  What’s a bit of trauma to an innocent life?

As kids begin to wander away from our bound captive, I see Hinata look confusedly at Ino as the blonde girl ushers her forward.  Hinata takes one more look towards my direction, looking in parts hesitant, exasperated, and suspicious (what a look on an kid) before bowing to Ino’s coaxing and turns her attention to whatever the girl is saying. 

“Well then.  Gentlemen,” I excuse myself from Choji and the Bothersome One’s presences and trek further into camp, confidently toting Usagi-chan.  In all the hubbub me having a live rabbit will seem like old news.

Well, almost no one cares anymore.

“Oi, Miki, why do ya still got that rabbit?”

And here I find myself staring down a savage beast.  Ino and lackeys interrogating a teary eyed Homera (now that I think about it, where did Hinata go?).  I’m still not quite sure of the exact reason why Naruto and Sasuke are fighting, but they don’t really need one.

Kiba takes another step towards me, incisors gleaming. 

“I swear Kitty Queen, I will-”

“What the fuck is going on here!”

Activity in the camp stops, all eyes going to the part livid part bewildered figure of Iruka-sensei.  He stands there with Hinata at his side, eyes wide and mouth agape.  His eyes take in the absolute chaos engulfing the camp until he finally lands on Homera.  The freckled boy appears to be weeping from relief.

Well, there is only one thing I can say to fill the silence of the campground.

“Language.”

Chapter Text

Sunlight filters through the window and warms the wooden floor I lay on.  I stretch, reaching over my head to pull Usagi-chan closer to me.  Usagi-chan had been voted to be allowed to join the Hana tribe, old drunks luckily not being allowed to vote. 

He (as it turns out) seems to enjoy living in the orphanage well enough.  He gets lots of food bits fed to him (I firmly let everyone know he is a vegetarian magical girl and not a carnivorous Hannibal) and is rather tolerant of the little ones tugging him around.  Actually he is a lot less jumpy around humans than he should be.  Usagi-chan is just a little enigma. 

Besides the addition of Usagi-chan to the orphanage, there were a few other consequences to the Academy Uprising.  Homera appears to have quit being a shinobi altogether and moved onto a quieter life.  The annual Academy Wilderness Survival camp has also been cancelled for our class for the years to come.  I can’t say I didn’t giggle a bit when that fortuitous bit of news reached my ears.

Ino’s dad was also appropriately appreciative of his little girl’s efforts and bought her a set of the purple kunai she has been wanting.  Never let it be said that all of the parents in the Naruto world are neglectful. 

Iruka-sensei didn’t even properly scold us.  After the initial yelling, freeing of Homera, and making us march double time back to the village, he seems to deflate of energy.  Feeling a bit responsible, I inform him, “We’d never doubt you like that Iruka-sensei.”  Usagi-chan even gave a supportive squeak from my arms.

He didn’t respond, though his complexion seemed a bit green. 

So here we are, a few days later.  I believe it is a Tuesday.  Perhaps a Wednesday.  I didn’t go to school for the past few days either way.  I must go tomorrow, as Ran passed Iruka-sensei the other day and he informed her that we had sparring I couldn’t miss tomorrow.

Huzzah.

Beating up on children.  Children beating up on me.  My favorite.

It could go either way depending on who I’m fighting with.  While it’s a bit of an ego bruiser to get beat up by an eight year old, it’s not like I’d ever even thrown a real punch in my past life.  Throw my entire body weight at someone in a soccer match, sure.  But usually winning a spar takes a bit more finesse than that.  Sometimes.  Shino sure as hell wasn’t expecting it the first time I did that. 

That being said I’m not completely useless at martial arts.  Fist fighting.  Taijutsu.  Whatever it’s called.  I’ve always been a rather durable human and I can roll with the punches.  Literally.  I hadn’t done gymnastics for a while before I died, but I remembered all the things I could do.  Even if I didn’t have that muscle memory, I still remembered how tumbling felt.  I regretted letting all that flexibility and upper body strength fade, so that was one thing I bothered to start on in the beginning of this life.

 By now, with my chakra imbued body, I am way ahead of where I was at this age the first time around.  I can pull aerials and front tucks like nobody’s business.  Is it safe for me to have practiced these without a spotter or even real mats?  Hell no.  But I didn’t die. 

Orochimaru is also obligated to heal some of the more severe injuries I pick up at our why-do-we-even-have-these-things sessions or he would look bad.  My loving Bro of course doesn’t use any chakra numbing agents when he does it so healings hurts like a bitch, but I’m sure it is to build character.  He cares about me like that.

The point is it’s very hard to hurt something you can’t catch.  The smooth movements of tumbling are a bit at odds with my urge to just falcon punch the shit out of someone in a fight, but it works out.

Sometimes.

Usagi-chan nibbles on my hand and I let him go.  He hops towards the door and out of my room.  Happily, the other kids I share my room with are still playing outside or in the play room, so I am left alone.

Unfortunately boredom sets in fast.

It’s still a bit of an odd sensation to be honest.  I was never really bored in my last life; I always had something to do.  Mostly, I read.  I read so much I think that’s what I did the majority of my life – even more than sleep.  Unfortunately fiction is kinda lacking here and I kinda didn’t really bother to learn kanji/hiragana too well.  I knew a bit from my last life, but I didn’t bother studying too hard here.  What was the point?

Admittedly, I regret that a bit now.  Me being a bad reader would have been the biggest joke in the world to my past self.

If I didn’t read, I had the internet to entertain me.  No internet, I had friends to bother and laugh with.  If nothing else, then I’d draw.  My mom told me I started “drawing” before I could even walk, as much as random crayon scribbles could be considered as such.  I had enjoyed art long before I took an interest in reading, and I don’t think I would have ever stopped.  It was a part of me.

I hadn’t drawn once in this life.  I picked up a pencil and put it to paper, put there was nothing there. 

So I am bored and none of my old hobbies can keep me occupied.  I tap my fingers on the floor and think of nothing in particular.  Without much thought I let chakra bubble to the surface of my hand.  The bluish light suffuses around my hand and I idly study it.

Chakra is nonsensical, if you hadn’t understood that yet.  It can take the form of an intangible force behind the power of a jutsu or just float around as natural chakra.  When you summon it, it can appear simply as a light wave.  Jinchuuriki chakra, specifically taken from their bijuu, is tangible and toxic.  It is almost like a noxious gas, but more liquid.  I suppose the closest element to it would be plasma – a bit like fire.  It can contain its own shape while simultaneously is not something solid enough that you could rest something on it.  And mess with it; oh boy, will you get burned

 Bijuu themselves are a bit of a conundrum.  They are creatures composed solely of chakra.  How does that even work?  They have bodies seemingly made of flesh – solid and apparently not composed of any of the basic building blocks of typical life.  They do not contain, water, protein, sodium, calcium, or anything other living creatures have.  Not to mention, do they even have cells?  Protons?  Neutrons?  Is chakra even composed of atoms?

Usually, the ideas of chakra particles being a separate entity would be fine.  I’d think of it a bit like a light photon.  It even mimics or either emits the same properties of light.  Light, along with sound, also moves in waves, like chakra.  If it weren’t for the fact that there were actual chakra constructs that mimic real life and the fact that we could condense it into a solid like soldier pills, I could think it was simply another aspect of natural order in this world.  But no, chakra seems to break its own rules, nonetheless nature’s.

This is, of course, ignoring that it also fuels bullshit magic techniques.

Really, despite my Evil Science Bro’s valiant efforts, I’m not sure if there’s a way to really quantify chakra.  It actually makes absolutely no sense unless you accept that it’s a law unto itself.

I have taken to believing that there is really nothing you can’t do with chakra.  I don’t understand why people are surprised with some of the techniques or capabilities they come across.  I mean, within the village we have the Sharingan, the ultimate of all ultimate OP bullshit things.  I guess most people don’t know quite to the extent of how ridiculous it is, but it’s there. 

But anyway, this puts me in the frame of mind that any of the things my teachers have told me is out of the range of charka’s abilities simply haven’t been done yet.  They attempt to set limits and I ignore them.

Besides that my chakra is really weird.  Even for chakra.

I let the form of the chakra clinging tightly to my hand go and it oozes between my fingers.  It reminds be a bit of really liquidy clear silly putty.  If I wanna be totally underwhelming.

I slowly direct the chakra to move so that it forms a line and slowly crawls over the floor.  It’s basically chakra strings but less refined.  The line grows thinner as it crawls across the room until it can’t grow anymore. 

Here’s the tricky part.

Carefully, keeping my full concentration on it, I let the chakra detach from my hand.

“Dammit.”

The chakra quickly dissipates and I am left staring mulishly at the bare floor.  I still cannot understand why my raw chakra dissipates if not in direct contact with my chakra system.  It doesn’t make any sense!  Clones and many other jutsu survive just fine working independently!  What’s so different between raw chakra and chakra within jutsu?

I sigh loudly before giving up for the day.  I’ll do my daily stretches then see what the older kids rustled up for dinner.  Better get some energy for the super fun beat downs tomorrow!

I grunt as a hand shoots out at me and I backbend under it.  The girl had overstretched and can’t dodge as my legs shoot up and wrap around her arm.

As my legs wrap around her arm my arms push up so I am in a handstand.  I can hear her gasp and see the confusion and slight panic in her face between the obnoxious strands of hair in my face.  She attempts to remove her arm but she is too slow and I have calves of steel. 

My arm muscles bulge as I twist my torso, my legs following the vicious movement.  The girl yelps as she is twisted around and then whipped to the ground when I throw my legs down.  The girl faceplants and I push off the ground with my hand to follow the momentum and twist so I land splayed across her back, arm still between my calves.  My unwieldy hair covers my right eye and my torso is on the other girl’s while my upper body kisses to ground.

Nailed it.

What’s-her-face screeches and there is a good chance I at least dislocated her shoulder. 

She can blame Iruka-sensei.  I wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t ratted me out to Ran. 

“Sensei!  Is she even allowed to do that?!” I hear one of purple-haired girl’s friends screech. 

There is no reply and my body is suddenly lifted up under my elbows and a male voice sternly says, “Release her arm, Miki.”  I compliantly release the appendage and am subsequently set aside as the brunette man checks on the crying child.

She warbles that she is going to die and Iruka gently attempts to placate her as he checks her arm.  “It looks like your arm socket got dislocated, Ami-kun.  I should be able to set it,” here her cries ascend to wails, “but you should go see nurse Yun to make sure nothing else is wrong.  Could you escort her Aiko-kun?” 

As the two girls hobble off, Iruka’s eyes turn to me.  I stare innocently back.

A sigh, “Miki-kun, you recall that this is supposed to be a friendly spar.  You are not supposed to seriously hurt your classmates.”

“I may or may not recall such a fact.”

“You could have broken Ami’s arm with a move like that if you had held on at her elbow junction or had more strength behind you.”

“Noted.”

“This was also supposed to be a spar focused around and only around the katas we have been learning recently.”

“I recognized that the council had made a decision, but given that it was a stupid-ass decision, I've elected to ignore it.”

“Detention after school tomorrow, Miki-kun,” Iruka sighs, hand sliding down his face.  Iruka, you wily fox, you’re going to tell Ran today so she’ll nag the hell outta me if I don’t go, won’t you?  You have come far, young grasshopper.

I walk over to the sidelines.  Many of Ami’s friends glare at me (I stick my middle finger up at them.  Ha).  Although, despite the fact that they are allegedly super great friends, Ino appears to be snickering a little bit.  I take my place and pretend not to notice when several students scoot away from me.  Ah, it is good to be bad.

A while goes by as several dull by-the-book spars play out before I feel an itching on the side of my head.  Someone is watching me.  I scratch my chin and very casually turn my gaze to my right.  Two dark eyes catch mine.

Why the hell is Uchiha Sasuke staring holes into my head?

“Gasp!” I gasp.

Mayhaps the little Uchiha is in fact in lurve with mwah?  Alas!  Poor Sasu-chan, so adorable of face yet so young of age!  It is not meant to be, young ducketh of head, for I am not a pedophile.  Such a sad life you lead, that your first love be unrequited.

Yet!  For some reason I do not believe that is love I see in those…(a pause to think of an appropriate phrase) obsidian pools of night.  (Man I could totes run Jiraiya out of business).  Oh, nope.  That is definitely some kind of revulsion twisting his face.  My face has always been an open book; I kinda wish I had a mirror right now.

But the mystery continues!  If not for the love of the awesome me, why would the young boy be gazing so steadily at me?  Perhaps…perhaps it is the purple one he loves!  Le gasp!  Sasuke you cheating whore!  I have done nothing but love and support you, and this is how you repay me?  In love with my mortal enemy, the purple one, and bound to avenge her in a duel to the death with me?  For shame, Sasu-chan, for shame.

I sadly shake my head at the traitorous boy and he scowls back in confusion before glaring firmly back at the spars.  It appears that our duel to the death will not be had quite yet.  Which is a bit underwhelming honestly – you should really have duels for honor while the iron is still hot.

Ah well, he shall learn.

 Another half hour passes before we are instructed to take a ten minute break then head to our normal classroom for lecture.  I figure I am no longer needed as the spars were done, but Iruka-sensei once again proves it wit by instructing Hinata to escort me to the classroom.

I sigh dramatically but obligingly let her keep tabs on me and educate her on the wonders of dango.  We meander to the classroom where about half the class is congregated.  Two minutes after our allotted break time everyone is gathered except Iruka himself.  We quickly take advantage of this to do whatever we want. 

I choose a seat in the second to last row, Hinata apparently choosing to sit next to me today.  I hum absentmindedly and tap my nails on the desk, deciding whether or not I want to deface school property today.  Hinata sat quietly next to me, hands folded neatly on her desk.  Despite the lavender-eyed girl’s apparent peace I could sense her chakra twitch with unresolved tension.

Finally she turns to me and opens her mouth, only to be cut off.

“Hey. Crazy.”

I turn my eyes to squint at Sasuke.  Did he really think it was an appropriate time to honor duel now?

“Wassup Sasu-chan?  I didn’t think you’d pick now to duel for the honor of your true love.”

The Uchiha turns an interesting shade of purple, eye twitching, “What are you even-” he breathes and collects himself, “Tch.  How did you do that move in your spar?  You’re an orphan so no one could have taught you.”

Well fuck you too pretty boy.  You also may be an orphan after too long.

…Well that was actually a really piss poor thing for me to think.  We’re just going to ignore that thought.

“Faith, trust, and pixie dust.”

He looks rather close to throwing a tantrum but with a quick glance to my side instead spits out a “loser” and huffily makes his way to his seat at the front of the class.

I turn to Hinata, “Some people, amiright?”

She smiles weakly but genuinely, “Uchiha-san was very rude to you when he was trying to ask you a question.”

I got the impression that my sweet little Hinata-chan was a bit fudged off at the black haired boy.  It occurs to me that she is also an orphan and she may have taken a bit of offense to the boy’s insensitivity. 

I go to make a possibly disastrous half-assed attempt at comforting her before hands slam down on my desk.  I’m not gonna lie; I am a bit relieved.

“What was Sasuke-kun talking to you about?!”

“Yeah!  He was even staring at you a lot during practice!”

“Does Sasuke-kun,” a pause of disgust, “like you?”

A  swarm of wild fangirls appear. 

Ino heads the charge with NPC fangirls 1-6 backing her up.  I see various other girls in the class keeping a sharp eye on the conversation.  It seems Ino has determined that overwhelming numbers is not always an asset; too much uncontrolled chaos.  A nice seven on one (or two if we count Hinata) seems intimidating enough.

I take a minute to let their baseless accusations set in.  I then give them the most honestly deadpan face I have given in this life, “Uchiha Sasuke.  Likes me.  Me.”

Obviously he loves the Purple One.  Pfft.

Seriously though, that has to be the stupidest accusation ever thrown at me.  Do they live on this plane of reality?  Hell, they could live in Alpha’s plane of reality and Sasuke’s indifference to romance would be the same.  I’m still gunning for his asexuality.  Or homosexuality.  Possible Naruto-sexuality.  Also, we’re eight.

The silence stretches out and I hear a few boyish snickers in the background.  The girls have the grace to look immediately chagrined.  Ino sighs and leans against my desk, pupiless eyes open and pleading, “I guess that was a bit crazy of us, huh, Miki-chan?  But you gotta understand!  Sasuke-kun isn’t mean, but he never talks to anyone!  Besides arguing with Naruto.  If he talked to Hinata-san,” she nods her head in acknowledgment to the quiet girl on my left, “We could understand, since she’s one of the only ones on his level.  But he talked to you!  We had to jump to conclusions, you see?  We couldn’t let someone swoop in a steal him!” 

While I’m not quite sure I follow her logic, I suppose I can understand eight-year-old non-logic.  I am about to wave her off when I think of purple girl falling so easily to my sloppy moves.  I only train half-assed and most of these girls, except notably the Clan Heir Ino, are worse than me at fighting.  If things go similarly to Alpha, they will be just as awful when they’re twelve.  While most of them won’t even make it to the jounin-sensei track, that doesn’t mean it’s fine to be awful genin corps members.  Lord knows if we’ll have something like Alpha’s invasions, especially with Orochimaru in village, but most of them were probably slaughtered in that universe.

I don’t know these girls.  I don’t remember their names and barely their faces.  I don’t care.  They could die and I wouldn’t feel a thing.

 I’m not sure I’d care if anyone here died.

But looking at the group, I have a whim.  Whether it pans out, well, who could tell?  But I suppose it would help assuage any guilt I may feel in the future and it’d help me face God if I ever made it to Him next time around.

Plus feminism.  And revenge. 

I nod solemnly then lean forward furtively.  Ino and the others instinctually do the same, “Of course, of course, Ino-chan!  You can’t let some usurper steal your Sasu-chan from you!  Ah but, don’t you see?  You already said your solution!”

“Eh, what you are talking about?” brunette fangirl #1 asks.

“There is only power and those too weak to seek it,” I say solemnly.

Most of their faces screw up in annoyance or confusion, but Ino raises a regal hand, eyes intent on me, “explain.”

I flourish my hand towards the befuddled girl next to me, “Ya thought Sasuke woulda talked to Hinata-chan because she’s strong, right?” Nods, “Well, he was askin’ me about that move on Ami!  You implied it earlier, remember Ino?”

Ino’s eyes light up in revelation, “Sasuke-kun likes girls who are strong.”

This causes a flurry of whispers between the gathered girls.  They all look like they have found the meaning of life and are unsure of what to do with it. 

“So we have to train a lot?” green haired fangirl #2 queries.

“But then we have less time to be with Sasuke-kun,” black haired #3 whines.

“Yeah, what if some other girl is with him when we’re not there!” #4 gasps in horror.

I snap my fingers and point at her, making her jump, “Exactly!”

“Exactly what Miki-chan?” Ino asks, obviously the spokesperson of the group.

“You need to make a formal group,” I announce, steepling my hands.  I get dubious looks in return.

I continue, “You’re officially the Sasuke Fan Club, right?  But you spend more time fighting each other than working together.  And this is where you will foil yourselves!”

“What?” #2 questions.

“While you’re fighting each other, some other girl will swoop in and take him right from under your nose!”

Gasps.

I lean forward earnestly, really getting into it, “You’re part of Sasu’s class, right?  You know him best!  Some other girl wouldn’t treat him right- he’d end up miserable!”

Outrage shouts in protest against this imaginary girl arise.  Sasuke’s current glare is about 10x what I have ever experienced before.

“So here is your problem: you need to practice to keep strong, but you also need to keep an eye on Sasuke to make sure no scarlet woman comes and steals him away.  Stalk- I mean, keeping an eye on him mob-style like you’ve been doing is very inefficient, right?  So, you need a schedule!  I’m thinking two people, so one can run and get the others if something happens.  That way the rest of you can work without worry.”

Murmurs break out among the collected girls and I can see that they see the value in my suggestion. 

#5 speaks up, “But I hate taijutsu and I’m no good at it.  Does that mean Sasuke will never love me?”

They all turn to me and I shrug, “There are different ways to be strong.  You wouldn’t even need to physically fight someone if he already dropped dead from poison, right?”

It says something that they find that sensible rather than disturbing.

#5 is apparently satisfied with my response and turns excitedly to the others.  Ino observes them for a minute before closing her eyes in contemplation.  The other girls soon quiet down and turn to Ino for her edict.

Ino keeps her eyes closed for another few seconds in quiet deliberation before opening them in a flash of determined blue.  She fluidly stands from her crouched position and raises a hand, “Sasuke Fan-Club, we have a new mission!”  There are cheers from around the classroom and she waits until they fade, “We will have an emergency meeting in the courtyard in two minutes to discuss our new direction,” she clenches her fist and passionately exclaims, “We will not fail our Sasuke-kun, girls!”

Well hello there Cult Leader Ino-sama.

There is another collective cheer and all of the girls in the class beside Hinata, Ino, and I file out.  As they leave, Ino turns to me, “You know, you’re pretty crazy most of the time Miki-chan, but you’re also pretty wise.

I nod knowingly, “There is a fine line between genius and crazy, Ino-chan.”

She nods sharply and turns to make her own exit.  The males of the class watch her go, completely bewildered.  I think Sasuke may combust over there.  In anger or despair, I couldn’t tell.  The Nuisance appears to be disabled by wracking laughter.  Good. That means he won’t bother me today.  Who says no good deed goes unpunished?

A hand softly taps my shoulder, “That was very nice of you, Miki-chan.  Training more will enable them to survive in the future.”

I turn to Hinata in confusion, “I dunno what you’re talking about Hinata-chan.  I’m merely worried for Sasuke’s continued innocence and safety.”

Despite my words her smile doesn’t waver and she reaches for her pocket and she goes to say something.

It was about then that Iruka comes in and notices half his class is missing.

“Why?”

I stretch my arms and can’t help but feel that it has been a good day overall.

I mosey out with the throngs of students, this being one of the rare days I leave with the rest of the school.  The Academy gets out around three and the sun is still high in the sky.  The weather is very nice and I consider chilling in the park for a while.  Maybe I’ll grab some carrots from the market for Usagi-chan.

I’m passing the outer limits of the Academy when I hear a hiss, “you.”

“Ah yes, it is the Magical Me, Sasu-chan.  How nice of you to notice.” 

If Sasuke could take all of the red in his face and transfer it to his eyes, he’d have a nice base for some Sharingan.  Or he’d look super high, depending on which part of the eye the red was in.

I think the boy may actually resort to violent means considering I just helped his fangirls organize themselves.  I eye him warily and try to determine at which point I should run.  Eight years old or not, the kid could hand me my ass once he got a hold of me.  Luckily, I’m hella fast and I can outpace him if it got down to it.

Sasuke’s hands fist and my legs tense in anticipation before the tension is cut, “Otouto?”

“Nii-san!” Sasuke cries, forgetting my existence immediately and running up next to his brother.  He doesn’t hug his leg or arm, but it is a near thing.  I’m pretty sure maintaining his respected Uchiha image is the only thing that is stopping him.  The adoration in his eyes is honestly  a bit endearing.

Itachi smiles down at his little brother, “I got home from my mission a bit early this morning and offered to pick you up from school.”

“That’s great!  You’ve been gone forever Itachi!  I know you have to train hard because you’re the best ninja ever, but you should spend time with us too.  Could you train with me later?” Sasuke babbles excitedly.

Suddenly, the younger boy’s spine straightens as if he abruptly remembers where he is.  His head snaps towards me and he scowls thunderously from his brother’s side.  It’s like I’ve committed some cardinal skin.  This is a public space Sasu-chan; you’re free to geek out about your brother all you want, but us Plebs are still free to breathe the same air as you.

Itachi follows his line of sight and dark his eyes alight upon me as if he hadn’t known my exact location and the number of breaths I’ve taken since I entered his line of sight.  “Oh, who is this Sasuke?  One of your friends?”

It’s obvious his brother is teasing, but Sasuke still hisses out a furious “no” of denial.

I’m hurt.

My eyes lock onto the older Uchiha’s.  Is it bad to say that I’m a bit terrified?  Man, I wish it wouldn’t look too suspicious to close my eyes so I couldn’t get caught in Mind-Fuck-no-Jutsu.  If I had sunglasses he wouldn’t notice.  Sunglasses would protect me both from the sun and being sucked into a hell vision.  Sunglasses. 

I spy his chakra and see that he definitely cares for his brother.  A person’s chakra tends to react a certain way when they’re around someone they care for.  Maybe the word I’m looking for is peaceful?  It’s hard to describe.  His chakra is also a bit dark and roiling.  Except it’s only tumultuous at its center.  The surface of it is as matte and flat as a silent night, or a still pond.

Still, most upper level ninja’s chakra is a bit menacing.  Hell, he’s an ANBU captain at thirteen already if I’m remembering right.  He also may or may not be dealing with his family’s attempt at a coup and his subsequent need to slaughter them all.

But I think that was already supposed to happen.  Sasuke’s going on nine in a few months and I thought the massacre happened when he was seven/eightish.  Or maybe it was eight/nine-ish?  Either way, Itachi was supposed to have distanced himself for quite a while beforehand, yet here he stands.  The two brothers seem as close as ever and he doesn’t look like he’s about to have a psychotic break.  Which I assume even a genius would look like when forced to pick either their family or their Village.

“Ah, no.  I am not a friend so much a love guru.  Young Sasuke faces much strife in his love life.”

“Hn.  You never told me you were interested in dating, otouto.”

Sasuke is suitably outraged, hastily informing his brother that I am a lying liar who lies.

Itachi looks at me a bit longer.  Actually, he’s looking longer than normal.  I can’t tell what he’s thinking at all considering he seems to have his facial features on lockdown.  Sasuke tugs at him and a smile once again slides across his face, “Well, it was nice to meet you Miki-san.  Let’s go home Sasuke.  I’ll train with you a bit before dinner.”

Sasuke flashes me one more stink eye before enthusiastically following his brother. 

So, Uchiha Itachi knows my name before being introduced to me.  Cool, cool.  I’m sure there is a perfectly logical explanation for that.

Better go hide underneath my covers.

“Miki-san!”

“I’m sorry Miki isn’t home right now.  Leave a message and- oh, it’s just you Hinata,” I sigh in relief.  It’s one thing if someone comes up and stabs me.  It’s another to live with the anxiety of people playing games of intrigue.  I hate feeling stress. 

Hinata smiles one of her confused smiles, but it ultimately warms into a genuine one, “You left so quickly that I couldn’t talk to you, Miki-san.  It took me a couple minutes to catch up with you.”

I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms behind my back and trying to forget my last encounter, “Oh?  What’s crackin cinnamon bun?”

“One day you should explain to me what a cinnamon bun is.  But, ah,” she digs into her pocket and gently pulls out something white, “I have something for you, Miki-san.”

I hesitantly take the cloth from her and see that it’s a soft white ribbon.  I look up to her confusedly.  To my surprise, she flushes a bit and fidgets nervously, “I noticed that your hair gets in your way during spars.  I thought you might like something to keep it out of the way.  I thought it was cute, but, but don’t feel like you have to wear it!  I’m sorry if this was presumptuous of me-!”

“Hinata,” I cut her off, “No, it’s great, I love it.”

A warm feeling lights my chest and I’m surprised to find that I’m smiling at her genuinely.  It’s the first time I’ve done that in a while.  It is also the first time I was given something selflessly in this universe.  I immediately attempt to tie the ribbon around my head, hands struggling to form a messy knot.

“There, how does it look?”  One of the uneven ribbon tails falls into my eye.

Hinata giggles and comes forward, “I can help you if you would like, Miki-san.  I help my imouto put on ribbons often.”

I accept and let her fiddle cautiously with my hair, smile remaining in place no matter how I try to fight it.

Yeah, today was a good day.

Agent Badger glides through the night, hopping silently rooftop to rooftop.  He is a bit annoyed that it had taken him so long to be able to report in, but his latest mission was a bit of a fiasco and he had to wait until everything calmed down a bit.  Even then, he left a bushin in his bed just in case anyone wanted to make sure he is where he is supposed to be.

With that snake Orochimaru slithering around there is no such thing as too cautious.

He swiftly makes his way into a familiar building on the outskirts of the city.  It belongs to a fifty year old alcoholic and long retired career chunin.  He also happens to be an ex ROOT agent.  Or current one, Badger supposes; there isn’t really such a thing as ex ROOT agents. 

Considering the man subtly guards one of ROOT’s underground entrances under the guise of banality, he is still doing his part in upholding ROOT’s mission.  Badger slips into the house, swiftly making his way down to the cellar.  He slides a crate full of saki off a seemingly innocuous space of cement floor.  A few dozen hand seals reveals the hidden door in the ground.  Stale air wafts up from the hole. 

The agent creates a bushin then runs down the tunnel, feeling when his duplicate dispels after leaving the basement as if he had never come. 

Badger swiftly continued down the labyrinth of tunnels, feeling the tug of security seals verify his identity as he passed.  He passes a few of his fellow agents, but many of them prefer not to be seen.  ROOT isn’t a very friendly bunch.  Danzo-sama doesn’t encourage any camaraderie outside of cooperation during missions and they thusly don’t go out of their way to foster any unnecessary bonds. 

The man finally arrives outside his destination and politely knocks on the large oaken door.  After a moment passes, a swift “come in” beckons him further into his master’s domain.

He flickers in and kneels before the great desk in the middle of the dim room.  Although he cannot sense them, he knows several agents are scattered throughout the cavern.  Only the most trusted and skilled are charged with the task of guarding Danzo-sama.  Badger couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous that he would never reach the level needed.

While being at the level of a career genin held its value in enhancing subterfuge, it also closed doors for him in other matters.

“Rise, agent Badger,” an old yet strong voice urges him.

Badger straightens and beholds his superior.  Danzo sits behind the large desk, its bulk making him appear deceptively fragile.  That is the image the man meticulously cultivates: a wizened elder, once strong but weakened with the test of time. Most could never imagine that he could still snap the necks of many top shinobi before they had time to blink.  Truly, being in his presence is humbling.

“Why has there been such a delay between when you were supposed to report and now, agent?” the older man questions evenly.

“Due to the incident that occurred during the mission and the high profile members involved, many of the Clan Heads believed it warranted investigation, no matter how harmless it appeared.  I retained my outside identity for the time necessary for the scrutiny to pass so that I may come report to you discreetly, Danzo-sama,” Badger answers.

Danzo nods readily, having already known his answer.  He rasps, “Report.”

“Sir.  Agent Badger, outside alias Kirihito Haru, reporting from the Academy Survival assignment.  Agent was sent to assess the upcoming generation and consider the acquirement of the Uchiha secondary heir and Interest 236, name Miki.  Agent was simultaneously to monitor the students’ progress on their exercises, focusing upon Heirs.  Agent was also to determine if the Uchiha had yet gained his Sharingan, and if so, acquire him.  Interest 236 was to be acquired if deemed high benefit.” He pauses and Danzo signals him to continue.

“Actions: Agent left the grounds under guise of procuring fish. Agent monitored Heirs including Uchiha.  The Uchiha’s skills could not be properly appraised as he was beleaguered by a horde of female students.  Other persons of interest were monitored throughout a hunting exercise. Result: Agent’s actions interfered with and terminated upon child uprising.  Uprising was instigated by Interest 236 who insinuated one Homera Adeki held malintent against the Heirs.  Interest later justified her actions as a mere whim to save a rabbit.  Assessment: Interest 236 was aware of my intent and set upon the genin as a warning and method to return to the relative safety of the village,” the sometimes Kirihito reports.

The elder makes no outward indication that he has heard his agent before humming after a few moments, “It is as we assessed.  Interest 236 appears to have the rare ability to sense intentions through her chakra sense.  This was a test of that, but I had little hope it would turn out to be so.  She has also proven to be as intelligent as reported and more inclined to subterfuge than expected.  We will have another opportunity to ascertain the potential of the Heirs, but I am pleased with the information on Interest 236.”

The man is silent for a few moments before he states, “Dismissed, Badger.”

With this dismissal Danzo is left in the seemingly empty room.  Soon, three figures ooze from the shadows.  Danzo pays them no mind as he muses aloud, “Interest 236 shall be a great asset to us.  We will move for her soon.”

Chapter Text

Did you know there are consequences to your actions?

Yeah, I’m surprised too.

I squint at the figure in front of me, “Ya want me to do what?”

Ino crosses her arms impatiently, “I want you to be a, uh, consultant,” she stumbles a bit over the word, “For the Sasuke-kun Fan Club.”

“Ah, no.”

“You won’t be an actual member of course,” Ino steamrolls on, “but we all voted to let you participate on the condition that you learn a thing or two.”

Well wasn’t the Sasuke Fan Club just a budding bastion of democracy?

“How about no.”

“I mean,” Ino continues, “I don’t think you’ve even come to Kunoichi class once.  Which, you know, is totally not allowed, but I think Suzume-sensei is kinda relieved about it.  But anyway!  Miki-chan, you gotta be more elegant if you are going to hang out with us!”

“Well considering I’m not gonna, I’m totally good with remaining an artless plebe.”  Plus, a bunch of eight year old girls are hardly elegant.  Maybe Ino on one of her really good “Cult-Leader Ino-Sama” days.   

The blond girl once again completely ignores me, “So we’re going to help you become totally cute and awesome and in return you can help us organize!  We can help you dress cute and look good when fighting!  We know the best places to buy cheongsams, kunoichi skirts, and Aiko-chan was thinking of wearing our hair different for certain days.

“Do you wear pink on Wednesdays?”

She gives me an odd look then lifts her nose in the air, “Pink is a totally immature color not fit for a maturing kunoichi in training.  Purple is much better.”

Well, can’t argue with her on the last point.

Then she grins at me and I feel that running would be the best life choice at this point.  She leans forward, eyes sparkling, “We can even teach you how to flirt and look cute so you get whatever you want!  Ami-chan and Meiko-chan are really good at it.  Megumi-chan is the best at tracking down things she’s heard about at stores – and finding Sasuke-kun. I,” her grin impossibly increases, “can help you learn every kind of flower and which one’s best for letting your feelings come across! Or poisoning someone without anyone ever finding out!”

I stare at her, squinting my eyes, “I don’t think you ever really asked me to join so much as told me I was.”

“Exactly.”

The girl’s hand lashes out, her sparkling lavender fingernails digging into my skin.  She then proceeds to drag me where she pleases.  Let me tell you: I don’t know about Alpha Ino, but Beta is no pushover in the strength department.

I dig in my heels but it is no use.  I know the end is near.  “I am too young and beautiful to die now!  Take Naruto instead!”

(A distant “Hey!” ghosts on the wind)

The blonde child scoffs, “We’re not ending you Miki-chan.  We’re improving you.  Didn’t you say in one of your ramblings, ‘sometimes things must end to begin again’?  Or something like that.”

I gape in horror at having an eight your old sling my words of wisdom back at me, “I told that to Choji when I stole the last of his chips!  Not the same!”

“It was totally dumb though!  Choji almost ate you.”

“Dark times.”

I soon give up on fighting the Unstoppable Tide of Ino-sama and instead let myself go limp.  I feel vague satisfaction at Ino’s state of disarray when we reach one of the Academy training grounds where the rest of the Fan Girls are waiting.

She is gasping for breath by the time we get there; sweat sticking her normally perfect shiny golden hair to her face.  A smile almost surfaces on my face before her pupiless blue eyes dart down to meet mine.  I see death there.  A patient anger and a grudge that is content to wait until the perfect moment to strike.  I know I have poked a tiger.  Then proceeded to roll all over it and call its mama fat.

I shall regret. 

Ino lets me fall to the ground then collects herself.  She runs a hand through her hair and tames it with a sharp flick.  She grounds her position, hands on her hips, and surveys her troops.  The assorted girls stand at attention in the face of their leader.  Many eyes dart down to me and I can’t help but feel like freshly caught prey.   Perhaps if I don’t move they will forget I exist.

With my hypothesis formed I proceed to the first trial.  I hold my breath, close my eyes, and tighten my chakra into a near nonexistent ball.

I can almost feel it when a sparkly purple fingernail points down at me, “I have retrieved Miki-chan.  Now I know we all decided that she could help us first, but after more con-consideration, I think that we should help her out first.  As her fellow classmates and future sisters-in-arms, it is our duty to help Miki-chan be the best kunoichi possible – and she won’t get there without our charm and feminine knowledge to guide her on her way,” she pauses to be met with cheers, “Plus, she’d totally embarrass us if people saw us with her.  We can’t let Sasuke-kun think we’re losers!”

Trial one has failed.

Scrap hypothesis.

Hypothesis two: If I move fast enough I can maneuver around the Unholy Horde and live to see another day

Testing: run like hell

Parameters of success: reach a safe point where I may safely hide

Test one: start

I take a moment to focus on my chakra sense.  I observe that during my previous testing Ino had situated her lackeys to surround us so that we are in the middle of a loose circle.  I identify a chunk of the circle with particularly weakly glowing blue signatures.  They are my targets.

My eyes snap open and I quickly flip up.  I turn my head slightly to catch sight of Ino’s form.  She stands smugly with her arms crossed and a brow raised.  She is quite certain I will not be able to get past the Horde.

It is now Ino’s turn to find out that if you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself. 

I turn my head to look at my chosen weak point in the circle.  It includes Fangirls #3 and #4.

And the Purple One.  My rival for Sasu-chan’s love.

Victory shall be sweet.

There is a moment of stillness where my enemies are smug in their confidence.  Then I move. 

I sprint towards the chosen line of defense, open my mouth, and scream, “RAAAAaaaaGH!”

The girls’ eyes blow wide and they don’t take a moment to get the hell out of dodge, “Aaaaa!” they scream as they flee in the wake of my incredible wrath.

I hear Ino yelling in the distance behind me, but I pay her no mind.  I sense a chakra signature in front of me but I also disregard it.  I grin in exhilaration, the wind whipping past my face as I speed to safety.  Freedom is within my grasp.

Then he steps out.

I stumble and skid to a stop.  I pant lightly and take in the sight before me.  My eyes narrow, “Kitty Queen.”

The boy stands smugly in front of me where he stepped out from behind a tree.  We both tense and there’s a moment of silence.

“Ruff!”

“And Akamaru,” I acknowledge.

I sense Ino getting closer and soon hear her approach behind me.

“I knew there was a chance that you would get away, so I got some…insurance.”  Although I’m sure the dramatic pause was from unsurety of the word she used (Does she keep getting these from her dad or something?) moreso than any sense of drama, Ino is on the fast track to becoming an excellent Bond villain.

I don’t turn around or acknowledge her words.  I keep my eyes locked on the sharp and vaguely feral eyes in front of me.  I swear to God that boy is growling.

My calves clench and I dash to my right, running as fast as I can.  Which is pretty damn fast, if I do say so myself.

Problem is, if there is one person in this class that is naturally faster than me, it’s the dog-boy that’s chasing me. 

I hear a yip and a sound a bit like a howl as I sense the boy tear off in pursuit of me.  Now let me tell you, hearing dogs baying (well, a puppy and one dog-like-yet-not-werewolf-level boy) for your blood (No, that is not an exaggeration; Kiba gets a little too much joy in beating as much shit outta me as Iruka will allow during spars) is not comforting.

But perhaps this shall be the day Lady Luck smiles down upon me and cuts me a fucking break.

“Get off me ya dumb mutt!  Ya already caught me – ya don’t need to sit on my back!  Lay off the kibble a bit, why doncha!”

Alas, my life remains in ruin.

Kiba lowers his face down towards mine as I desperately try to disengage it from the dirt, “Yer just a sore loser, Crazy!  Not my fault Akamaru and me are the fastest!”

Akamaru yips in agreement and licks my face in some sort of appeasement.

“That’s not even proper grammar, dumb nuts!”

“Like you can talk!  You talk like a Red Boy!  And ya don’t even make sense, like, ever!”

I choose to not irately inform him that yes; I do speak like a “Red Boy” because I am practically from the Red Light District.  Sukoshi Hana verges right on the edge of it, the people in my orphanage come from it one way or another, and most of the people I interacted with at the start of this life are from there.  So I think it makes a bit of sense that I talk with the slang and “low language” attributed to most people from poor towns, low income neighborhoods, and red light districts.

He, on the other hand, has no excuse for not speaking perfect Japanese.  Or whatever the hell this language is called.  Only having one language (impossibly) on this whole damn continent means they don’t really feel the need to name it.

But anyway, Kiba here is from a Noble Clan.  Taking Ino, Sasuke, and Hinata as examples, most kids that come out of Clans tend to have perfect speech with little to no slang or speech idiosyncrasies.  I suppose the Inuzuka Clan doesn’t really give a damn like most of the rest do, but I am perfectly validated in pointing out that the shaggy haired little shit’s speech patterns are sub-par.  

Come on, Akamaru and I is so second grade.

Ino steps lightly in front of me, looks down her nose, and declares, “You have been defeated at your own game.  Shikamaru says you should comply now.”

What?  Shikama—I swear to God

You shall die little man.

Kiba huffs and leans forward on my back, causing my ribs to creak and I squeak in despair, “Oi!  That lazy ass ain’t got nothin’ to do with this.  She’s submitting because of me.”

Ino sighs, “Whatever.”

“Hey!  You making fun of me princess?”

The two start bickering. Ino bends to start sniping in Kiba’s face and the boy leans forward to snarl. 

And I am left, stuck under two-tons of kibble treats.  Honestly what do they feed this boy?  My fragile bones are snapping!

I open my mouth to try and get their attention but my diaphragm seems to have misplaced the air needed for that. Seeing my struggle, Akamaru even tries to get his partner’s attention, but is cruelly ignored.

It seems that drastic measures are called for.

I shut my eyes in concentration and try to ignore the fact that my bones are creaking and my brain doesn’t exactly have the amount of oxygen needed to think.  Behind my eyelids the world lights up, but I ignore it in favor of my own chakra.

I project my control to the bright hues of my chakra pathways.  I concentrate especially on my upper back – which is a bit harder than most other places.  There are no chakra gates within the area and unlike the hands and feet, the back hasn’t been evolutionarily selected to gain larger tenketsu points (which allow for larger output and finer control).

Happily, normal limitations when it comes to chakra do not bind me and I control the flow of chakra in my back just fine.  It’s not quite as finessed as other parts of the body, but eh.  Beggars can’t be choosers and all that.

I wrest control of the natural flow of chakra then alter it.  I bring it to the surface of my skin until I can vaguely feel it bubbling there. 

As someone who has watched an anime featuring the many uses of chakra, I came into the ninja game knowing there are a lot of things chakra can do naturally without any particular ninjutsu.  The chakra of the bijuu are somehow malevolent to the point that it acts as a sort of corrosive plasma.  I think that their chakra just has some sort of natural toxicity rather than anything having to do with it being “evil”. I’m not quite sure how to achieve this effect but I feel that it may be possible and not just innate to chakra beasts.

The Hyuga Clan has their own special brand of utilizing chakra by using chakra driven strikes to block off tenketsu points.  I’m not quite sure how this functions but I’d be interested in seeing Hinata demonstrate.  My chakra sense doesn’t have the detail or finesse the byakugan allows the no-pupiled folks of the Noble Clan, but I’d like to find out what I can see.  I also sometimes wonder if I could replicate it somehow.  All things considered:  probably not.  But still. 

I also know that you can shape raw chakra beyond just chakra strings.  Kabu-what’s-his-face used chakra scalpels in his fights.  They allowed him to completely bypass the epidermis and cut straight into muscles – or organs.  Which you know, is so cool.  I understand that you need near perfect chakra control to manage a move like that, but I don’t know why more people don’t try and go for pure chakra weapons.  It would be the type of weapon that can’t really be defeated if you keep your control steady.  No one can knock it out of your hands – you’re projecting energy, not holding something naturally solid.  That leads on to the point that by virtue of that silver haired guy’s method, chakra constructs don’t always need to be substantial.  You could easily let someone’s weapon through it and catch them off guard when it’s suddenly is there. 

So I may or may not have been messing around with this whole solid vs plasma thing chakra has going on. 

I direct my chakra to move up from my body until it touches the boy yelling on top of me. Then it sharpens.

“YEEEooowch!”

Kiba yowls as he flies through the air holding his ass.  He rubs it frantically with tears in his eyes, losing all dignity, “What the heck was that ya freak!”

I ignore him and take greedy gasps of air.  I live to see another day.  I roll over and my already watering eyes feel like they’re going to overflow when the dreaded sunlight hits them. 

Suddenly, the harsh light is blocked as Ino leans over me.  She looks rather confused, “Why are you crying?” But nonetheless says, “You’re still going to give up.”

“Miki-chan…why are you wearing sunglasses?”

“Why Ino-chan, you explicitly told me I needed some cute or cool accessories to up my image.  Thus: sunglasses.”  Totally stolen sunglasses considering I have no personal money, but that’s neither here nor there. 

I adjust the dark lenses on my face and can’t help but feel a bit better about life in general.  I wore glasses the majority of my first life and having a pair on, sunglasses or prescription, can feel nothing but familiar.  Plus the sun, bane of my existence, no longer can make people accuse me of crying at random times. 

So giving into the might of Ino-sama didn’t end up being all bad.  Just mostly awful.

I spent the majority of my time with the Fan Girls being jerked around, having my fashion taste critiqued and my pride in my femininity (or apparent lack thereof) disparaged.  Honestly, it was insulting.  I liked dressing nice and pretty things well enough the first time around, but I have neither the means nor the desire to do so now. 

I still have more style than all of them in my pinky finger.  Glitter?  Please.

After two torturous hours I was given an assignment for the next day to up my “cute” or “cool” factor with an accessory.  After that, we got down to “business”. 

If only it were to defeat the Huns.  Instead, I was tasked with trying to organize a group of eight year olds into a workable spy group.  Well, they didn’t refer to themselves as such, but that’s basically what they asked for.

“Sooo,” I drawled, “Yer gonna want ta have rotations of two, like I said.  You should also have them for one or two hour increments each so no one ends up having their attention span wane-”

“I’ll always pay attention to Sasuke-kun!”

“Well.  Okay then.  So you may want to have it so that it’s rotating even within the watch group.”

“Huh?”

Sigh.  “Like say it’s a two hour watch time.  In this model at the beginning of the day there will be two people.  When the two hour mark hits, one will rotate out so another person comes in – so I guess in this case one person will be doing an extra hour unless you can figure out a better way.  But anyway, when the three hour mark hits for the first person, she will rotate out and a new person will be in.  This will continue on so that when the two hour mark hits for the third girl in the rotation, she will leave and be replaced, while there is still the fourth girl there who is only at her one hour mark.  So basically, you’ll always have a least one person there so you don’t miss anything.  Poor lil Sasu-chan will never have to worry about being alone again.  Hehehe- hem.”

“So one of the girls in the two person group will rotate out at their two hour mark, but it will only be the hour mark for the other person,” Ino summarizes. 

“Yep.  Except for that person who has to do three hours.”

A serious nod, “We will figure out who has the right to the privilege of an extra hour with Sasuke-kun.”

With?  That’s stretching it a bit.

“Maybe you should have spars every week to determine who gets to have the extra hours for the week to come.  Like, top seven get the seven days of the next week?  Ya know; for motivation.”

A pause, “Suzume-sensei will probably think it’s a good idea.”

So they got a teacher in on this whole “getting stronger” thing?  Well I suppose Suzume is a chunin but ridiculously feminine at the same time.  Seems like a goal for this group.  Still.

“…So are you going to untie me now?  I still don’t know how you got the Red One to agree to catch me in his stupid wire traps.  So unnecessary.” 

“You tried to set Midori-chan on fire when she tried to help you put on some eye paint!”

“Fangirl #4 was asking for it.”

She ignores me and I ignore the glaring pair of eyes under some slightly toasty eyebrows, “What if we ever lose Sasuke-kun?”

“Well that’s what recruitment is for, of course.”

“We don’t want other girls to follow Sasuke-kun!”

“What?  Who said anything about other girls?”

“You just did!”

“What?  No I didn’t.”

“Miki-chan!”

“Hm?  Oh, I guess this was one of those things that I explained in my head, but not actually out loud.  Oops.  So, you need to recruit adults to help you out.  Ya know the civvie adults always tut about Sasu-chan looking all broody and stuff when his brother is away.  Ya need to recruit people in places that he frequents so they can tell you when they see him.”

“Like stall workers in the market district?”

“That’s the ticket.”

“But how do we do that?”

“Use that feminine charm you talk about so often.”

Slow, understanding grins.

Either way, I guess it was a very productive day for the Fan Girl Revolution.  These things must be taken step-by-step after all. 

Ino looks at me with skeptical blue eyes, “I guess that counts…”

Shikamaru and Choji enter through the gates not too long after her.  I make eye contact with soulless dark eyes.

“You’re dead to me.”

Laughter follows me inside the building as I stomp towards the classroom.  I imagine I squash millions of microscopic annoyances with every stomp of my foot.  They beg me to stop, but I am relentless.  There is no mercy in my cold, pitiless, glittery heart.

Seriously, the other orphan kids – especially Kyo – were relentless in shaking down my hair for the glitter that refuses to come out of it.  I washed my hair twice, most of it in a downpour of cold water since we don’t have too much hot in the tank, and yet I still saw some of it in the mirror this morning shining there under my white ribbon. 

I walk through the door and look up from my terrifying of the invisible masses.  I make eye contact with another pair of shades.  There is a moment’s pause as Shino sees me wearing sunglasses and I re-realize that he has in fact always worn them and those are not just the natural state of his eyes.

I grin and shoot hand guns in his direction, “Hey-o!”

The boy is unmoved.  But I’m sure the cockles of his heart have warmed up with the fact that he has just acquired a partner in Cool.  I walk by him and silently pat him on the shoulder.  I only recoil a little when a droning buzz picks up in response. 

I walk up a few more steps then collapse in a seat next to my dear Cinnamon Bun. 

“What’s up, Doc?”

Hinata’s eyes slide over to me and a smile tugs at her lips, “Good morning, Miki-san.”

“I told ya to just call me Miki.”

“Ah, that would be rather…impolite,” The dark haired girl hedges.

Suddenly the Hyuga goes still and her head turns completely towards me, voice bemused, “Miki-san, is your hair…sparkling?…Ah!  Not that it doesn’t look good…the sunglasses…also look nice.”

“What can I say?  I am the glittering epitome of style and fashion.”

Who the hell over five years old thinks glitter is a good fashion statement?   

Hinata hums neutrally then turns to the front of the classroom when Iruka-sensei walks in and yells for everyone to settle down.  I see him glance in my direction and pause.  His eyes squint then almost seem to spasm.  They quickly dart away from me and he doesn’t look in my direction for the remainder of class.  I happily take this opportunity to continue my etching of the Cheshire cat.  Hinata sighs but leaves me be for the most part. 

Break rolls around and the kids are clearly ready to get out.  Despite it being fall by this point, Konoha weather doesn’t vary too much and it is still pretty nice out.  Before he can dismiss us, Iruka is interrupted by another chunin coming in and talking to him.  We eye the interloper as he walks out a scant few seconds later.

Our eyes swivel back to brunette man and he informs us, “due to a need to elongate an exercise, a class from the grade above you will be joining your grade for recess today.  With that said, class dismissed for lunch.”

I vaguely feel Hinata tense beside me before I go diving for the window.  I had sensed the Bothersome One approaching and the need to get the hell away compelled me. 

My face meets the cool bite of fresh air as I dive out face-first.  The window isn’t too far off the ground, but I reach back to the smooth surface of the building’s wall and let my chakra flow in order to slow my descent a bit.  I land with crouched knees and fluidly straightened myself.

As much as I don’t particularly want to be a ninja, the physical aspects are pretty cool.  They certainly aid in daring escapes.

I readjust my sunglasses and make a mental note to figure out how Shino manages to keep them in place.  I could probably keep them sticking to my head with chakra, but I doubt that’s the method he employs.  I don’t think he has bad chakra control, but I don’t think it’s that good either. 

I hum and start moseying my way towards the recess grounds.  My stomach growls and I realize that I left behind my lunch in my panic.  Oh well; just gotta find Hinata then.  Girl’s perceptive enough to notice and kindhearted enough to get it.  I’m on the opposite side of the building so she should be outside by the time I make my way there.

The sound of children assaults my ears long before I turn the corner to the playground.  Children run screaming back and forth as some recline around tables or on the ground to eat.  I’m not very good with masses of numbers nor do I care enough to memorize faces, so I can’t really tell if there is another class out here.  I could focus on my chakra sense to see, but I don’t really care too much. 

I make my way into the masses and quickly notice that there is a crowd growing.  There’s probably a fight about to go down – 50% chance of it being between Naruto and Sasuke.  There’s also a chance one of the idiot boys in my class felt the need to assert their superiority over those in the older class.  Ooh, even better, one of the older girls may have pissed off Ino and the Fan Girls by fawning over Sasuke a bit too much.  Now interested, I focus on sensing the chakra in the center of the circle to check it out.

I pause.  Then quickly make my way over to the crowd, elbowing my way through the sea of children,

What the hell is Hinata doing in there?

The chakra she seems to be facing down is unfamiliar.  Well, not completely.  It actually has a similar flavor to her own.

I pop out to the front of the crowd already knowing what I’d see. 

Neji Hyuga, Pretty Prince of the Pale Pupiless People, stands sneering at his stoic cousin, “-honestly, such a disgrace to have to see your face here.  The Hyuga Clan is the best in all of the Leaf, but even if you’re better than the average failure, you’re still leagues beneath me and the rest of the Main Branch.  You probably give us a bad reputation, trying to be worthy of the title of Shinobi when it is your fate to always be lesser.”

He pauses here, expecting the girl across from him to do something.  Possibly break down crying.  But Hinata is as still and emotionless as a statue, taking his abuse but giving nothing back.

The older boy’s sneer deepens and he takes a step forward, reaching his hand towards the bandage covering Hinata’s forehead, “This mark is the manifestation of your Fate.  You’re marked as inferior, forever beneath me.  Yet you stand here, staring me in the eye like you are my equal.  It is outrageous.  My honorable father may forget that the Branch members need to sometimes be put in their place, but I don’t.  This mark seals you as my slave and I can force you to kneel with just a…”

Rage.  Ah, I have not tasted this kind of rage in a long, long time.  Almost never in my first life, and not for many years in this one.   But it’s there, bubbling uncomfortably in my stomach.  I’m almost blinded by it; I’m so unused to it.  I may not love Hinata like I loved my friends and family from my previous life, but she is the only person in this life to be truly kind to me.

I want to go in and wreck that little bitch.  But besides the fact that I probably couldn’t take him on, I know it wouldn’t make anything better for her.  If I attacked him, he would inevitably blame it on her.  Even then, considering she’s his born “guard”, the Clan would blame her for allowing him to be attacked right in front of her.

So, I’d have to make him pay without blood.

Really, call someone their slave in front of a black person.  We don’t particularly appreciate the sentiment that people can be owned like cattle.  Brings up some hard feelings. 

I take all of that rage and make myself grin.  I then launch myself forward.  Into Hinata.

I cling around her shoulders, feel her stiffen in surprise, and turn the full force of my grin onto the little bitch in front of us.  His face pisses me off.  Right.  Disarm him with words; not violence.

“Talk shit, get hit.”

Almost.

His nose scrunches up and he looks me up and down in partial confusion before his face settles on disdain, “What’s this?  I did not believe it to be possible, but you have managed to lower yourself, Hinata.  With this… glittering eyesore around your neck.  With that kind of speech, I’d guess she’s from around that district too.  And those tattered clothes…probably rather poor as well.  Certainly not from a Clan.”

“Those clothes you’re wearing are lookin’ as stiff as your personality there, Fabio.  Why don’t you slip into something more comfortable; like a coma?”

The boy’s pale face twists into a snarl, his bared teeth matching my own, “Are you threatening me, peasant?  I can crush you even without the might of my Clan.  I suppose I understand why you try to protect my cousin.  Failures must stick together, after all.  I do not know why you are even here – look at you.  In your rags, your vulgar accent, trying to oppose your clear betters.  It is your Fate to fail at whatever you do.  Why are you here?  No one wants you here.  You’re probably an orphan – no one wants you at all.  It’s your Fate to be nothing, to be alone-”

Fate, fate, fate.  Fuck.  Fate.

Suddenly Hinata is in front of me, “Stop, Neji-sama.  Miki-san has nothing to do with this.  Your anger lies with me alone.

“Do not presume to know where my anger lies.  You are nothing.  Neither of you are worth my time.  Now why don’t you just-”

Prince Pompous Ass’ pearly eyes widen as my hands are suddenly thrust in his face, “I’m not touching you!”

“What?  Stop that!”

I dance around the boy’s flailing arms, throwing jabs and pokes and pats that never quite reach his body, “Not touching you!  Not touching you!  Not touching you!”

“Stop that now!” He hisses, face going red. 

I keep up my dance, “Maybe you should stop acting as if Hinata is the problem.  It’s you you’re mad at, isn’t it?  Hinata is better than you; kinder, smarter, stronger, more level headed.  I bet it burns you that even though you’re the Heir, you know that really she’s-”

Neji’s blank eyes flash in fury and veins grotesquely bulge from underneath his skin.  I have a moment to know what is coming before a cry of “Byakugan!” reaches my ears and all I feel is pain.

I groan as I walk home from school, arms still feeling like noodles.  Neji, the new reining Little Bitch, had blocked twenty of my tenketsu points before a teacher finally intervened.  Also, prodigious as he is, he’s still only 9/10 years old, and doesn’t have the gentle fist down to an art.  On top of that, he wasn’t exactly trying to be gentle. 

This resulted in not only blockages, but a few ruptures.  In essence it’s like having a bruise within my chakra network.  You can’t see it, but I can certainly feel it.  Not only that, but I won’t be able to use any chakra from my hands in the next 7-10 hours.  Normally you’d go to the hospital to get your tenketsu points unblocked by an on-staff Hyuga, but considering I’m an orphan academy student (AKA I won’t be fighting any time soon and am not important), the nurse decided to just let it wear off naturally. 

At least I missed the rest of school.  My chakra sensitivity decided to rear its ugly head.  It decidedly did not appreciate the fact that foreign chakra invaded my body and my own natural flow was disrupted.  I was passed out until sunset.  Everyone except the nurse on duty had gone home before I woke. 

The nurse told me that apparently Hinata had wanted to stay with me, but Neji had ordered her home.  At least I technically didn’t attack him and make it worse for her.  I don’t know what kind of man Neji’s father is here, but Hinata really did nothing wrong.  It was Neji that lost his temper and went nuclear on a student both a year below him and clearly weaker. 

While there won’t be any political fallout over it considering I’m Clanless, it’s still a bit embarrassing that the Hyuga Heir would have done such a thing. Neji will probably still blame Hinata because he is a pompous ass that believes he’s peerless, but hopefully his dad will blame him.

Then again, the Hyuga are really just awful.  They basically enslave their own family.  The Caged Bird Seal is the worst thing ever. If I knew anything about seals I’d definitely look into getting that thing off Hinata, and the rest of them for that matter.  They do have a couple books on seals in the library, and though I’m not that good at reading, I probably know just as much about studying other sorts of “languages” as anyone else in this world due to my past life. 

Still, the seal is a sort of passed down family tradition, so that doesn’t mean the Clan Head has to like it.  It’s possible Neji’s dad thinks it is awful and won’t punish Hinata off hand simply for being a Branch family member. 

But who knows?  What kind of person could have raised such an arrogant, rude, hurtful child?

Like seriously; who the fuck thinks it’s okay to make fun of someone for being an orphan?  For being alone?  I’d like to see him out on the street with all his friends (which he probably doesn’t have!) and family dead (or at least gone – same thing in the end) and see if he still finds it funny.

I let out a long sigh and try to shake some feeling into my arms.  I shrug my shoulders up to readjust my glasses.  Then I let the dying sun warm my face and try to quell the roiling in my stomach.

Like the glitter in my hair, my rage refuses to wash away.  It is incredibly uncomfortable as I am still not used to the feeling of anger, especially anger this absolute.  I wasn’t particularly emotional my first life and I feel like my emotions have a layer of bubble wrap around them in this life.  I’m not used to feeling any emotion this intense now.

So now I’m just in a bad mood.  I just kinda want to fuck something up – but I don’t know what.  Taking it out on the kids at the orphanage would be neither satisfying nor practical.  But I’m only about ten minutes away from the Sukoshi Hana by now and my lack of usable arms makes me not wanna deviate too far from my path. 

Just this once, I want trouble to find me. 

I almost immediately regret that thought.

From the shadows of the alleyway I’m about to pass I suddenly sense a chakra signature.  As in, the person is talented enough to hide their chakra so that I couldn’t even detect it until I am right on top of them or they decided to stop hiding.  Only some jounin or freaking ANBU can do that.

While I have no logical reason to think that this person has any interest in me, I immediately spring forward to dart away. 

This little pipe dream is immediately crushed as strong arms wrap tightly around me.  On reflex I spike my chakra through my skin.  My attacker grunts in surprise but the flow of my system is too messed up to maintain it for long or with any ferocity.

Instead I twist my head to viciously bite down on the right arm of the body (man, I think) that is holding me.  I clench my jaw until I taste blood through the cotton of his shirt.

(Which, gross.  And unsanitary.  But not the priority right now)

The man grunts and his other hand quickly snaps up to squeeze my jaw until I release with a grunt of pain.

In those few seconds the numbing surprise leaves, toxic anger dissipates, and hot panic prickles at my skin.

Shit.  I’m being kidnapped.  Shit.  Shit.

I kick out furiously with my legs, hoping to catch something to no avail. My chakra flares wildly and with no direction. 

I hear a deep voice mutter “dumb brat” next to my ear before, for the second time today, everything goes dark.

“Danzo has moved.  The child has been taken and Anko-san reports that your tracking seal is working as expected.  Hokage-sama has also been notified and the ANBU are ready to strike when the command is given.”

Golden yellow eyes slant in the man’s direction, a smile slithering across the smooth pale face, “Excellent.  Danzo’s meddling will come to an end tonight.  Tell Sarutobi-sensei I shall be ready momentarily.”

The masked operative gives a perfunctory nod then disappears. 

Left in the silence of the room Orochimaru languidly stands, smirking in satisfaction, “Now let’s see how clever you prove, Orphan-chan.”

Chapter Text

I feel like I have been dreaming for a very long time.  But sometimes it feels like I haven’t been dreaming at all.

I have always been rather aware in my dreams.  Even if I don’t outright take control of them, I always peripherally know that I am dreaming.  If something wrong happens, I can force the reality I am in to let me redo events until they meet my satisfaction.

While real life is fine, dreams are still a sort of haven.  I dream vividly and fantastically.  Dreams are exciting and consequences are something that I am above.

It feels like I have been dreaming for so, so long.  I dream of ninjas and orphans and snakes and shadows.  It is a weird dream – I normally didn’t have dreams quite so sad.  Or, when they are sad, I don’t feel sad.  There is a sort of emotional detachment in dreams, and while this Dream’s feelings still don’t feel as keen as those from reality, they hurt. 

I also haven’t had a nightmare since I was very young.  I don’t know why – maybe because I have better control over my dreams.  Or maybe I just ceased being scared of the things in my dreams.  After all, they all come from my mind.  If I made them, why should I be scared of them?

But I was very scared at the beginning of this long dream.  Scared and alone.  The brightness, the adventure, the careless happiness of my dreams are nowhere to be found.  It is odd and I do not appreciate it.

I want to wake up, but I am not sure how.  I am not in the Dream presently, but in some nebulous darkness.  I am fairly sure it is the darkness of my mind.  My brain feels muttled and it is hard to think clearly.  Fractals of the Dream cut through the darkness, swirling around me.  This manic child with blinding aqua blue hair runs rampant through them, running from her anger and grief. 

I can distantly recognize her as myself.  But then I can’t.  She is like a caricature of me, distorted.  I want to turn away but I feel sad for her.  My life hasn’t always been peaches and cream, but I’ve never been so lost.  I like being alone, but it is rather lonely not to have anyone in the first place, isn’t it?

I stare at the image of the girl as memories go running past.  Memories?  But yes, that’s what they are, aren’t they?

My life seems so far away.  So much more a dream than the Dream itself.  I don’t want to acknowledge it, but it is an inevitable truth.  I have always been bad at lying to myself.  I can run away from reality and feelings all I want, but when the truth is here, staring me in the (metaphorical) face, well, what’s the point?

And like that the reality of my mind shifts and thoughts aline.

Hm.  So I’ve been kidnapped.  Most likely the work of Danzo, if I had to guess.  Old coot.  I have no interest in becoming some emotionless pet soldier and I don’t imagine the girl I’ve become would be a good fit.  She is rather good at driving people insane and muscling through the most bewildering and frightening of circumstances.  Or I am, I suppose. 

Miki.

Well, not exactly my name, but it is a name.  As good as any. 

I comes to my attention that I am unconscious and will most likely be waking up soon.  My emotions are muted even more in this place compared to when I’m awake and I take a moment to consider my options.

Honestly, I don’t think confronting reality and my feelings will do any good.  Especially right now, in this situation.  Miki, as she is, will be far more suited to deal with this than I

(and just who are you?  You are this child now, remember?  The you of before is dead.  Literally.  Yes, yes.  Please shut up now.)

ever would be.  I think running a little bit longer should be fine.

I feel my consciousness start to rouse and my chakra sense, before anything else, springs to life.  I sense the signatures around me and I know that my theory is correct.  Hundreds of options flash through my mind before I instinctively choose a course of action.

(Ah…so it will be like that.)

Well, I might get myself killed, but that guy will have one helluva headache by the end of this.

“Wake up.”

There are large hands shaking me and my hands reflexively clench on the cold, hard ground.  My sharp nails manage to dig up some of the hard pact earth and I can feel the chill seeping through my body.  My nose flairs and, with a better sense of smell than I ever had in my last life, I pick up a stale musk and dankness that means I’m probably underground.

My eyes snap open and I’m met with the blank face of a mask.  I take in the sight of blood on his sleeve and I know that he is the guy that kidnapped me.  My response is purely instinctive.  Honest.

“Child abuse!”

The training these ROOT people go through really must be top notch, as the guy barely twitches.  But he did twitch.  I saw that; not quite so robotic as you’re supposed to be, huh mate?

I bare my teeth at him in a grin as he roughly pulls me up.  I stagger as he pushes me in front of him, hand firm on my upper arm.  I keep grinning, “Twitch, twitch, twitch, Mr. Twitchy Man.  It’s not very nice to knock out young girls and take ‘em into your creepy underground lair.  That’s, like, creepy ya know.  It’d just be karma if that lil’ girl was a monster and took a bite outta you instead.”

Although his body doesn’t betray him this time, I feel his chakra flicker in a sign of nervous energy, “Aw, don’t be getting nervous on me Mr. Twitchy, you started it, ya know?  Gotta see it through now!”

Ah, I think that guy may have given me a concussion when he knocked me out.  I am not entirely sure what in the hell I’m saying and it is truly a struggle for me to try to walk in a straight line.  Drunks are likely to have an easier time of it than I am. 

The ninja behind me gives me a hard push as he lets go and I go tumbling onto the hard ground.  My body aches and my head feels like it’s trying to implode on itself.  Maybe it’ll make a black hole!

Right, right, focus.  ROOT.  Rooty root toot.  Means….Danzo!  Evil old dude!  Right, gotta beat the boss to go onto the next level.  Always hated caves or dungeons in games.  Full of zubats. 

With my face still smooshed to the ground, I lift up my arms and demand, “Take me to your leader!”

Heh

I don’t realize I’m snickering until I hear, “Stop your laughter immediately.  I am taking you to be presented to Danzo-sama and this kind of behavior is unacceptable.”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t hit my head so hard I’d present myself fine!  Bad form, that.”

There is silence.

Then rough hands are once again pulling me up and dragging me along.  I’m not sure where we are or where we go or exactly how long it takes to get there, but suddenly we are in front of a door.  I am not sure how they managed to get a wooden door in a wall made of dirt, but it was respectably looming.  Like, the Godfather could be behind that door and make me an offer I couldn’t refuse.  It was that kinda door.

The man holding me suddenly opens the door and marches me into the room.  There is an old man sitting behind the desk.  It is a nice desk.  Nice and solid for a mob boss.  My eyes trail up to the person sitting behind the desk.  I am underwhelmed.  And disappointed.  Where are the nice suits that mobsters wore in the good ‘ol days?

Wait, he’s talking to me.  But mob bosses don’t speak Japanese!  Oh, but I guess I could be held captive by the Yakuza and not the Italian mob.  So Japanese Godfather.  I guess I can get behind that.  But there’s still one problem.

“Where’s your cat?”

There is silence and I realize that I cut the Godfather off.  This is rude and probably something not done, but I feel the need to clarify the issue, “Your cat.  The one you’re supposed to be stroking as you make me an offer I can’t refuse.  You know, that cat.  Your cat.”

There is another bout of silence as I wait for him to produce said cat.  Finally, “Is there something wrong with Interest 236?”

A pause, “I, ah, may have hit her head a little too hard when I knocked her out.  My apologies, Danzo-sama.”

“What could have caused such an action?”

“She tried to bite through my right arm, sir.”

“…”

“…So, about that cat.”

The Godfather holds up a bandaged hand in a wordless command for silence.  I peer at him closer and notice that he doesn’t look too hot.  Most of his face is wrapped up, the bandages winding around his head.  He has a weird scar on his chin and his visage is weathered with deep seated wrinkles.  Honestly, he’s not looking too good.  Not as strong as a mob boss needs to be.

He looks to the side and a figure looms from the shadows.  Which is creepy as hell, let me tell you.

“Bring Asset 137.”

The figure pauses, and though the elderly man looks briefly annoyed, he says, “He has proven himself in recent days and I believe he can now be trusted to know of this place.  He can begin working more closely for me with this.”

The figure nods and then disappears between one blink and the next.  The Godfather resettles back into his chair and turns his gaze on me. 

 He adopts a mildly kindly look, “Now, child, I’m sure you have questions.”

I hum, “I mean, yeah, I have questions.  Like why did God make tomatoes a fruit when it is obviously a vegetable?  Why did Tom Riddle go on to wage guerilla warfare as a rebel faction when he totally coulda had it made in the political scene?  How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop? Or, if we wanna get right down to it, what’s the meaning of life?”

He simply looks at me for a few seconds and I realize my mistake, “Oh, you mean for you specifically.  Well, I guess, what kind of benefits are there to being in the mob?  Is there decent dental and stuff?  Can I even be in the Yakuza if I’m not Japanese?  Could I become the next Godfather even though I’m not a guy?  Ooh, can I call myself the Fairy Godmother?  No, wait, that’s dumb.  I guess we can talk specifics at a later date.”

Silence reigns for a bit and I can almost sense the disbelief radiating from my kidnapper.  I crane my neck up and I see his mask is fixed on his leader.  I imagine a look of horror scrawled across the face under the mask.

I wince and immediately regret the choice of moving my head as it swims and groans in protest.  I mumble something unintelligible and wiggle my arm in an attempt to get out of the tight grip holding onto to me.  With my other arm I slap a hand to my head in a futile attempt to staunch the pain.  My hand tangles in rough riotous curls and travels along to my face.  Sliding across my eyes, my hand stops and tries to apply pressure on them. 

I try to concentrate and reorient myself.  It takes a minute before a fact becomes apparent to me and my hand shoots off my face.  I stare at the man before me in horror, and though his expression doesn’t shift from placidness, I vaguely register his chakra curling smugly. 

Eyes wide, I exclaim, “My glasses!”

There is no response.

I jab a hand back until I’m poking furiously at the large body behind me, “I hope you’re gonna reimburse me pal, ‘cause I don’t got any money in the first place!  Do you know what the sun does to me without those?  It burnsssss usssss!”

My hisses trail off after about a minute and I gulp for air.  Finally, the man behind the desk speaks, “It appears that Interest 236 is too out of sorts to think straight.  Please restrain her until Asset 137 arrives.  Without injuring her further, preferably”

I grunt as I am picked up and held for an indeterminable length of time.  My head lists to the side and I lazily take in the room.  It is a large rounded cavern, clearly manmade.  The walls seem to be made of stone rather than the packed earth of the corridors.  There are a few torches lining the walls.  They give off a dim light that nonsensically illuminates the middle of the room while leaving the walls they hang on pooled in shadow.  I suppose that is the strength of a villain:  being able to have the proper ambiance no matter how physics defying. 

My thoughts roam and I am pretty sure I’m supposed to be panicking over something.  But my head hurts too much for any real emotional feedback.  My vision flickers in and out.  My consciousness fades until the line between awake and asleep blurs. 

I am 76% sure I am drooling on this guy.

Finally, something changes and a new presence pops into existence by Bandage Man.

“Asset 137.”

The conversation that proceeds is lost on me.  The pressure in my head has gotten immense enough that it scrambles my thoughts. 

In my disorientation I vaguely wonder how I have gotten such a bad migraine.  I haven’t had one this bad in years and I’ve always been pretty good at avoiding the really bad triggers.  I can’t remember if I’ve taken any medicine for it yet – there should be some around here.  Am I in my apartment or at home?  I can’t remember having seen my mom or dad in a while (which is unusual), but I also can’t remember my last conversation with my roommate (which is even more unusual). 

I open my mouth to call out for someone, but my words are slurred and I can’t seem to say anything coherent.  Which does happens sometimes during really bad migraines.  What the hell did I do?  I try to search my memories but everything is disjointed and blurred.

Then there is something on my head that I vaguely identify as a hand.  A cool sensation spreads over my head and I blearily think that my mom must’ve come and put a washcloth on my forehead.  Weird that it’s having such a nice effect, but you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that.

“Thanks mom,” I mutter and open my previously squeezed shut eyes.

Instead of my mother’s face, a stylized animal mask swims into my field of vision.  My heart jumps in shock and my eyes widen.

“Sweet Jesus!” A leg lashes out involuntary towards the Creepy-As-All-Hell face.  The mask smoothly dips back to allow by (short) leg to pass in front of it.

What the hell, is this person some sorta ninja?!

…

Oh.

A shock of cold rushes through me as my thoughts and memories snap into place.  My chest tightens with feeling and it seems like I have lost my breath.  It feels like all the light in the universe has gone out and I’m left standing here in the dark.

But then I let my eyes narrow and lower lip jut out in an approximation of Naruto (Red, Red, not Yellow) at his surliest, “You are not a female, sir.”

 The mask ticks to the side, “It is curious for someone who has never had a mother to mistake me as hers.”

“I suppose your maternal disposition outpoured from you and unconsciously made me yearn for a dream long passed.”

My healer’s chakra is sterile and precise.  Slick as newly polished silver and keen as a scalpel’s edge.  It has absolutely nothing to it that I associate with “motherly”, but I am willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

The masked man remains silent and I can sense the scrutiny on me.  As he seems disinclined to say or do anything further, I kindly inform him, “A good mother does not allow their child to remain in the hold of strange men.  Also, cookies and milk are usually thrown into the deal.”

My kidnapper, who I have realized is still holding onto me, tightens his grip.  I am unsure if the person who healed me would have responded as he ultimately doesn’t get the chance. 

“Enough.  Bring Interest 236 before me.”

Mr. Twitchy Man immediately takes action.  Before I know what has happened, I find my feet on the floor and face-to-face (or face-to-slightly-above-desk-edge) with Shimura Danzo. 

Otherwise known as the Godfather.  Pfft.  Maybe I should get concussions more often if it gives me this kind of material.

I force my body to relax, limbs loose.  I tuck my hands into the pockets of my sleeveless hoodie and hunch my shoulders a bit.  I hadn’t noticed it when I was in la la land, but it is actually rather chilly here.  Understandable, since we’re underground, but not exactly a plus for their Evil Lair. 

I rock back and forth on my heels and notice a faint sting from my legs.  I think I may have fallen earlier and gotten some scrapes.  Can’t exactly recall all I did or said.  No matter.

Rolling my ankles, I lift my eyes to meet those of the man sitting across from me.  I tilt my head to the side and angle it up.  Eight-year-olds aren’t known for their astounding height and the guy still has a good foot on me sitting down.  Plus, this is one big-ass desk.

The torchlight throws shadows across Danzo’s face.  I’ve never truly believed in the whole “seeing intentions behind people’s eyes” thing, but if I had to place a bet, I’d say his dark eyes are calculating.  Not as calculating as my good ‘ol Science Bro’s eyes, but it’s hard to beat literal snake eyes.

A smile stretches across my face, “So what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?  This kind of dank and chill can’t be good for the ‘ol bones.”

Danzo did not look impressed by my shit, “Hold your tongue, 236.”

I did not hold my tongue, “Could we negotiate that 236 to a 626?”

“Do not natter on about irrelevant matters, child.  You have been brought here for a purpose – not to run your mouth.”

“Unfortunately, I haven’t been informed of this nebulous purpose.”  I attempt to casually lean my arm on the top of the desk, but its height makes the act awkward.  I smoothly take back the motion by patting the desk as if to check its stability. 

Danzo catches my eye and I almost feel a chill run down my back.  Now that I am properly concentrating on him, concussion free, his chakra jolts into stuttering relief.  It roils around him, black and oozing like an oil spill.  If I could dip my fingers into it, I’m sure that is would be gelatinous.  Upon trying to pull my fingers out, they would be stuck.  The sticky consistency would trap them, slowing pulling my hand in like quicksand.  Yes; the likeness of a spiderweb.  The harder you struggle, the more you stick.  His chakra was like a great black spider, created from its own web.

It was a bit weird how his chakra didn’t jump to my attention earlier.  It seems that chakra, or maybe just my sensing, is somehow dampened by the seals that no doubt line this room.

I couldn’t help but wish that I could go back to not seeing it.  Seeing the amorphous spidery energy looming over Danzo, somehow seeming just as intent as his dark eyes, is infinitely more disconcerting than the man himself.

Which, you know, considering chakra is probably a reflection of Self, means that I’m most likely just shit at recognizing threats.

(or maybe it’s that I neglect to care about them.  Lord knows Orochimaru isn’t exactly a teddy bear)

Did I mention that I have a mean case of arachnophobia?

“You,” the old man begins and tendrils of his chakra ooze their way towards me, “are being given the privilege of joining an elite group who is instrumental in protecting Konoha.  You will be given a purpose, an opportunity to protect your home in a way most shinobi never will.  You are small, insignificant, and alone now, but I will make you into something greater.  You will serve under me and become a part of the Roots that hold the great tree of this village steady.  You will no longer be alone in your existence, but a part of a greater Whole.  You will provide its nutrients and be my sword in service of the greater good.  Interest 236…”

Man, is it true that all villains like to monologue?

Something sour seems to swell in the back of my throat and I realize that my grin has dropped.  Danzo seems to take this as a sign that I am now taking him seriously.  His chakra undulates in a way that somehow gets across his satisfaction.  The sour taste has spread to the rest of my mouth.

“It’s 626, actually.”

I have cut him off.  He is displeased.  His voice is dangerously soft, “What?”

It is not a question.  He wants an apology.  He wants me to be grateful that he is offering to crush my sense of individuality and mold me into a cog to fit his fucked up machine.  He wants me to be thankful for this, this honor.  He thinks he is offering a child a bag full of rotten candy wrapped in falsely colorful trappings.  He thinks he is offering a young orphan a house that they do not know will be no home.

He does not want an answer.  He wants compliance and adoration.  He wants a perfect little soldier blindly obedient to the safety of his fucked up little village.

(Oh, how I have always hated the perversion of power)

I answer him.

“Why should I care?  Why do I care about this Village who leaves children in gutters and battlefields to die?  Why in the world do you think that would sway me?  Like I’m stupid enough to think you want to help me.  You don’t want to help anyone but yourself.  And you, sitting on your little throne behind a big desk; acting like you have any real power.  You rule this underground like you have some authority.  But if you had any real power, you’d be up there, in the light.  Not down here in the shadow of ROOTS-”

I taste blood in my mouth and a sharp pain in my head and shoulder before I can register what happened.  Soon throbs sting along the right side of my face.  The cool stone of the ground once again greets my face like an old friend.  I have the sinking suspicion that nothing can keep us truly apart.

That stinking old man bitch-slapped me so hard I think I damn near blacked out.

…To be fair, I may have been asking for it.

I don’t hear the shuffle of his feet so much as sense his presence – elderly he may be, but any fragility in him is a façade.  This world may be very different from its canon counterpart, but having Danzo be a harmless man in terms of ninja ability would be way too convenient for me.

His voice is cold, “I will not tolerate disrespect, child.  Nonetheless from some nameless orphan.  You will do as I say.”

I feel warmth on my face.  I am 97.8% sure that I am bleeding.  Tears stream uselessly down my cheeks from the shock of pain.  It was interesting; I have fought with kids my own age plenty, but this is the first time an adult has physically assaulted me. 

Despite everything, I feel a sting of anger that an adult would lay their hands on a child.  A really useless sentiment in this world. 

The cold chills the palm of my hand as I attempt to push myself up.  This body can take more trauma than the average kid, but getting slapped around by a shinobi is no joke.

I stagger into a rough standing position.  A shadow falls over me.  My eyes sweep up to see Danzo looming above me, his chakra chattering in noiseless rage.  It suddenly stills and then swoops in on me, engulfing me in a transparent sludge.  I nearly fall over again as my chakra sense is overwhelmed. 

Suddenly the pressure is overwhelming.  My knees buckle and I clutch onto the desk to stay aloft.  My sharp nails dig into the wood and I have a flash of petty satisfaction. 

I wheeze out a breath and try to hang onto my senses. 

Right.  This is killing intent.  Nothing I haven’t experienced before; my Bro is kind and nurturing and had the foresight to prepare me for such situations.  This bitch doesn’t have anything on Orochimaru.  You’ve seen worse, me – you’ve seen death.  Can’t let this spidery asshole getcha down.

I take in a gasping breath then breathe out through my nose.  I tilt my head back and see Danzo through the dim.  His true emotions are finally on display.  I see his smugness and lingering rage carved in the lines around his eyes and mouth. I see my reflection in his eyes.  He sees mingling blood, tears, and saliva; shock on my face and the struggle to stay upright in the face of his wrath.  Any child – any rational person for that matter – would step down in the face of such a power difference.

…

Like I give a shit

My fingers twitch and I slowly raise my arm.  I stick out my tongue, ignoring the tang of blood and the smarting of my face, and carefully grab it.

I then maintain direct eye contact with the man standing over me.

“What are you doing.”

“Oo ‘old me tah ‘old my tongue, ‘illy ‘oose.”

There is the moment of silence, like that before a storm cloud unleashes torrents of rain.  Deep inside me I think there may have been the faint stirring of fear, but it has been a while since I have feared for my life.  I did my best to smile.

I feel his chakra smooth out and know that he has probably labeled me as more of an annoyance than I will ever be an asset.  I subtly circulate my chakra to my left hand and leave it to hum directly underneath my skin.  I may be hopelessly outmatched, but I still wanna bite back a little.

My muscles tense as I see him slowly raise a hand.  It is wrinkled and its veins stick out sharply.  I feel mild dissatisfaction that such an ugly hand will kill me. 

The moment is still, taught with tension, before it is broken with a surge of swift movement, chakra, and warm blood.

Said blood splashes on my face, mingling with what is already there.  It slides down the curve of my cheek, trickling down my throat until it pools at its base.  In the corner of my eye I see Mr. Twitchy Man slump to his knees.  The sharp gleam of the sword holding the rest of his body aloft catches my attention.  The ANBU behind him fluidly pulls his weapon from the corpse, adroitly flicking the sword to rid it of any lingering blood.  The body slumps to the ground, meeting it with a meaty thump.

It happens in seconds.

My senses sharpen and everything in the room seems over-bright despite the dim lighting.  My mind is clear and I pick apart my observations clinically. 

The ANBU who just killed my kidnapper is not the same as my masked healer-mom.  I see him in the corner, locked together with another masked person – female this time.  Although I can’t  make out the words over the sudden annoying buzzing in my ears, she seems to be yelling at him.  Maybe she knows him.

Danzo sighs and I twitch, somehow having forgotten him.  I glance at his face.  He seems more affronted than anything.  As if the slaughter of one of his men is an inconvenience. 

“I suppose you followed this child.  I do not know why you came; you should know you will not be leaving.”

The sword wielding ANBU does not seem fazed, “you are under arrest, Danzo-sama.”

Danzo’s chakra tightens in outrage, “How dare you!  The insolence I have had to deal with this night.  Do not speak to me in that manner, boy.  You are not under the Hokage’s jurisdiction down here.”

“In fact,” the man drawls unconcernedly, deceivingly nonchalant, “It is under the Hokage’s orders that you are to be arrested.”

The older man pauses, showing the first signs of honest shock that I have seen.  His body is still for a moment before he suddenly draws himself up.  He sneers to himself, “Sarutobi, you fool.  Now you choose to grow a spine,” he then addresses the man across the room, “even you two will not be enough to take me, nonetheless surrounded by my men.”

“Hm.  You must be slipping, Danzo-sama, if you think we came alone.”

A nicely timed thump sounded from outside of the door, despite the fact that I’m sure that there were some type of sound seals in the room.  But considering the fact there are legit ANBU here, I guess the security seals would be moot too. 

Danzo snorts derisively, “It will never be enough.  The Roots are deeper and hardier than the branches of the tree.”

The ROOT leader falls back into the shadows and pauses briefly to glance at me, “I will not bother killing the girl; she is of more use to me alive and confounding you than dead,” then subsequently disappears.

“…Screw you too, you wannabe Godfather.”

The ANBU’s chakra, blazing white and all jagged fangs and claws, curls in a slight approximation of bemusement, before flattening out to battle-ready.  He seems to check the mostly stalled-out fight in the corner of the room before addressing me. 

“You are no good in this fight, so don’t try to be a hero.  Unfortunately, we don’t have the resources to spare to get you out, so try to find your own way.  Take a right, stick to the shadows, and try not to die.  Oh, and,” he suddenly appears before me and slaps my already smarting cheek, causing me to jerk wildly, “For the shock.”

With those uplifting words and a smack, newly dubbed ANBU Asshole disappears from the room, no doubt in pursuit of Wrinkly Asshole.  

I shake my head, blinking my eyes and coming out from a daze.  Maybe he was right about the shock.  Doesn’t make him any less of a shitty person.  And who the hell leaves an eight-year-old in the middle of a battlefield?  Ninja.

A shout alerts me to the other side of the room and I have a second to dive behind the sturdy desk before sebon spike the area where I had been previously standing.  I poke my head out and take in the fight, concluding I wasn’t the real target of the attack.

I look to the side and see the door.  I suddenly have the irresistible urge to get out of this hellhole, overwhelming the exhaustion I can feel tugging at my limbs.  With one more glance to make sure the combatants aren’t interested in me, I dash across the room.

Upon reaching the door, I fumble with the cool metal of the knob.  It doesn’t turn and I realize it’s locked.  I feel a moment of panic before I remember that I lock pick freaking Gingara.  I swiftly run my already buzzing chakra into the locking mechanism and force it to unlock.  With a push, the door swings open into a hallway with even poorer lighting than the room behind me.

The female ANBU suddenly gives a scream of rage and a crash sounds.  I instinctually jolt forward, foot catching on the ground and almost tripping.  I blink rapidly in the near darkness and the sounds of more fighting assaults my ears.  I press a cold hand to my cheek (already extra sore – thanks ANBU Asshole) and wince when it throbs in reply. I quickly pull my hand back and note that it is smeared with blood.  Probably not all my own.

I flick my hand to wipe away the blood, take a deep breath, and run into the darkness.

Look: a bonus omake!  Wow!  Amazing!

This is set in a universe where Mr. Twitchy Man (RIP) chose a different time to abduct our Miki.  There are slightly different results.  There may also be continuations, but be warned: this universe is even crazier than the normal one, somehow.

The moon was high, the night still. It was a weekday, so the streets lacked the bustle of nightlife that the weekends often brought.  The Red Light District, of course, never slept.  But even though Sukoshi Hana bordered the unsavory neighborhood, it was still far enough away that the streets were essentially deserted.

The ROOT agent peered with the moon into the room where his mark resided.  He decided that it was time to strike.  All of the other children in the orphanage had retired for the night, leaving his mark as the sole presence in what seems to be some sort of playroom.  The caretaker was still awake upstairs, but was also flat-out drunk and therefore her hypothetical interference was negligible. 

With a slip of his fingers the window silently opened and he ghosted into the room.  The child’s back was turned to him, hunched over something he couldn’t see.  He made no noise as he approached.  The shinobi readied himself to knock his mark into unconsciousness when her head suddenly whipped around.

He twitched in surprise as her brown eyes unerringly found him.  She did not seem the least bit surprised nor intimidated that a strange man stood in the same room as her.  It must be as Danzo-sama said it was, unsurprisingly.  His leader had warned him that his mark could see intention through chakra, and was liable to know of his intentions and presence beforehand. 

She would truly be an asset to ROOT.

“I know why you’re here,” his mark’s voice rang out, the clear, high voice of a child.

The apparent calmness of the child told the agent that she had accepted her fate.  As such, he offered his hand, thinking that she could come before Danzo-sama with all the dignity one may have before their leader.

Therefore, he was unduly startled when rage sparked in her eyes, “You cannot take him.”

Confused at her words, he said, “You will-”

“No!” the girl seemed to clutch something to her chest, out of his line of sight.

Thinking she may have some sort of weapon, he demanded, “Give me-”

The girl sprang up, turning her body so that the object came into view, “I said no!  Not Usagi-chan, you bastard!”

He couldn’t help the slight twitch his body gave in surprise as a rabbit with an odd moon shape around its eye stared dispassionately at him from where it was clutched to the child’s chest.

“You-”

“I knew this day would come.  Usagi-chan may be the most magical of magical girls, but you can’t have him!  I cannot let his power be used for evil!”

Perhaps this animal was some sort of summon?  From what he could parse out from her words, it must be a powerful one at that.  The creature looked so unassuming – perhaps the girl was merely spewing nonsense.

But then the agent recalled the big mess the girl had caused to defend the rabbit.  ROOT had assessed that is was merely a diversion, but perhaps the rabbit had truly been a motivation (along with avoiding his fellow ROOT agent) for her behavior?

Taking this into consideration, he decided to take the rabbit too.

“For Kami’s sake- this is pitiful.  I will end this now before she infects the everything with her madness.”

The man was alarmed to find that the Snake Sannin had appeared next to him.  Before he had a chance to get away, the stronger man already had him in his grasp.

“I swear, if you persist in pulling the rest of the world into your delusions…” The ROOT agent could hear no more of the other man’s rasping voice, falling into the darkness of unconsciousness.  His last thought was that he must inform Danzo-sama of this “Usagi-chan’s” value, if even the Snake Sannin was willing to step in to protect it.

Chapter Text

There is a good chance I did not go the way ANBU Asshole directed me.  Like a solid 62%.  Mayhap 73%.

It’s rather hard to tell considering I’m in a dark underground labyrinth with literal ninja killing each other in the shadows.  This isn’t always quiet killing either – I’d already narrowly missed being buried alive once after one of the tunnels collapsed.  Could have been a jutsu, could have been someone Green Beast level punching the hell out of a wall.

I’ve also almost been roasted alive by a raging fire.  Almost knifed I can’t tell you how many times.  Thrown to the ground or into walls when caught in the middle of conflict or in a desperate attempt to get the hell outta the way.  So I’ve probably almost died about twenty times so far.

It’s been like ten minutes. 

I press my back against a cold stone wall and breathe slowly, attempting to get my bearings.  I lurk in the shadows of one of the hallways where the torches have either already gone out or been otherwise destroyed.  It seems pretty hit or miss with whether or not a passage will be at all lit.  Even the passageways with some dim light from torches are still swathed with puddles of darkness where the light can’t reach.  And as everyone knows, anything can be in the dark.

Goddamn villains and their need for dramatic flair.  Like, you could’ve installed some fucking electric lights Danzo.  This isn’t the damned Warring Clans era.

A sudden low ringing in my ears alerts me to the fact that I am once again panicking.  I take in a deep breath and let it hiss out as quietly as I can.  I stay absolutely still and try to let my heart calm.  I close my eyes, letting the chill of the stone behind me sink into my skin as I reach a hand up to massage the slowly forming headache behind my eyes.

Contrary to what one might assume, the headache is not from stress (well, there may be a bit of that) nor from any lingering effects my lovely masked healer may have missed from my previous concussion.  Rather, it’s from all the thrice damned chakra.

I hadn’t noticed it so much in Danzo’s Boss Room due to whatever seals lined the place, but the sheer volume and scale of the chakra signatures stuck here underground with me became readily apparent within minutes of me taking off.  The people fighting down here, for the most part, aren’t genin nor chunin (are there even any ROOT agents below ANBU level?) – they’re the elite type with their stupid amount of chakra.  Not to mention they’re throwing that chakra around in often flashy jutsu that are bound to bring the ceiling down on our collective heads.

The air feels like molasses and for the first time in a while it feels like chakra’s sheer presence will suffocate me.  It hasn’t been this bad in years.  While I can get a bit out of breath and lightheaded in the presence of someone with particular power, like my main man Orochimaru, or volume, like Naruto when he’s being a dumbass and throwing his chakra around like nobody’s business, I haven’t felt like I could just die from it in so long.  I’d honestly thought I’d outgrown it. 

But, then, there’s a difference between someone’s passive chakra and active.  The latter is much more intense, and I’ve only really been around academy students throwing their weight around.  I knew that, but I didn’t think—

I haven’t felt so helpless since those early days.  Those days where my body wouldn’t obey me, and I had too many thoughts in my head and the air was suffocating me and it felt like insects were skittering around underneath my skin and I knew, I knew something was wrong, but I just, I couldn’t do anything whereamI—

I open my eyes wide, feeling panic choke the back of my throat.  My breathing hitches and I fight for it to go back to normal.  Think about something else.  Strategize.  Complain.

(I sure as shit can complain)

I mean, it just figures the talent that should give me an advantage in this hellhole is actually a liability.  My chakra sense should give me an extra edge in being able to navigate easily in the dark while most others would have to rely on instinct.  I should be able to easily identify where the ninja lurking in the dark are and sneak around fights until I can find my way to freedom.

Unfortunately, as always, my life is one long ruinous Shakespearean tragedy.  Alas, my strength has become weakness and turned on me in a most inopportune twist of fate.  Now all I need to find out is that Danzo is actually my (god)father and we had been turned against one another by time and fate!

…I take that last one back.  I don’t want that man’s genes anywhere near me.

An involuntary shutter flows through me; I swear I can still feel that guy’s sludgy chakra creeping just outside of my senses.  Every pool of darkness seems to be home for the spiderlike energy to lay in wait for an unwitting victim.

The dark – I’ve never been particularly scared of it, but I’ve always had a vivid imagination that loves to run wild.  It has a lovely habit of coming up with unlimited horrors waiting patiently for me under the cover of darkness.  And not only do I have a lifetime of horror movies in my head, but actual bullshit ninja magic killers waiting to off me.

Thinking about it, I’ve probably been in one place for too long.  I need to move on soon, but I wasn’t joking about my ability turning against me.  I try to spread my awareness and pinpoint chakra signatures. A sharp pain blisters through my mind and I flinch, grabbing my head in agony.

I gasp in pain and my eyes flutter, seeing nothing but black with a faint glow towards my right.  It looks like I will only be able to rely on passive sensing to alert me to immediate danger.  In other words, I won’t be able to navigate in the dark with any degree of certainly.  Looks like I’m going to stick to the lighter areas where it’s even easier for homicidal ninjas to see me.  Ideal.

I sigh and do my best to ignore the pain in my head.  An advantage to being trained as a child soldier is that we’ve been taught how to shake off pain from the start of the academy.  This goes under the category of most of the other practical lessons I learn from ninja school: useful, if horrifying.

 I stand up and shake my legs.  I take a step forward and a stab at my best impression of being silent.  I trail my hand along the wall to my right, fingers skimming the occasionally smooth, occasionally rough surface.

I pad along until I’m on the edge of light.  I stop and strain my (non-chakra) senses in an effort to detect danger.  I can hear the distance rumble of fights, but the sounds seem weirdly muted.  There are probably some kind of seals or otherwise weird jutsu-y nonsense lining this place, considering it hasn’t all come down on our collective heads yet.  It’s possible that something may be interfering with how one can perceive things.  This is, after all, an underground cult-insurgency that the Hokage is not supposed to know about.  For all that obviously didn’t work out.  There must be something that stops all the superhuman people in the village with enhanced senses from being able to detect an underground hive.

In that vein, it’s possible that something here may also be interfering with my chakra sensing on top of my oversensitivity acting up.  Not like I’d be able to tell unless people cut this shit out and the absolute chakra saturation down here miraculously broke down instead of lingered.

I hum in the back of my throat and decide to walk into the light, as you are never supposed to do.  I shuffle into the relative light of the corridor, which would still be considered dim as hell just about anywhere else.  Straining my eyes doesn’t show me anything alarming.  The earthen hallway continues down for a while (I have no sense of distance, so don’t ask me to estimate) until it hits a dark end and looks to split off into two forked paths.  Four or five doors pockmark the otherwise featureless walls. 

It’s a bit frustrating that I can’t just check if anyone’s within the rooms, considering I can normally locate people blocks away if I want to.  Any temptation I have is pretty firmly pushed down by the constant dull throb in the back of my head and the struggle to keep my body from thinking it’s being drowned in chakra.  Just that thought makes me swallow roughly, feeling as if there’s something blocking my throat.

I give a little shake of my head and wince before creeping forward.  Hiding out in a room right now sounds rather nice, to be honest.  Even if not necessarily practical since I’d be literally backed into a corner if anyone should decide to come in or, I don’t know, somehow set this place on fire. 

The urge to snoop around a bit in petty vengeance is also there.  But most of all I just want to get the hell out of here and never go underground again.  I’ve never been claustrophobic like I know some people—(your mom was, you remember her right Oh shut up not now)—to be, but being trapped in an anthill full of psychopathic murderers will make anyone develop a certain aversion.  Plus, I just don’t like the feeling of being trapped,  full stop.

And the constant threat of dying, I guess. 

I pad along, eyeing the doors but not entering any.  When I reach the end of the hallway I end up going left after a flare of chakra to the right sends me staggering.  I continue on that way for a while, having to backtrack every so often when fights sound a bit too close or I head towards somewhere where the chakra is just so saturated that it’s too oppressive to move forward. 

Even though my sensing is shot to hell, at least I can still wrap my chakra up into an unnoticeable ball perfectly well.  The state of the former even negates the negative effects of the latter, where my range is significantly cut down.  Now I’m leaning on my ability to null my presence to avoid confrontation. 

It is a hard fought ability.  You can’t sense yourself very well, or if at all, so it’s hard to tell if it’s working.  On top of that it’s a bit of a weird experience to try and withdraw your chakra from where it’s flowing through you and stuff it into a little ball in your gut. 

Or that’s what I imagine I’m doing at least.  You would think it would feel uncomfortable or cold with how I explained it, but it actually feels as if you were hiding under the covers.  Warm, maybe a bit stifled, but safe.  It’s a bit of a reflex now when I want to avoid people (cough Ino and the Fan Girls) but it doesn’t exactly work when they can already see you.  Took a while to accomplish to any given degree, even with my freaky manipulation.

But when you’re trying to avoid Orochimaru, one must pull out all the stops.  He may not be an active sensor, but when a ninja reaches a certain level they tend to gain some skill in passive sensing.  It’s like when people say you have a sixth sense that lets you know if someone’s there.  It can also unconsciously lead you in the direction of someone you’re looking for if you’re familiar enough with their chakra.  It’s much easier to hide from a passive sensor than active, since passives tend to only sense the excess chakra one unconsciously releases into their surroundings (though ninja often stop doing that the more control and discipline they gain).

Not that hiding from my Bro usually works.  The man knows.

Man, this is probably his fault somehow.  Things usually are.  I’m going to write him an song and serenade him.  There will be no escape.

I jerk out of my thoughts when I hear a rumbling from behind me.  I perk my ears and listen harder, straining my eyes in the dim light of the hallway I’m currently in.  Yep, the sound is definitely getting closer.

“Fuck.”

That may very well be a cave in heading my way.  Or a particularly epic ninja fight producing unidentifiable sounds.  Both equally deadly.  I also do not know how to deal with either.

So, run.  Right.

In between one breath and the next I’m sprinting.  I ignore the aches in my body resultant from this night.  Or however long I’ve been here.  I gasp in the stale air and stop trying to be quiet as I have had 0% success at running silently in my training so far. 

I hook a right at a pass and keep going, hoping to put some distance between me and the sound.  I realize that I’ve run passed combatants as red hot pain stings my arm and I understand it’s been sliced, probably with a kunai.  The sudden pain makes me falter, but over the sounds of my gasping breaths I can hear the rumble even closer, so I continue on.  I also don’t want to test whatever prevented that kunai from hitting somewhere vital. 

I hear a yell from behind me, catching a “Doton-”, before my feet are suddenly out from under me and the earth is fucking moving. 

Shit, shit- is this is an earthquake or- no, wait, earth ninjutsu thing, so not the sound.  So what’s the sound, why the jutsu—

Another shout and a gurgle of pain fills my ears before the earth stops moving and with a tilt of my head (when’d I get on the ground?) I realize that the floor has risen in several places, and this fact and the somewhat panicked cursing of one of the two ninja behind me confuses me before the rumbling is overwhelming and a giant wave of water comes spilling over where a wall of earth rose just feet from the ceiling and crashes towards me.

I have but moments to catch and hold my breath before a force concusses me and I’m suddenly surrounded by cold and dark as the water sweeps me along.

It vaguely registers in my head that the water must have put out the sconces that made any light available at all.  Most of any rational thought is drowned out by panic.  The already preexisting panics of being trapped in a murder labyrinth, my chakra sense not working, and my condition acting up joins forces with the oh god I’m gonna drown panic and becomes a force of Super Panic.  Doesn’t help that this water is clearly from a jutsu since of course more goddamn chakra is pressing up against my sensing.

But, like, no, no time for a panic attack, me.  Gotta have air first before you lose it all in tightening of the throat and gasping breaths.  Gotta get outta the goddamn water first. No, no drowning. 

(You know what mom was also afraid of—Oh my God shut the fuck up this is not the time—)

I flail and try to make my way up, somehow, but I could have been heading down for all I knew.  There is no light to tell which was which since I was in a fucking underground cave system.

And, well, there’s the thought that the water may fill up the entire hallway and there is no air to breathe, but that’s a decidedly Not Nice thought and we’re going to ignore that.

On top of not knowing which direction to move, the water is a riptide whipping me this way and that in its inexorable movement forward.  It’s hard to fight against it to move anywhere but where it wants me to be.  Especially when this body has a very limited experience in swimming in the first place.  Even more powerful limbs and a somewhat extended lung capacity compared to those of children in my world will only last me so long at this rate.  Especially when I have nothing to hold on to-

Sharp pain jars my shoulder as water rockets me into a solid object.  I unconsciously exert my chakra and suction onto it as hard and I can.  The water harshly buffets me as it whips pass, but I am no longer towed in its wake.

I take a moment to gather myself and try to blink out disorientation.  Considering I’m still underwater, this doesn’t necessarily help much.  I observe what I pretty much already knew; complete darkness with no indication to which way is up.  My brain can’t even come up with a way of figuring it out even if my chakra sense wasn’t making me want to gag. 

As I mentally catch my breath I realize I have very little actual breath left.  The burn in my lungs is real and I know I have little time left before my body decides Game Over.  So I don’t think about it and start climbing ‘up’, or the direction my head is facing.

Climbing in itself is not an easy job.  Although the impromptu river of water feels like it may have  marginally slowed down, it is still the fastest current of water I have experienced in both my lives.  Every time I unstick a hand or leg from the wall to painstakingly pull myself further up, I’m sure I’ve been swept slightly father to the left.  This becomes increasingly true as I do not break through the water and become more desperate. 

I grit my teeth and feel my lungs will fail me at any second.  I scrabble more desperately as my chakra control becomes sloppier.  I keep going, one after another. Come on, come on…

Another inch up

And another

Death feels closer than it did earlier, with Danzo.  I had honestly thought he was going to kill me but it wasn’t the same.  Somehow, it was expected, maybe?  When you think about dying here, where I am, it’s not surprising for it to be Danzo. 

Another

You’re kidnapped to an underground lair where you meet a politician villain that you distinctly don’t like, lose your temper, get bitch slapped, and are like “yeah, I’m gonna die.”  And it’s really, kinda, almost like a joke.  Because, yeah, you’re in the Naruto world.

AnotherAnother

Danzo’s certainly a viable option to get killed by.  Hell, I’ve thought Orochimaru would kill me many a time; still might.  But that’s still par for course, isn’t it?  Danzo, Orochimaru, Pein, Tobito, Zetsu.  Hell, Zabuza, Haku, Gaara, Itachi. 

Another—

It’s all according to script, isn’t it?  Getting killed by villain characters, or at least “misunderstood” ones.

But drowning alone underground in a jutsu some dumbass shinobi extra summoned?  That’s not something you unconsciously expect.  Not something you feel like you can accept.  Ignoble, maybe.  But it’s not like my first death was so dignified either.  So why does this bother me beyond basic survival instinct?

What do I have to live for?  What does death mean to me, when I’ve already lost everyone I’ve ever loved and everything I’ve worked for?  When I live in this frankly fucked up world, no matter how I play in it?  When this isn’t even the same story I loved as a child?

Anoth—

Why—

I gasp as my head breaks the surface, eyes blinking wildly.  The surprise and relief momentarily relaxes my grip on my chakra, causing me to jerk to the left and almost go back under as the water catches me up. 

I choke on a cry and quickly reassert my grip.     I spare a moment to just breathe, trying to soothe the burning of my lungs and aching limbs.  Darkness still pervades and the rushing of the water is almost overwhelming.  I have no sense of where or how far the water took me and a chill shivers through my body at the combination cool air and cold water.

But my moment of relative peace is broken as I hear splashes and shouts behind me and realize that the ninja that had been in the same corridor as me are likely not dead and were in fact better equipped than me to handle random floods.

So I decide to keep going up.

While water walking is theoretically within my capabilities, I’m not feeling up to the whole trial by fire thing and my body feels like it’s half jelly.  A nice solid wall or ceiling would be preferable.

Plus, I want nothing to do with water at the moment. 

(fear death by water)

So I firm my chakra and begin to pull up.  I begin to tremble as soon as I pull myself out of the water, my body registering that it is in fact fucking cold.  There is a way to circulate chakra to heat yourself up, I can do it in a rudimentary manner, but it is already bad enough that I had to unfurl my chakra to climb.  Circulating it leaves an even bigger margin for sensing.  Plus, I don’t think shivers will be the thing that kills me in this situation.

I continue to pull myself upwards.  In about five or six body lengths I hit the ceiling.  Thinking about it, this corridor seems higher than the others I’ve been in.  A particularly violent shiver wracks my body at the thought if the water hadn’t swept me here or if I had tried to get out at a different hallway.

But then, the water can’t be unlimited, since the chakra in it feels like its shaped, or from a jutsu, as opposed to natural chakra.  So someone didn’t accidently hit an underground water source or something.  With all the divergent paths in this place, the water will have to spread thin eventually. 

Still, the ceiling feels rather solidly lovely and completely dry so let’s go up there for a while.  I slide my hand onto the smooth surface of the ceiling then edge the rest of my body onto it.  I wince slightly at the feel of being upside down and my aching head heartily disapproves.  Probably not the best choice but my need to be as far away from the water as possible may be a little unreasonable, I can admit.

Once again, there is totally a way to regulate this because ninjas go spider man and hang upside down all the time, but this one I don’t know at all.  I’ve hung upside down before but I’ve never felt the need to stay for extended periods of time.  So I’ve never learned the trick behind making sure your blood doesn’t rush to your head and your balance doesn’t go wonky. Well, now I certainly have some motivation.

I’m sure Iruka shall be thrilled at my new motivation to selectively learn.

Curled up against the ceiling nestled in the crack of the wall, I rest.  I slow my breathing and attempt to regain a sense for silence in anticipation of the ninja fight I know is approaching me.  The sound of metal hitting metal and disturbed water grows closer.  Hopefully I’d remain unnoticed as they pass and then be able to wander along the ceilings and walls until I find a part of the base not flooded with water.

I breathe steadily and stare into the darkness.

Breathe.  Relax.

Breathe

Breathe

Breathe

Then, between one moment and the next, brilliant light roars into being.

The sudden brightness burns my eyes and it is only surprise that keeps them widened to take in what is happening.

Lightening arcs through the water, painting the deep liquid with streaks of white.  It lunges and twists like snakes, dancing through the liquid and above it.

A crackling fills my ears, the low grumble of radio static.  Less jarring than the sudden light but no less potent.

A hiss growls out the back of my throat as some of the electricity arches up to meet me.  It dances along my still wet skin, leaving trails of white hot pain as it goes.  I can feel my hair, previously matted to my head, fluff out and stand on end, as if I were a cat raising its hackles.

A burning smell assaults my nose where only a dank dampness with a hint of something metallic had been.  I yelp and my body jolts involuntarily with electric pulses. 

My left leg unsuctions itself from the ceiling, my heart jolts, and I’m not sure if lightening or fear will give me a heart attack first.

I slam my leg back to the surface, ignoring any pain, and completely flatten myself out onto the ceiling.  I ride out the jolting of my body, ignore the feeling of burning, trying to pretend I can’t smell something cooking.

No, whatever is happening to me here many lengths above the water, it would be so much worse in it.

I open my eyes again, not realizing they had closed, and look down, blinking rapidly at the dark spots clouding my vision.

But they couldn’t prevent me from seeing the dark shape back lighted by the lightening.  It floats along the water, steadily sinking deeper but still clearly visible in the vivid arcs of light.  It takes but a second to place the shape; especially with the other similarly shaped one floating farther away, appearing to be faintly twitching.

I am distantly thankful my face is already facing vaguely downward as nausea hits me and vomit forces its way out of my mouth.  It meets the water with a plop and sizzle as my eyes don’t leave the bug eyed face of the charred corpse flowing steadily away from me.

The smell of cooked flesh assaults my nose anew and my stomach knots itself until I’m retching, one hand leaving the ceiling until my face faces fully downward.

I hiss and spit, the rancid taste in my mouth actually preferable as it chases away some of the smell in the air.  My eyes stream and my nose runs and I’m gasping and quivering and in pain.  Oh God, dear lord—

Then the light is suddenly gone  as quickly as it came.  I hang for a moment, dangling still and stunned.

I huddle into a ball, eyes closed and shivering, doing my absolute best to concentrate on keeping my chakra flow steady in the face of the involuntary jolts my body is still giving.  I cling to the ceiling with all my will because I sure as shit am never going in that water again.

I try and blank my mind, try to ignore the burns I can now feel scorching my body. Nothing deadly, nothing like- well.  Well.  

It was just more pain on top of  what I already have.  But damn, damn this is some kind of hell place I’m in, isn’t it?  Like what the hell, it’s like I’m going through some goddamn trial or something.  Like, I don’t think whoever the fuck solved the labyrinth in Greek mythology had to deal with this  holy flood, heavenly lightning bullshit.  Just had to fight a bullman or something dumb like that.

I mean that one girl just had to fight a glittery David Bowie in leggings and some muppets on acid.  God, I’d totally go for that; where’re my creepy muppet companions?  I could use some saving the day through the Power of Friendship™  right about now.  Naruto’s hair even kind of matches the red ones who get a cut scene and dismember themselves.  How’d that song go?

“So when things get too tough,

Something about something dragging on the ground,

And even down looks up,

Bad luck”              

…

Heh

I don’t realize I’m snickering until it rattles my already unsteady body.  I clamp a hand down across my mouth, feeling the remains of something wet and the grinning outline of my teeth press into my palm.

I open my eyes to darkness, fluttering my eyelashes to get rid of the excess tears.  I feel them curl away from my eyes, dripping around them and spiraling downwards across my forehead before reaching the mass of wildness that is my electrified hair.  

Heh, electric blue.

I try in vain to stop the newest round of snickers from bubbling up from my gut.  My eyes sting from the burning light.  My head feels like it’s about to fall off.  My body is ready to throw a rebellion. 

I can’t stop laughing. 

I press my hand harder against my mouth, curl around my stomach and try to find a semblance of calm in my mind.  But it’s blank, nothing but inane thoughts whirling through it.  Nothing but references that don’t even apply in this world and observations that don’t hurt to think.

I blink, expecting to be greeted by more darkness when I open them, only to find myself gazing at two red pinpricks.  They are about on the same level I’m on.  I blink again and they’re closer.  Again and they’re close enough that I can see they’re eyes.

Two bright red eyes that glow like twin blood moons on a starless night.  Giving off light but somehow not leeching any of the shadows out of the darkness.  Two pools of ink sit in the middle of each eye.  Black commas orbit around them as if they hold some kind of dark gravity.  They spiral lazily, languidly, and I feel caught up in their dance. 

I can’t look away.

I blink and the eyes may be a little closer but I can’t really tell at this point.  I feel my eyes open wide and I try to hold the bloody stare and not blink.  The other doesn’t blink either.

It still smells of burning. 

Even with only passive sensing I can feel chakra brush up against me.  It is the still brother of the dark water below me, calm and deep and deadly.  I feel like I’m drowning.

The only sounds are the gentle rush of water and my muffled laughter. 

There is only red and black.

Slowly, another shape forms into view.  Where there was once darkness, a light starts to grow.  It is dim at first before it steadily becomes brighter, a fire stroked to life.  A white crescent carves itself into existence, a gentle curve framing the two pinpricks of red. 

A grinning smile salutes me.  I can see glittering fire roil behind the teeth, so hot that it burns white.

If I wasn’t upside down it would be a frown.

The eyes narrow slightly with the appearance of the grin, the spiraling dance imperceptibly quickening.  I see the neat white lines of teeth part, a crack opening between tombstones.  Fire licks its way out between them.  The sound of something close to a sigh and the flames suddenly lurch closer—

I blink.

The apparition is gone.  It couldn’t have been there but for a few moments.

A demon had smiled at me.

(It wasn’t a demon, you know that you sure about that?)

Right.

My breath escapes me in a great whoosh and I’m suddenly not laughing any more.  The grin had taken my laughter with it.

Right.

Well, this has made my situation clear to me. 

Obviously, I was thinking too literally in terms of “labyrinths”.

Obviously, I am currently moonlighting as Alice.  Didn’t they sometimes call it the “Underground” instead of Wonderland?  It fits perfectly!  I clearly just met my (demonic) Cheshire Cat.

Mr. Twitchy is my (dead) white rabbit, who was late in getting me to Danzo.  Who is the Red Queen of his hive-mind card minions.  I guess ANBU Asshole could be the Mad Hatter who people always interpret as my ally in spin offs but is really just kinda a dick who doesn’t do much but give unhelpful advice. 

That’s not everyone, I’m pretty sure, but, hey, it’s not like I’ve found my way out of wonderland yet.  I’m still curled up here on the ceiling in the dark above a most likely still somewhat electrified impromptu river of water with no clue how to get out.  I giggle (ope, nope, there’s the laughter; it’s never really gone) and it sounds a little crazy even to my own ears, but that’s okay.

We’re all mad here, after all.

Chapter Text

Asset 198 was not quite sure how things devolved to this point.  It had been a relatively normal day of operation, reports coming in smoothly and agents reporting no disturbances.  As with all shinobi organizations, there are always hiccups in operations, but Danzo-sama had trained them into incomparable competence. 

And yet.

Somehow within the course of the night things had devolved into an all-out battle within their own base.  There had been no prior warning.  In one moment all was the efficiency of a well-oiled machine. Then a sudden sharp moment of preternatural knowing.  It is a sense that all shinobi develop after so long; an unknowable yet undeniable shift in the brain.  A sense that simply says:

It comes

And then red painted the intricate, spiraling tunnels that housed the dark things that lived under the earth.  The attackers, of course, were no more or less than They.  The attackers merely lived in the shadows between the light rather than in the deep, absolute darkness where light never touched at all.  To her it seemed like they, the other dark ones, were simply living a lie.

She had snapped to attention after that infinite moment of premonition to find invaders within Danzo-sama’s sanctum.  They dressed like Them.  Like Them, moved soundlessly, sharply like a finely-honed blade.  The others knew they were merely branches to extend the reach of a greater tree, just as They knew They were merely roots to hold the trunk steady.

But where she wore a smooth blank mask, the other was painted with deceits.  Only agents that needed to blend in aboveground wore decorated masks.  The image of a stylized frog had faced her, and she couldn’t help the vague sense of scorn that stirred from within her.  These others act as if they are so different than Them, these shadow creatures who pretend to possess individuality, to have the ability to step back into the light.  But 198 knew these sad shades for what they were; a pretense, a lie.

The soft Hokage tried to play nice and act like his soldiers were more than merely stones on a go board.  It was wasteful.  Individuality could breed individual thought, dissent in the ranks, disunifying the Whole.  Danzo-sama did not stoop to these lows just to pretend to be such an anomalous designation like “good”.  What a ridiculous ideal to have in a world like this.

Danzo-sama molded Them into pieces to help Them fit his great mosaic.  They each had Their place, each had Their duty, knowing that They help the village with Their every breath without having to worry about any of the mess that comes with life.  198 may not know of such abstract things, but she believes that this is beautiful. 

The frog shade had attacked her, and though she was not to the level of those within the ANBU, her fellow agents had been around her and managed to overwhelm him.  She had lived, though not without sustaining heavy damage.  The others had not lived; 156 having been too damaged to go on and she leaving them there so that they would not slow her down. 

Now here she was, partially slumped against a wall in one of the southern corridors.  In 3me* if she had to guess.  Her left arm was mostly unusable and there was a gash from her right hip to the thigh.  Blood loss was more than likely affecting her mental processes and reaction time by now, no matter the pressure she put on her wounds.

She moved herself further down the dimly lit hallways.  A thin layer of water moved silently with her footsteps, the water level not even high enough to reliably wet her toes.  There were no underground bodies of water near enough to flood the base.  A very strong suiton user must have caused this.  The sconces along the walls of this hall were still lit, so the water must have not originated from anywhere close.

198 withheld a grunt of displeasure as her injuries twanged in agony.  It was unlikely she would put up much of a fight against the next shadow.  Still, she was a decent sensor and should be able to injure them somewhat before she went down.  Danzo-sama always said to make the most of what you have.  With the last of her life she would make the interlopers regret what they had done.

After all, shadow is only a pale imitation of true darkness.  How could anyone expect to challenge something as all-encompassing as ROOT?  Surely, nothing could truly stop Danzo-sama, their unflappably righteous leader.  Everyone would eventually bow their head to his wisdom.  No one could resist his powerful presence.

Yes, she might die at the hands of one of these ANBU, but it shall be for the sake of the Village, of Danzo-sama.  She may lose the battle to a mere shade of Them, but it is not the war.  The war is far from over.

From beneath They will conquer. 

A twinge

It comes

She looks up in time to see a small shape on the ceiling lunge towards her. She went to fend the attacker off, but her reaction time failed her.  A weight impacted her and she fell to the ground, head smacking and stars racing across her vision. 

Her eyes managed to focus through the slits in her mask to see a brown face with streaks of bright blue haloing it.  A sharp smile leered at her.  Water begins to seep into her hair.

Ah, so this was the end.  One of the Others had gotten her.  They may not be Them, but in these last moments 198 must admit that they are truer a shinobi than any of the others that reside in the above village.  Losing a battle to one is not the worst way to end her service.

That this appears to be a child is not so strange; They have many child agents.  She was recruited as a teenager herself.  Although the lack of mask is strange and the emotion on the face deplorable.  Bad training.  Still, the skill the child used in hiding itself is undeniable. 

In but a moment the child was sure to silently slit her throat and 198 will cease to exist.  The death of a true shinobi.

“You have totally been internally monologuing this whole time.  Does that bastard ass Queen Danzo teach all of his underlings a sense of drama?  Cuz I’m, like, still in school and am pretty sure I shouldn’t have been able to take you down,” a pause, “eh, whatever.  Have you seen the Caterpillar?  I know I haven’t found everyone.  Just keep findin’ card soldiers.  Real annoying.  So?”

What.

Through 198’s swimming head, light brown eyes come into focus.  They are bright and sharp, yet look through her as if she is not truly there.  The child’s head tilts but the smile doesn’t waver.  It hums, “I guess not all NPCs have dialogue.  Oh well!”

She feels the small body on her shift before a palm strikes into her. 

A moment passes.  Then her chest feels as if it’s on fire.  If she hadn’t already been half unconscious from blood loss, she may have dissected what exactly she was feeling.  Because she knew all flavors of pain – cuts, broken bones, ruptured organs – and this was none of them.

As it is, she only had a moment to hear “Ow shitfu-” and give half a thought to who the hell was killing her, before she went back to the dark.

“Motherfucker,” I hiss, desperately wishing for the pain in my left arm to recede. 

In the intervening time of getting kidnapped, concussed, downed, and electrocuted, I seem to have forgotten that I had also had my chakra bitch-slapped by that sorry ass Hyuga earlier today.  Actually, was it today?  How long have I been here, exactly?

Oh well, not like time’s real anyway.  Never had a sense for it in the first place.  And it definitely shouldn’t be in Wonderland, I should think.

Either way, the strain the Poke of Doom placed on my arms seem to be rearing its head.  My chakra isn’t blocked anymore – prodigy he may be, but Neji isn’t quite strong enough to produce that lasting of an effect – but my tenketsu are most likely going to be sore and prone to strain for a few days.  Those ruptures he gave me hurt like a bitch.

So, like, not ideal.  Maybe I was just doing so well that I had to have a handicap put on me!

I grin to myself, feeling some of the lightly toasted skin on the left side of my face crack.

I pat my arm in an effort to convince it to settle down, have a moment to regret doing that thanks to the lightening burns racing up it, then decide to go looking for other characters.  Someone has to be important down here. Characters with speaking rolls have information, information that should allow me to get the fuck outta here.

Like, I’m not even asking for the caterpillar or the march hare (who was maybe the other ANBU that entered with the Mad Hatter?) or anything.  Even a face card with some dialogue would do.  I don’t remember if there’s actually a distinction between face cards or numbered in the story, but I gotta hold out hope for something.

 I begin to trot down the corridor, shoes swishing idly through the water.  I eye the liquid suspiciously, but I’m long from the torrent of electrified water.  This is nice, as I certainly could still crawl around the ceiling without using my arms/hands, but I’ll have less stability.  Hopefully I can just walk for a bit and rest those tenketsu. 

Probably not the brightest idea that I Spiked my chakra into the NPC to get rid of them quickly, but it’s not like I have any weapons on me or am strong enough to generate a lot of force by myself.  Well, actually, I probably totally should have looted them for some weapons.

I glance backwards in the dim light, seeing the dark slump of the body and the eerie white of the mask.

I look forward.  Oh well, too late.

…Well no, not actually too late.  I could run back there and do it.  I just feel literally zero motivation to backtrack.  Also, seems like I’d be just asking for a jumpscare.  Fast pass. 

My eyes dart around the corridor.  It looks like all the other ones.  I take a deep breath and can’t help but smile a bit.  At least it seems that the chakra in the air is less dense.  Maybe I’m towards the outer reaches of the base or away from centralized fighting. 

Which probably means less characters to run into.   But also means I might be able to chance letting go of my chakra sense a bit and actually being able to locate someone without wandering around aimlessly. 

It’s not as if there’s much point to backtracking anyway.  All these tunnels look near identical, and there’s no way but forward. 

I keep trotting for a while, turning aimlessly down corridors and choosing paths at random.  Eventually I decide that I should probably try opening some doors to investigate the rooms.  I usually roll pretty shitty investigation checks, but what can you do? 

I walk until a door catches my eye.  I can’t say why, but something about it, or maybe the room behind it, grabs my attention.  I’m getting some sort of feeling from it.  Like, oh yeah, that’s a plot relevant door right there.  Or, more specifically, some sort of pull that makes my body drift towards it unconsciously.  Like gravity inevitably drawing me in.  That’s probably suspicious, but I don’t really give a shit at this point. I just need to find someone or something that will give me new information or a sense of direction.

Well, I’m sure I can’t regret this decision more than anything else that’s happened to me down here.  It’s hard to beat near-drowning and electrocution.

My hand covers the cool knob of the door and my heart has a moment of hesitation.  My wrist twists.

I pull open the door. 

And immediately regret. 

I don’t even know what exactly I’m looking at, but it resembles a black hole enough that I definitely regret.

The room is strongly similar to the others I’ve seen, with earthen walls and floors.  There doesn’t appear to be any items in the room, but I can’t say for certain as my attention is arrested by the gently pulsing dark circular disk torn into the air.  It is a sphere of absolute black, yet leaks (or absorbs??) a dark light that paints the room in eerie shadows and highlights.  Everything is black or white or ghostly violet-blues.

My exhale of surprise almost seems to be eaten by it; coming out muted then faintly distorting as it fades away.  But there is a constant sound heard deep in my chest – humming maybe?  No, even more than that.  Whispers.  I think.  I can hear them faintly, or maybe not hear.  They’re like a step to the side of where I am.  Are those screams?

“Oh?  And who are you?”  the voice is deep, staticky.

A pause

“Fuckin’ Caterpillar.”

My attention snaps into focus, my ears do something like pop, and the ambient…feelings die down.  In my horrified awe I seem to have missed the fully adult man standing in the room.  He’s tall, and seems to be wearing dark clothing, but the weird blacklight of the room makes it hard to discern details.  He’s definitely wearing a mask though.  Delightful.  I have a great track record with those.

“…Well, I suppose it’s not the weirdest name I’ve heard.  You don’t strike me as one of Danzo’s toy soldiers, and you’re certainly not ANBU.  What are you doing here, little caterpillar?” the man muses, seemingly unconcerned about the black hole to his back.

“No, you’re the Caterpillar.  You said the line and everything.”

“Did I now?”

“Yes.  And seeing how you’re the first important character I’ve seen in forever, I’d appreciate some information.  Like, how the hell to get outta here.  Or, because I cannot stress enough how the sight of it distresses me, what the hell is a black hole doing not in outer space?”

His head tips to the side in curiosity, his lack of facial expressions apparently being made up for in body language.  He hums and turns his masked face to glance behind him.  His hand comes up to cover where his mouth would theoretically be in surprise.

“Are you referring to this?  I suppose a black hole is a description of it!  Where did you think it was supposed to be; I’m not quite sure what you mean by outside of space!  Hmmm, more importantly, have you seen one before?”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I take an involuntary step back. 

Sometimes in open world games you stumble upon NPCs you are not yet levelled up enough to beat – plot points that should really be encountered further down the line.  Honestly, my whole life feels like that, but at this moment in particular I keenly feel how not-ready I am to deal with this situation.

“Uhhhh.  Hm.  So, Caterpillar, you’re kinda freaking me out here.  But, uh, no, I have never before seen a black hole in real life and kinda don’t want to again.  This experience has been 0/10.  You’re not even smoking a hookah.”

The sudden menace Caterpillar had exuded ebbs the longer I talk, seeming to twist back into himself.  He stares at me (presumably) as I ramble, before making a noise of amusement when my mouth finally decides to stop moving.

Smoke spontaneously fills the air around him, a glowing phantasm of fog in the not-light.  The artfully carved hose of a hookah perches genteelly between two fingers, the tip of it poised against the surface of his mask.  He mimes blowing, and despite having no visible mouth to generate any sort of air, the smoke spins towards me, clutching at me cloying and clingy.

I feel myself relax for the first time in what seems like forever; muscles relaxing, the pain beating through my body from stress and tiredness, and the burning where lightning had raced up the backs of my arms, neck, and face, numbing.  As my body relaxes so too did my hold on my chakra sense.

The hookah smoke almost seemed to intermingle with Caterpillar’s chakra.  It has an insubstantial quality – there yet not.  The smoke from a forest fire, and the burning of a distant star.  I reach out to try to grasp it and the smoke dances through my fingers.  I think I hear the voices from the black hole again, but I realize he’s talking.

“With the way you tuned in to this ‘black hole’ and something about your… yes, you’re definitely more than you seem.  But that’s not what I’m here for – and you shouldn’t be here at all.  You should probably hope we don’t meet again, little oddity.”

In the flash of light(?) the black hole emits as it collapses inward, I am able to see Caterpillar more clearly, his outline stark.  Most of the details are immaterial, but there is one thing.  I can see the curving lines carved into his mask, spiraling inwards to a singular dark hole.

Then it’s quiet and still.

Except for the smoke still coiling around me.  It floats out the door and I float with it.  The hall is dimly lit with torches and not the blacklight of a collapsed star. 

I blink rapidly, trying to sort out by thoughts.  There’s a butterfly in front of me, wispy like the smoke and Caterpillar.  It is golden and glowing and I should catch it.  It glides in front of me, flutters its wings, and turns back to fly away.

I follow the golden butterfly down the hall.  I stumble to a stop at one point, realizing I’m supposed to be following the White Rabbit, not a butterfly.  But then my memory helpfully points out that Mr. Twitchy Man is dead.  Following the metamorphosized form of Caterpillar is just as good as anything. 

Actually, it’s kind of nice to have a companion down here.  It’s not safe to go alone, take this! 

I snicker a bit.  Even if this is Caterpillar and not Navi.  But maybe it is?  Navi would probably help me figure out a way out of here.  But Navi is blue, not gold, so…

My eyes drift back to the butterfly and I see that, actually, it’s blue!  Its wings are even more fairy-ish now.  Cool!  Navi, can you help me navigate out of this dungeon?

She doesn’t say anything, but I feel like that’s what she’s doing.  So I keep following her through the underground corridors, vaguely hoping she’s taking me to an exit and not a boss fight.

I don’t know how long I’ve followed Navi, but suddenly a blip comes on my chakra sense.  It’s been pretty quiet out here.  There’s not even a lot of ambient chakra.  It lends to my belief that we’re leaving the base, which is a relief.  If I’m supposed to finish a mission down here, I’m deffos going to have to level up first and come back.  Or never come back ever and call it a day.

The chakra is small and trying to hide.  It could be small because it’s trying to hide, but I’d say it seems to be more hiding badly.  It’s probably a kid.  Hmmm, I should probably help them, right?  I can pick up an escort mission on the way out.

Navi begins fluttering in my face.  I didn’t notice I had stopped walking and she wants me to keep following her.  I try to tell her that I have to pick up the kid first, but she is quite insistent I keep going.  She’s clogging up the air and it’s hard to sense where the kid is at so I flare my chakra to try to find them again. 

Navi disappears and I’m not sure where she went.  This unnerves me a bit but hopefully she’ll catch up to me by the time I find the kid.  I skip down a few halls until I locate the door their chakra is behind.  It feels like a normal door and not an evil door, so I open it.

Inside is an earthen room filled with a jumble of boxes.  Probably a storage room. I don’t see a kid, but it’s pretty obvious they’re hiding in one of the boxes.  Their chakra is even more obvious this close, even if it’s a bit blank.  Children’s chakra doesn’t tend to have as many characteristics as adults, changing as they mature, but usually they’re not quite this much of a blank slate.  Maybe they’re a really little kid. I decide I should be playful to make sure they’re not scared.

I trill, “I know you’re in here little child~”

I make a show of looking around the boxes, twirling languidly as I go.  Eventually I decide this has been a good enough game of hide-and-go-seek.  My eyes slide to the box the kid is hiding in and I meet eyes peering back from a crack between the box and its slightly raised lid.

Upon meeting eyes, the kid sits up abruptly.  He’s a bit older than I expected based on his chakra.  Somewhere between 8-10 years old. 

The kid is matte black on white, like someone took a picture and completely desaturated it.  He hunkers in his box and has yet to fully get its lid off his head.  He peers at me alertly, yet is tired around the eyes.

I pause, “…Dormouse?”

“No, I am not a mouse,” his voice and face are both blank.

“It’s your name.”

“…is it?”

“I mean, yeah, I think.  It doesn’t fit perfectly, but I’m pretty sure that’s who you’re supposed to be.”

He pauses and thinks for a second.  He nods his head slowly, the top of the box tilting down his head and sliding to the floor.  I jump back a bit so it won’t hit my toes.  Dormouse seems to take this as a signal to get out of the box, but for some reason decides to crouch on the floor to its side.  I follow his lead and crouch on my haunches in front of him.

“What is your designation?”

“Oh, I’m Alice.”

“Ari- Alr- Arisu?”

“Yep.  That’s me.  Good ‘ol Alice in Murderland.”

“I am afraid I do not know this Murderland.”

“You’re in it, boyo.”

“No, I am in Danzo-sama’s base of operations.”

“Ah yes, the Queen of Hearts.  I know him and his bitch slap well.”

Dormouse’s eyes don’t squint at me – I don’t know if his face has the emotional range for that – but he somehow conveys that feeling nonetheless.  I decide to steamroll through his bout of quiet.

“So, do you have anything interesting to tell me?  I mean, Caterpillar showed me a whole-ass black hole, so it’ll be hard to top that.  Also, shouldn’t you be with the Mad Hatter?  On second thought, don’t.  He sucks.”

He doesn’t respond again, but I don’t mind much.  I take a moment to let the quiet sit in my bones and have a half-hearted staring contest with the kid crouched across from me.

Being away from Navi has made me more aware of how much I ache, and anxiety has started creeping at the edges of my thoughts, but I still feel relatively relaxed.  Seeing the first non-masked face besides Danzo down here may have helped.

This state of calm is probably why I don’t react fast enough when Dormouse says, “You do not seem like a threat, but it seems like you may have suffered an injury that compromised you mentally at some point.  He told me to neutralize all threats if someone finds me.  Do not worry, operative Arisu, agent Dormouse is only acting nonlethally.” 

And then he chops me across the back of the neck and I have moment of dual betrayed-surprise and absolute non-surprise before I sink into blissful darkness.

A small omake:

“My name is Dormouse.”

“It’s really not.”

“She seemed very certain.  I think my official name is agent Dormouse.”

“___, please.”

Chapter Text

It’s good to be Yamanaka Ino.

It’s a fact that she doesn’t shy away from.  Generally, people from Clans have an advantage in life.  The Yamanaka have an alliance with the Akimichi and Nara Clans, making them combined the strongest political force in Konoha.  Even if people like to point to the Hyuuga or the Uchiha as the strongest, the two Clans spend all their time bickering and blocking each other.  They don’t know the true meaning of teamwork and what it can accomplish.

On top of being born into one of the best Clans, Ino is a Clan Heir.  She has super great parents who fully support her.  Ino is pretty and confident, and she knows how to wield both to ensure her popularity.  Ino is smart, if not Nara smart, and is going to be an expert at reading people like her papa.  Ino is strong for her age, and is going to make sure she is always strong for her age.  She can train till she’s soaked in sweat and wear dresses and plant flowers and make poisons and she doesn’t feel shame for any of them.

Ino is powerful because she knows it is good to be Yamanaka Ino and she’s not ashamed of it.  Ino is going to be powerful because she knows it is good to be Yamanaka Ino, and she’s not going to waste it. 

Sasuke is a good point to rally the girls in her class around.  The Sasuke-kun Fan Club has evolved into something even better than expected with Miki’s intervention.  Miki is still weird, but Ino really does owe her.  She and her mom have been brainstorming how Ino can use the additional cohesiveness and usefulness of the girls even past when she graduates from the academy.  Honestly, they’re all even more fun to hang out with too, now that they’re focusing on getting stronger in their own way in addition to being pretty.

It's hardly a pain to spend so much effort centered around Sasuke, anyway.  Sasuke-kun’s super cute!  And if Ino really does end up dating him in the future, he’s exactly what her mom would call a trophy-husband!  Pretty, skilled, and the second child of the Uchiha Clan head!  Snagging Sasuke would also increase her reputation (as if she needs it).  Papa is sure to be happy at the boost it would give Ino in political power when she takes over as Clan Head.

He married her mom for love and the fact that she caught him in a trap he couldn’t get out of for over a day and he was super impressed.  They’re so romantic!  Other girls complain if their parents are too lovey-dovey, but Ino just finds that it makes her happy.

She doesn’t know if she’ll marry for love; she is a woman of ambition.  Or, a girl of ambition right now, she guesses.  But her mom has talked to her about how she was pushed out of the active forces after being married despite being one of the top sabotage and poison specialists.  How while her papa and their friends still view her as a formidable kunoichi, she has been relegated to the position of “Clan Head’s Wife” to most.  How while people often talk about how formidable kunoichi are, in truth they are often looked down on as being unable to reach the heights that those special few male ninjas can attain.  Senju Tsunade is seen as an exception to the rule, not a trend.

Ino doesn’t want to be a powerhouse like the Sanin or Hokage.  That’s not her style, or her Clan’s style.  And there’s only so much power to be had as a frontline fighter.  Her papa is the head of T&I, Uncle Shikaku is the premier strategist of Konoha and jounin commander, and Uncle Chouza has a stranglehold on Konoha’s food industries and imports.  Ino knows the value of different kinds of power.  The subtle, not flashy power is the kind that can really get you places.  And mom says that she has the beginnings of a political acumen and the right type of personality to make big changes as Clan Head.

Ino’s still trying to decide what those changes will be, exactly, but she’s making sure she’ll have a good power base for when she knows exactly what she wants to do.  Chouji and Shikamaru will support her.  Chouji because he’s the best and she and Shikamaru are his best friends.  Shikamaru because there’s not enough motivation in the world to make the pain of going against her worth it, and they’re friends too even if they both downplay it.  Also, he thinks Miki’s interactions with Ino are funny.  Ino does have to admit that he was right about the girl’s usefulness and intelligence, even if she had plenty of reasons to doubt him.  So Miki will be her ally too, whether she wants to or not.

The girls at the academy are obviously on her side, and she thinks they’ll be excellent in her quest to elevate kunoichi in the future.  There’s plenty of other people in her class to start forging ties with too, with so many Clan kids.  Shino’s kinda creepy, and Kiba is such a pain, but Hinata is super cool and strong, if a bit quiet.  From what Ino has noticed lately, if she gets Hinata or Miki, she’ll probably be able to get the other one, too.  Papa has been training her to read people and their interpersonal connections, and she’s really good!  Even if she sometimes gets ahead of herself, or makes judgements too quick, or is bad at predicting how people will change.  But she can only get better at it!

Ino already has it pretty good with family and friends.  But she still needs to think of who she’ll marry.  Boys never think about it, so they always end up getting shunted off to whoever the elders decide is best, or whoever decides they’re the one for them and catches them the best.  Ino is going to be the one to pick who she’s going to marry, and it’s going to be someone who will be able to support her and her power grab!  Probably a boy, considering Clan traditions and babies and stuff.  Which is kinda a bummer because Ino thinks girls are really pretty, but then again boys like Sasuke-kun are pretty too. 

Ino can’t even get married until 16 at the very youngest – and her parents and her grandparents hadn’t even gotten married till around 20, so that’s pretty unlikely.  But once Ino chooses, she is going to make the very best trap for them, and they’ll think she’s amazing like her papa thinks her mom is amazing and they’ll never want to leave her. 

Ino asks her mom about the types of traps she used on her papa as her mom brushes her hair one night after school.

Her mom cracks a sly smile, “I don’t think you’re quite ready for those yet.  I also want to see what you come up with on your own, without my influence.  Although, I will give you a hint about one: learning to be skilled with ninja wire can have a multitude of benefits if you’re creative enough.”

Ino goes to ask more, but her papa pops into the living room, “Maa, Yua, what exactly are you talking to our little girl about?”

Lately her papa has been wanting to stay close to them, Ino has noticed.  Specifically, close to her.  Usually papa will spend a good amount of time in his office to look over non-classified paperwork.  He likes routine and would always be in his office from 18:00-19:30. Now, though, he’s been spending that time with her instead.  Ino loves spending more time with her papa, but it's still weird!

Something big must have happened to have changed his routine.  He’s also been leaving some nights to go back to work, which is also weird.  A healthy work-life balance makes for a healthy mind!

 Ino notices papa has some stress lines at the corner of his eyes and even some dark circles forming.  Extra weird!  Papa knows how important presentation is!  It’s why he always gets her the most durable yet prettiest clothes and weapons.  And also because he loves her most. 

So, something is probably wrong with his job, and considering how important he is, something big is going on with the Village.  And that something big is making him hover around Ino.  It reminds her vaguely of when the Hyuuga Heir was almost kidnapped, although that was years ago and she only learned about that later.  But village security tightened after that, and there’s been no alarm raised.

Ino narrows her eyes a bit, but lets her parents’ banter wash over her.  She decides to talk about her day before figuring out what’s wrong in her Papa’s life and maybe finding someone’s butt to kick so that he doesn’t look so tired.  At the very least, she and mom can do a spa day with him this weekend.  Ino had just picked out a non-scented lotion that has something in it to guarantee it’ll help relax your muscles!  And mom let her buy it, so that means it really works!

Ino tells her parents about the work she’s done with the Sasuke-kun Fan Club in the last couple days, setting up rotations and helping proctor tournaments to decide who’ll get the extra-long shift.  Ino’s too strong for any of them to beat, so she doesn’t participate in order to increase morale and help maintain her position of authority through neutrality.  Her parents are very proud that she has been applying what they’ve taught her. 

She continues, musing, “…oh, and Miki’s been gone for a few days now!  Which happens sometimes because she does what she wants a lot of the time and once she made Hino-kun and Nanao-chan cry by staring at them and mouthing things they couldn’t understand for an entire class (I think it was only for Hino-kun because he had pulled her hair the day before but Nanao-chan was sitting next to him and couldn’t tell) when Iruka-sensei made her come for two weeks in a row.  So he usually lets her skip some days.  But by now he usually gets her to come back to class by telling one of the older people at her orphanage or tracking her down himself.  So it’s kind of weird she’s not back yet.”

Her mom makes a sound of acknowledgement but her papa doesn’t say anything which is also weird.  Papa always makes a comment or at least an “is that so” to encourage her to keep talking.  But he’s not looking at her even though he’s definitely listening to her.  But he’s not even looking at something else, he’s just specifically not looking at her.  And her papa is a really good liar because he is a good shinobi and a Yamanaka, but her papa is really bad at lying to her or her mom.

Then Ino’s brain connects this odd behavior to Shikamaru sulking more than usual when Miki is gone and Hinata looking worried even if it’s hard to tell if Ino is reading her right because the other girl is really good at controlling her expressions.  Something’s wrong with Miki, and even though she’s peeved Shikamaru hasn’t said anything to her, more importantly, her papa knows something about it.  And probably, probably her papa being stressed is connected to it.  She might be getting ahead of herself, but she’s sure she’s right.  She feels it in her gut, in her intuition.

Her papa knows something.  He knows something important and it relates to one of Ino’s classmates.  Knows something about one of her classmates that is going to support her on her quest for power.  Knows something important enough that it’s making him stressed and clingy and could maybe even have a big effect on the village.

Ino’s papa knows something, and Ino’s going to find out.  She’ll find out and fix it so that everything’s better.

Then she’s gonna use it.

There is probably a way to get out of this situation with her and her sister intact, Hyuuga Hinata thinks, but she’s not sure how to achieve it.  Particularly because “this situation” is her Clan. 

Not her family.  Hanabi is the last of that, after her mother died when she was young, and her father died in place of his brother.  It’s not that Hinata doesn’t understand her father’s actions.  She would die for her sister, and if Uncle Hisashi had died the Clan would have been thrown into turmoil.  And that turmoil would likely have fallen heaviest on the Branch members.

But even with her father’s sacrifice, the other branch members avoid Hinata and Hanabi.  Neji is too focused on them, too vitriolic.  Hinata cannot understand where his animosity stems from, but it doesn’t really matter.  All that matters is that it makes Hinata and her sister persona non grata amongst the clan.  Hinata is left to take care of her sister by herself, with only a stipend given to ensure they properly represent the Clan.  Her younger sister may have actually been able to still be accepted amongst the other branch members, as Neji’s ire is focused largely upon Hinata, but Hanabi refuses to let insults to her sister be taken lightly.

Hinata despairs of this just as much as she is selfishly pleased.  She doesn’t think she could make it if Hanabi hated or ignored her too.  Apathy stings just as keenly as antipathy.  She’s sure the branch members think their ostracization is comparatively benign compared to Main House abuses, but it’s not.  It hurts, and Hinata cannot show it.

She must be strong for her sister.  She must be strong for herself.  If she is weak, Neji and other main house Clansmen will take this as proof that his disdain is earned.  If she is weak, they may decide that Hanabi should be Neji’s chosen guard.  She will not let her sister be put in that position, and she will not prove them right.

But Hinata cannot protect her sister forever.  Once she graduates, she won’t be around as often to check on her.  Worse, when Hanabi eventually graduates from the academy she’ll begin going on missions and a Main House can choose to activate her brand at any time.  They don’t typically do it arbitrarily, as the gene pool to keep the Clan large and “pure” is only so big, but it’s not unheard of that a particularly bothersome branch member won’t come back from a mission.  If their teammates are good, they will march to the clan gates snarling and demanding retribution for their fallen comrade – death by the activation of the seal can’t be mistaken for much else.  The teammates will be taken away by ANBU if they’re particularly dangerous (Uchiha police won’t interfere with anything that inconveniences the Hyuuga) and that will be the end of it.  Because the Village will do nothing.

Hanabi is a troublesome branch member.  She is bright and strong and outspoken and likely to get herself killed.  This is partially Hinata’s fault, as she couldn’t bear killing her sister’s spirit when the Clan already tries so hard to do so.  Instead, she has encouraged her sister to grow as best she can in their lonely house, gives her a safe space and warm words.  In response, her sister has grown into something more beautiful and vivacious than Hinata could ever manage. 

But there are always consequences for those without power.  Maybe Hinata has reconciled that fact in her life, but she can’t, refuses to accept that for her sister.

So, there must be a way out of this life they have been born into, if only she could find it.

It’s a problem with no obvious solution that weighs on Hinata constantly.  She doesn’t need more things to worry about.  Unfortunately, that’s what she got when she began talking to Miki.

The bright blue haired girl is a bit of an enigma, but it’s not as if Hinata cannot spot loneliness and frustration with the world when she sees it.  They express it in different ways, and Hinata won’t claim to completely understand Miki, but she can’t help but feel a connection.  Most of the other people in the class have a family, or a Clan that doesn’t enslave them.  They can’t understand how cruel the world can be.

Naruto, though.  Naruto can.  But Naruto is sharp and angry in a way she can’t afford to be.  She can’t be angry like him, fiery and burning burning burning.  Hanabi would like him.  Hinata likes him too, really, but the one time a Main House had seen her looking at him for a moment too long she was taken aside and reprimanded.  Told not to interact with something (something?) like him.  Told she would have her sister taken away if deemed to be consorting with dangerous individuals.  And nothing is worth that.

Miki is beneath their notice.  Which feels awful to say, but is the truth.  She may be sneered at by her cousin for a poor orphan sticking up for her, but it is the sort of pathetic that isn’t dangerous.  They could even spin it as the Hyuuga reaching out and being magnanimous to their lessers.  It isn’t true.  Most of what the Hyuuga, Main and Branch, say or think isn’t true.  Miki is her first friend (she thinks, she hopes) and is worth more than all of them combined.

But Miki isn’t at school, and hasn’t been at school for a couple days.  This isn’t unusual.  Miki is more than willing to skip for days in a row until Iruka-sensei tracks her down.  But when he takes roll, Iruka-sensei is always exasperated or frustrated if Miki isn’t in class. 

He isn’t now.

The first day he tried to mimic his usual emotions, but it was a porcelain mask marred with cracks.  The subsequent days he hadn’t even tried.  He didn’t show any emotion in particular, utterly neutral, but the noticeable absence of his usual frustration is telling.

Telling of what?  She doesn’t know.  She never knows. 

Hinata has never been good at collecting information.  She’s observant, but not skilled at reading people beyond compatible damage or the presence or absence of negative emotions.  She knows the absence of the girl she had gifted a ribbon to makes the chill of loneliness freeze her from the inside out.  She knows Miki isn’t just skipping because Iruka-sensei isn’t mad.  She knows Shikamaru has noticed too because she keeps an eye on him because she doesn’t like how he teases Miki, and he is restless in a way she can’t quite pin down.

Hinata knows that despite the fact the Byakugan can see anything, it doesn’t stop her Clansmen from being blind.  She’s sure that even if she went searching the village, Byakugan activated, for Miki and managed to dodge any Hyuuga along the way, she likely still wouldn’t find her.  Because she doesn’t know where to look and doesn’t know much of the world beyond her Clan compound and the academy.  That isn’t her fault because she’s not allowed anywhere else, but it doesn’t sting any less. 

She wants to find the girl that smiles a little more genuinely around her, who thinks Hinata is worth spending time with above any of the other bright and colorful people in their class.  Hinata is so, so lonely despite loving her sister with her whole heart.  To have someone beyond the compound filled with cold eyes and hearts is something Hinata never knew she needed.  But she does, and she has no clue how to get her back.

Why is it that she always knows what needs to be done, but never how to do it?

She approaches Shikamaru and Chouji at recess.  She would prefer to talk to Shikamaru alone, but she doesn’t mind Chouji.  He is warm in a way that reminds her of the soup her father used to make when Konoha’s weather actually dipped enough to frost over the grass.  She wonders if that’s stereotyping, considering his Clan, but she doesn’t think he’d take it as an insult.  He is passive to the point of being unassuming, and it makes it easier for her to relax around him.

“Nara-san, Akimichi-san,” she acknowledges as she stands in the shade of the tree they sit under.

“There’s no need to call us by our last names, Hinata-san.  We’re in the same class and have known each other for years,” Chouji says, snacking contentedly on his bento with a bag of chips open next to him.

Hinata makes a noise of understanding, even if she couldn’t comply even if she wanted to.  She doesn’t need to be caught being so familiar with Clan Heirs.  She finds that the distance of politeness also makes it easier to interact with others.  She yearns for the closeness of other people, but is also a bit wary of it.  Referring to others by their last names keeps people at an appropriate distance.  Maybe the lack of Miki’s last name also has something to do with Hinata connecting to her.

She continues, ignoring the fact that Shikamaru has yet to indicate that he’s awake despite her knowing that he is, “I’m here to ask if you know where Miki-san is.  I know that she is not simply skipping class, and I know that you know that too, Nara-san.”

Chouji makes some commiserating noises and says “she has been gone a while, hasn’t she?”  Hinata can’t tell whether he had known that her current absence is unusual or not.  His expression is sympathetic, but his near-closed eyes and cheerfully full face give no indication of his thoughts.

“Ino’s trying to get something out of her dad.  She’ll have better luck than me, since he usually can’t resist her for long,” Shikamaru unexpectedly offers, voice a sleepy drawl. 

However, one dark eye opens to look at her, and while it’s as lackadaisical as the rest of him, she catches its hidden sharpness.  It’s similar to how adults in the compound will look at her when she trains or is answering their questions.  They are always waiting for her to make a mistake.  Is Shikamaru looking for that too?  But that doesn’t make sense; a mistake in what?  She certainly wouldn’t have more information than the son or daughter of Clan Heads working in Intelligence.  She wouldn’t be able to offer to look for information from her Clan either, being a branch member.

Shikamaru always looks at Miki for a reaction.  Perhaps that’s what he’s doing now?

He will be disappointed.  Hinata always does her best to be polite and cordial to others, is even kind if she thinks she can afford it, but she is perfectly able to control her face and body language if the situation calls for it.  She has to be.

“That’s good.  Yamanaka-san is already exceptional at information gathering for our age,” Hinata eventually says.

Shikamaru looks at her for a moment longer before his eyelid once again slips closed and his mouth ticks up in the corner.  What does he find funny?  Perhaps he is remembering Ino’s actions at the Survival Camp?  Hinata isn’t sure.  For some reason she finds his expression a bit annoying.

“If you both find anything out, please let me know.  I would be happy to offer my assistance if it is needed,” she continues, ignoring the emotion.

Shikamaru doesn’t acknowledge her, but Chouji does, “We will!  And Ino will be happy to hear that, Hinata-san.  She always says she’s happy to work with you, or something like that.  Want a chip before you go?”

Hinata gingerly accepts the offered chip, figuring it’s rude to deny an Akimichi when they offer you food.  She thinks Chouji will pass her message on to Ino even if Shikamaru doesn’t.  Hinata begins to walk away.

“We should play shogi again, Hinata-san.”

Shikamaru’s voice stops her in her tracks.  The annoyance in her stomach grows at the thought of him waiting for her to walk away before speaking.

“I’m afraid I wasn’t much of a challenge last time, Nara-san.”

“You weren’t uninteresting, though.  I think you’re the type of person who improves as time goes on, even if you don’t practice.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.  I don’t have times to play games with you.”

She’s sure, even as she walks away, that Shikamaru thought something about that exchange was funny.  She doesn’t need her Byakugan for that.  His amusement is almost tangible in the air.

Hinata decides that, actually, she’s fairly good at reading Nara Shikamaru.  He’s trouble.  But he’s trouble that may be able to help her find her friend.

She’ll keep an eye out for him in the future.  Hinata already has more trouble than she can handle.

There are thousands upon thousands of probable outcomes for any given situation, and Nara Shikamaru can know each one. 

Some of this is simply being a Nara.  Some of it is being his father’s son and being raised by his mother.  Some of it is just Shikamaru.

His father is a genius.  Most Nara are incredibly intelligent, and Nara Clan Heads generally have to be geniuses.  His dad says it is partially “genetics”, something he has talked with the Sanin Orochimaru about. 

His mom isn’t a Nara, but that doesn’t mean much.  She’s as smart as most people in the Clan.  More importantly, she has lectured to him, she had to work for it.  She’s never relied on natural intelligence, and instead has questioned and researched her whole life.  Yoshino is naturally meticulous and exacting, able to spot a discrepancy in even the most convincing of text.  She can out-argue his father for more reasons than just his relatively laconic versus her energized personality.

As much as it’s a pain, she doesn’t let Shikamaru slack.  Most Nara have a fairly hands-off way of raising their kids, not feeling the need to cultivate intelligence where they know it’s already planted.  Yoshino scoffed in the face of her in-laws and her husband has negative interest in telling her how to raise their child.

His mom reads to him since he is in her womb.  She invents games to play with him to practice numbers and kanji and comprehension since he’s a toddler.  His father enjoys playing shogi with him and asking open-ended questions for Shikamaru to muddle through.  Shikamaru loves these activities with his dad, but his mother says they’re not enough.

These typical Nara activities are useful definitely, she says, but they’re not all there is.  Nara depend on an extraordinary capacity for logical thinking and analysis.  An ability to synthesize facts and knowledge to draw conclusions.  They’re very linear.  Everyone is a game piece, and their actions tied to movement on a board.

That’s not how the world works, however, and it can inhibit them.  Strategy in this way can get them through on the battlefield more often than not, but life isn’t only a battlefield.  At least, not only the literal kind.

His mom says that many Nara know, but few understand.  They don’t bother gaining a deeper understanding of why something will happen, but are entirely satisfied with “if x then y”.  It makes them excellent at re-creation, or even improving something already existing, but poor inventors.

(“You can’t account for chaos,” mom once tells him, “and sometimes you actually need it.  Searching for the unexpected, what breaks previously established rules, is what breeds invention.  You’re a bit too young now, but you’ll understand later.” 

He thought he had understood what she was saying, even if he thought there was nothing that couldn’t be expected.  But perhaps he hadn’t.  Shikamaru has experienced a chaotic element now, and he could have never imagined it then.  Searching for the unexpected—)

Additionally, many Nara have poor understandings of people and often rely on stereotypes in their interaction before they have a grasp on an individual.  It makes her first meetings with Shikaku particularly contentious, with her being civilian born.  Which is foolish, Yoshino gripes, since there are specific factors that effect a person’s personality and decisions.  If you know where to look, you can even spot many of them on someone without ever speaking to them.

When he is little enough to fit on her lap, his mother would sit them on a bench in a park and murmur observations to him about passersby.  Their backgrounds and how they affect their actions.  What sorts of opinions they are likely to have.  (Shinobi she once whispers to him are just as predictable as civilians, though they’ll never admit it).  When he grows old enough to sit next to her, she decides it’s time to switch rolls. 

There are so many possibilities for the actions and reactions people can have.  Convention, socioeconomic background, Clan status, training, cultural heritage, social norms – all of these go into how a person makes their decisions.  Should you have a basic understanding of them, and a sound grounding in strategic thinking and analysis, you can predict the probable paths of anyone’s actions.  The way Shikamaru’s brain worked just means that there is an almost automatic process between observation, analysis, and prediction. 

His mother is delighted to find that her son absorbs her teachings like a sponge, and is able to create more thorough and branching analyses than almost any of his Clansmen.  He still can’t beat his father at shogi, and likely won’t for quite a while, but in other areas he is already overtaking him with his mother’s influence. 

He can tell it makes his father proud, but also worried.  Because he has thoroughly learned his son, and he is nothing but a Nara in many things.  Naras are not passionate, not like his mother, and already knowing so much doesn’t make him ambitious.  It just makes him tired.  And bored.  He pulls the shadows over him, often enjoying the titanic ones cast by clouds when he can’t hide out in the dark Nara forest, and just wants to rest.

At all of nine years old, almost no one surprises him.  He doesn’t need that, for the people he already cares about.  He loves his parents, and Chouji and Ino.  Chouji is his best friend and no one will ever understand him more.  Ino, even if she is a pain, is probably the only person that can get him to do anything since he hit six.  (Because he’s not like his mom, not motivated, and he’s sure his laziness disappoints her, and that thought makes him freeze in strangling guilt).  The rest of the world is grey, a book that has already been read with nothing new to offer.

He thought it would be that way for the rest of his life.  He plays shogi with everyone he meets, particularly his classmates, to see what they’re like.  It’s not only their playing style he analyzes – he uses shogi because that’s what he plays with dad and it’s comfortable.  Shikamaru takes in all the little factors that make his opponents and tries to use them to predict how they’ll play.  It’s not a precise science, like how mom would want him to formulate a metric to help focus his analysis, but he tends to make fairly accurate predictions.  Everyone’s young so they don’t tend to be very good or have particularly distinct playing styles, but playing a two-layered game is entertaining enough for Shikamaru.  Some of them have even made him have to second-guess his assumptions at times.  Still, he doesn’t expect to ever meet someone that will be able to overcome the machine someone seems to have replaced his mind for.

This all being said—

Shikamaru can never predict Miki. 

Or, he has a 23% success rate now.  And that’s so low that he largely chalks it up to chance.  Even a broken clock will be right twice in a day.

Which is frustrating, but also undeniably, incredibly exciting. 

And enjoyable.  Usually hilarious.  Shikamaru had never understood the true value of humor until Miki had gotten out of a conversation with him by bending over backwards and walking on all fours (alarmingly quickly) towards a group of students who had not been paying attention.  Their screams had been so loud that three different teachers had suddenly appeared on the playground.  Sasuke has never quite forgiven her for it, although that’s the least of her sins against the Uchiha at this point.

Her actions are, frankly, bizarre.  There’s no basis for the way she seems to think or make decisions.  Shikamaru’s gone out of his way to meet other orphans from around her district, and absolutely none are like her.  She’s simply an element of unexplained chaos.  Most people chalk it up to Miki being stupid or crazy.

She’s not dumb.  That much is obvious to him.  If he could just get her to play a game of shogi, see her twisted strategies that are almost sure to be above the playing level of their classmates, he could prove it for sure.  So, Miki’s not stupid.  She might be crazy.  Shikamaru hasn’t met anyone certifiably crazy, so it’s hard to tell.  He doesn’t think so, though.  Her actions often seem too calculated, even if the actions themselves often border on incoherency. 

She is some kind of oblivious though.  She often seems to have no clue how people really feel about her or has some sort of false construction of them.  At times she completely ignores reality.  His mom would call this a sloppy way to live, but even she, when he haltingly brings up little observations over dinner, seems baffled.

It warms him that she doesn’t doubt his thought process, even when they haven’t people watched or worked through an analysis for a while.  She even seems thrilled, in that weird half-repressed half-spilling-out way of hers, when he begins seeking her out more often.

Maybe she’s not as disappointed in him as he thought.

One day, as they sit on the back porch, looking out into the forest whose darkness swallows the light of the gently glowing fireflies, she says, “Sometimes you aren’t born with passion.  You have to find it.”

Shikamaru is cradling that thought in his heart when his father cracks an eye towards him as Shikamaru goes up to his room, “Don’t write people off too fast.  I did that with your mother, once, and I couldn’t have been more wrong.  Life won’t be so troublesome if you don’t assume everyone in it is.”

So Shikamaru begins interacting with his classmates more.  It’s mostly centered around prodding people towards Miki, admittedly, but he’s pretty much guaranteed to see something interesting if she’s involved.  It’s too tempting to ignore.  To be honest, he didn’t even have to do much to set Kiba after her – only a few observations on her appearance and the unknown identity of her parents.  Miki practically set Ino on herself with her – hysterical – little speech to Ino’s obnoxious lackeys.  That’s her own fault; Ino’s as likely to let go of someone she’s latched onto as a spider is to unwind its cocooned prey. 

He's been thinking about what he wants to see next, even though Chouji tells him to leave her alone after her scuffle with Hyuuga Neji.  It turns out to be a moot point.

Miki is gone and his father is stressed and the shadows are restless.

The shadows of the forest respond in part to his father’s state of mind.  It comes with the tie forged between the Clan Head and the Forest.  They are, of course, still independent.  His dad isn’t even the ultimate authority in the forest; that’s the Forest God.  A deer that most Nara will ever only see out of the corner of their eye as they collect herbs or commune with the dark.  It will be bigger than any deer you have seen before, with antlers whose shape bends in on itself in a way that doesn’t quite make sense, too many eyes, and a shadow that stretches and stretches. 

Shikamaru has only met it once, when he is formally introduced as the Clan Heir.  Despite being quite young then, Shikamaru would still remember it even if he didn’t have excellent memory.  It imprints itself in the dark of the back of your eyelids when you blink, never to be completely forgotten.  He is unlikely to see it again until he succeeds his dad, but that hasn’t stopped him from keeping an eye out when he takes strolls between the boughs of tall and looming trees.

(His dad tells him that Yoshino had encountered it once and stared it down.  Shikamaru can’t imagine doing that even as a blooded-Nara.)

His dad’s face is impassive as the shadows subtly writhe at the tree line.  His mother is more openly displeased, and he catches her whispering about unexpected additions to the compound and having to balance security and rehabilitation.  He’s ushered away, but has already noticed the increased security around the Clan.  Visiting Chouji and Ino confirms similar tensions in their compounds.  Chouji placidly states he’s expecting a new older cousin.

Kidnapping, probably.  But the sort that the village doesn’t want to advertise, and costly enough that it has affected members of Noble Clans.  Some of these individuals – including Naras – are being recovered.  But for some reason, they can’t be fully trusted as they reintegrate.  If they were taken by a foreign nation that would make sense, but mom always says that the Hokage and Council would take any opportunity to bolster their righteousness and cause against other Villages.  The potential to justify future war would trump the embarrassment of admitting mass kidnappings – especially if the individuals were largely recovered.

Then where were they and who took them?

Even just a day after her absence, the question: where’s Miki?

He doesn’t get answers out of either of his parents.  His father never liked simply giving him answers in the first place, and neither have any interest in involving him in something dangerous.  It’s not like it’s something he can probably do anything about anyway; it makes more sense to wait and see how it plays out.

For once, that doesn’t sit right with him.  He’s been involving himself in things more and more often lately, even if he’s usually only a spectator to its aftermath.  The idea of remaining passive makes something in him twitch.  Looking down, he sees it’s his shadow. 

It’s never moved on its own before.  He’ll probably start training on Clan techniques soon.  Only, your shadow is not supposed to be able to move until you begin training.  What does it mean?  There’re many possibilities.  He could probably sort through them and find the most likely, but other matters preoccupy him.

It strikes him, the thought of never finding Miki.  Of never having met her in the first place.  Even as his classmates begin to buzz around him in awareness, acting in ways that are more interesting than Shikamaru ever expected of them, before, he’s lost in thought.  Maybe an epiphany.

It would be fair to say that for most of his (admittedly short) life, Shikamaru had no motivation.  There is a truly laconic component to his personality, and when everything is predictable, everything is a drag.  Motivating himself to do anything is way too troublesome.  He isn’t even a ninja yet and there is nothing new left under the sun.

But now, now that he has had a taste of color, of unpredictability, of what it’s like to experience true surprise and delight, he has a motivation.  It courses through his veins and energizes him like he’s never felt before.  He doesn’t know if he’d have ever felt it if he never met Miki.

(Sometimes you aren’t born with passion.  You have to find it.)

 Now, and for the rest of his life, what Shikamaru really wants is to see something interesting.

Even if he has to instigate it himself.

“Yeah, so, I electrocuted myself after messin’ with a faulty socket because my orphanage is shit.  I had to go to the hospital for a while.  Make sure my body and brain weren’t totally fried.  But I’m back now.  Don’t call it a comeback; I’ve been here for years, etc., etc.  Ta-da.”  Cue jazz hands.

That’s a reasonable explanation, right?  Most of these little assholes think I’m dumb or crazy enough to do that.  I had been told in no uncertain terms that ROOT is classified information I under no circumstances could mention to anyone else.  Thusly, I had to come up with a story to explain the shiny new Lichtenburg scars racing over the tops of my arms and up the left side of my neck and face.  Apparently, I had my face turned slightly as I watched people fry in the electrified artificial river, so the lightening that arched up to me only scarred one side of my face.  My luck is truly prolific. 

My explanation of getting into a fight with an eldritch figure made of lightening was duly turned down.  And apparently the lack of lightning storms in the past couple weeks also made being struck by lightning an unacceptable story.  So, I am instead the moron who stuck her finger in a socket and got zapped.  I’m sure the kids won’t think too hard about it.

(Little did Miki know, walking casually into her classroom a week and a half since the last time she had seen them, that most of the class had been perfectly aware that her absence was unnatural.  And that there may or may not have been a small team of elite 8-9-year-olds planning a rescue mission.  The stressed parents of said children had particularly been pushing for Miki to be processed and pushed back into regular society before their kids could actually manage to find some real trouble.  Inoichi knows not to underestimate his daughter or his friends’ kids.  He thinks Ino may have even been beginning negotiations for Inuzuka Kiba to act as some sort of bloodhound.  Honestly, he just wants to have one conversation with his daughter without her attempting to subtly grill him for information (even if he’s simultaneously incredibly proud).)

I decide that I’ve said what the State has mandated I need to say, and make my way from the front of the classroom towards the stairs leading up the rows of desks.

Shikamaru’s head is in his hands in perfect synch with Iruka, though for different reasons.  I expertly ignore his shaking shoulders and my teacher’s quiet despair as I make a beeline for the seat open next to Hinata.  She gives me a small but genuine smile as I slide in next to her. 

I apologetically mumble, “Uh, the lightening also fried the ribbon you gave me.  Sorry.”

“It’s okay Miki-san, I will get you another.  Perhaps more durable this time.”

Iruka’s voice cuts our whispered conversation off, tired before he even asks, “Miki-kun, why.  Why are you wearing that.”

“Oh, well, I lost my sunglasses.  This was the only thing I could snag on the way here from the hospital.  It doesn’t actually do the function I need sunglasses for, but I feel like my swag is severely hampered now if I don’t have some kind of glasses accessory.”

Finding out that those glasses with fake noses and mustaches exist in this universe is a real treat.  I have not seen one person with a mustache like this, and very few people wear glasses, but who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?  Or a traveling merchant not paying careful attention to his wares.

“Did you even get discharged, Miki-kun?”

“Hmmmmyeeees.”

“Miki-kun, why would you come back to class early when you have a legitimate reason to be absent?”

“Now, where’s the thrill in that?  Live fast, die young, sensei.  Also, boy do I hate the hospital.  Pretty sure I saw some dude stab a nurse with an IV drip when she came to check up on him and thought he was still unconscious.  I do not need surprise needles jabbed into me.  I do not even want non-surprise needles jabbed into me.”

Ultimately, Iruka decides to give up on arguing with me, showing continued character growth.  I feel a bit bad because he seems genuinely worried for me.  He likely has at least some idea of where I’ve been.  Still, it should be easy enough to dodge his feelings and questions.  And no one else has any idea of where I’ve been, so I don’t have to think about what happened to me or acknowledge my feelings ever.

I absolutely have my shit together and there is nothing wrong.

That’s why when the first of the children masses approaches me during break, I very calmly say, “Birth is a curse.  Existence is a prison.”

Totally fine. 

Chapter Text

Did you know Sakura is missing?

I know this should have probably occurred to me earlier, but I’ve been busy, okay?

You know, what with being kidnapped, beat to shit, waking up in the hospital, and everything.

Somehow, I like to reminisce on my hospital visit even less than the events that led up to it.

I don’t have much experience with hospitals in either lives.  The sound of a steady beep droning faintly in my ears and the smell of sterile air stinging my nose do little but further confuse my muddled brain as it climbs from the depths of unconsciousness.

Everything hurts.  I twitch and my arms feel like they’d prefer to have fallen off of my body than be here with the rest of me.  Mood, but we are unfortunately in this together, arms.  Unionize later.

I groan and make an effort to open my eyes, despite the vaguely burning pain racing up one side of my face.  The sliver of light that leaks through my eyelids strikes directly at my brain and I hiss in pain.  My arms wriggle in sympathy, alighting my body in even more pain, and this time I realize they feel weighed down by something.

Actually, with some more tentative movement, it feels like something is perhaps directly inserted into my arm like under my skin and everything-!

“As amusing as it is to see you writhe in pain, try not to pull out your IV again.  You likely do not remember, but the first time you awoke you ripped it out and tried to stab the nurse.”

“Sounds fake,” my voice croaks reluctantly from my throat, “but if that did happen, I hope nurses that treat shinobi can deal with an academy student.”

Because it seems like I’m in the hospital, everything considered.  That’s probably not surprising, considering… considering I live in a ninja hell-village.  So, it’s not surprising that I’m injured.  Like, pretty beat to shit.

How this happened is definitely something I remember.  Just have to get my brain to feel like it’s not gummed up with molasses.

“So, like, did you put me here in a fit of righteous fury, or am I gonna have to guess again?”

“If I had decided to be finally rid of you, child, you would not have woken up.  Or if you had, certainly not in a hospital,” Orochimaru says, baldly alluding to the (illegal?) experimentation he probably does even in this universe.

This dude.  Always a treat to talk to.

My mouth curves into a reflexive smile, although even I can tell my voice is devoid of cheer as I say, “So, guess again then.  Can’t say I haven’t made a lot of people want to beat the shit outta me.  Although it’ll be super embarrassing if one of the toddlers in my class put me here.”

“Then you should be happy to know that one of the creatures that go to the academy only sent you to the nurse’s office.  It was Danzo the led you here.”

“Oh, wait, that does sound familiar.  The ugly motherfucker with the bandages that runs the underground ANBU.  What an asshole.  I think he slapped me.”

“I would imagine you likely deserved it.”

“That’s so rude.  No one deserves to have some self-righteous asshole villain-monologue at you about joining his cult.  Like, do I look like I’m going to be swayed by some crusty old man fake smiling paternalistically at me.”

I can hear the smirk in his voice, “You do have a point there.  Danzo has been a trial to deal with for years.  I am quite happy he is no longer here.”

“That is distinctly not the word ‘dead’ you’re using.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Ugh.  Well at least the Hokage actually decided to deal with him instead of letting his shadow org continue to grow…” I trail off, “Bro, I think this is the nicest you’ve ever been to me; snark simply being a lovable part of your personality.”

“That may be because you have forgotten to act like a fool.”

“Act nothing.  I am a jester, and this world is God’s court.  Put a jingling hat on me and watch me go.”

“I am certain the Daimyo would have you executed post-haste should you dare step one dirty foot in court.  It would be a shame; you have proven quite useful as bait to lure out rats.  You are right that Hiruzen-sensei likely would have continued to turn a blind eye to Danzo, had he not so readily fallen for my trap.”

“Hm… Hey, should you have told me anything of what you’ve said in this conversation, like, any of that?”

“I don’t know Orphan-chan, should you have already known any of that?”

“…”

“You performed rather better than I anticipated with this whole thing.  There was a significant chance they would have found your corpse down there.  And yet, here you are.  Anomalies are always so interesting to study.  I suppose there will be more chances in the future for you to pay me back for all of the irritation you have caused me over the years.  Look forward to it, won’t you?”

Orochimaru leaves shortly after that.  I get an official debriefing/interrogation when I wake up the next day.  Luckily, I am a bit more coherent at that point so it isn’t an unmitigated disaster like my last conversation.  In fact, I feel in such fine form that I leave the artificially kind looking woman not only questioning my sanity, but her own as well.

I bounce a few days after that, feeling uniquely eager to head back to school.  I stop by Sukoshi Hana first and everyone, besides our lovely caretaker Shizuka who had no clue I was missing in the first place, is incredibly surprised to see me.  Kids with potential from orphanages don’t come back when they disappear like that. 

It is an uncomfortably emotional reunion.  Emotional on their part.  I feel like a vaguely cornered feral cat.  Kyo probably permanently stained my shirt with snot from his crying and Sho had to pry him off.  Sho also informs me that Ran had rallied the shadier people she knew to try and figure out where I had run off to, despite knowing better than to hope.

I do not want to contemplate the fact that my fellow orphans may care for me beyond my use as a lockpicker to get food money.  Usagi-chan, at least, has no emotional outburst upon by return and simply is as soft and cuddly in my arms as always.

So, school!

I may be feeling somewhat better physically, lightning scarring and all, but I don’t want to poke emotions with a ten-foot pole.  Speaking of, along with my body, my mind has cleared up to the point that I possibly remember what happened in Danzo’s murder basement. 

I say ‘maybe’ because, boy, what the hell is any of that! 

As with feelings, best not to think about it; it’s over and done with and not something that’ll ever come back to haunt me. 

(And so, I had to find something satisfactorily distracting to think about)

Which leads me to my current conundrum:

How the hell had I not noticed Sakura isn’t in our class? 

She may have been done dirty characterization wise (what female character wasn’t), but she was still a main character!

I can’t remember her last name for the life of me – it might start with an H but all I can think of is “Hatake” and I know that’s wrong – but that’s just natural memory degradation, baby.  Remembering names has always been a shitshow for me.  I’ve got most first names on lock, but last names are sketchy after learning so many Japanese names first-hand instead of only stuff from anime (or some from history or politics or the few Japanese people I knew). 

Still, pink-haired H(?)-something Sakura who ends up as a top medic and, more importantly, could break a mountain with a pinky is someone you don’t forget.  She was also supposed to be good friends with Ino, wasn’t she?  From even before the academy, I think.  That means even if she’s in one of the other classes from our year that is comprised of less promising shinobi hopefuls, a lucky few of those being moved to the main class by the time things are slimmed down to one class for our year by the second to last school year, she should still hang around with Ino’s possie during lunch.

However, there is a distinct lack of pink on academy grounds.   And with it, a distinct lack of main female character.

Come to think of it, I’m probably Ino’s current “project” outside of the Sasuke Fan Club, and am often swept up in Naruto-Sasuke shenanigans. 

What if… what if….

I am become H-something Sakura

I shiver is horror.

But no!  I look absolutely nothing like her.  She’s got pink hair, greenish eyes, and fair skin.  I think we’ve also got fairly different builds, though it’s hard to know considering most female characters were drawn with less body diversity than males.  The anime doesn’t particularly reflect the true diversity of features here.

I have good chakra control, but not in the same way as her.  I also don’t have that secondary personality that I vaguely remember from the beginning of the series.

…Except I kinda do?  With the “me” of my past life.  Does that count?

Oh god does that count

“I’m gonna hurl,” I mutter, squeezing my face in dread as I huddle down on my haunches.

“Do not do so on me.  Why?  Because I will be extremely displeased,” Shino says unsympathetically as he continues the team exercise alone.

“Shino, Shino, do I look like a Sakura?  A pink-haired fangirl with unresolved anger issues?” I ask desperately, pointing to myself.

“No.  Why?  Because none of those traits describe you.  I would ask if putting your finger in an electrical socket interrupted your brain functions, however, that story is obviously untrue.  Additionally, illogical thought patterns are not divergent from your typical behavior.”

“Did you just roast me?  Also, that story is totally true due to legal reasons and all of you definitely believe it.  Also also, is it normal for a nine-year-old to talk like you?” I ask, not having learned the lesson to not ask questions you don’t actually want answered.

“You seem uncertain, despite the fact that you are also around nine years of age.”

“Depends on how you count.”

“Hm,” Shino considers, putting down the rope that we were maybe supposed to be making into a trap, “this is an interesting question.  Why?  Because it implies there are different methods to counting age.  Do you believe, Miki-san, that I could count the individual ages of my kikaichū in addition to mine, as we are linked?  In that case, I am a being much older than nine years.”

He calmly pulls up the sleeve of his jacket and lifts up an arm.  Small black beetles begin bubbling to the surface of his skin from no discernable source.  They spread in a squirming inky flood as Shino’s sunglasses stare intently at me.  I have absolutely no clue what expression he’s making, between his shades and high collar.

“Sensei,” I wheeze, “Shino is an eldritch being and has decided that I am too annoying to live.”

“I would not blame him, Miki-kun.”

(It only occurs to me quite a bit later that Shino may have been telling a joke and attempting to share his humor with me.  Boy, did it not land, but I still feel shitty for not encouraging positive social interactions.

Can you imagine him trying that shit with some of the other kids?  It would be hilarious)

(Also, disheartening socially awkward introvert kids is just sad, okay?)

That realization comes later, though. 

First, I scrub my skin raw in the academy bathroom and am extra meticulous in not squishing any bugs that cross my path.  Not that I go out of my way to do so anyway.  Bugs (that are not in concentrated amounts) don’t tend to bother me.  Spiders, on the other hand, are abominations upon this earth and are technically not insects so they should totally be free game.

Second, I step back from my momentary hysteria and agree with eldritch-bug-lord Shino’s assessment.  Sakura’s traits don’t describe me.  Which means we have a rogue pink-haired tritagonist on the loose.

And I know just the girl to find her.

“So, you’re telling me you’re looking for a pink-haired girl our age whose parents named her the most stereo- stereotypical name possible.  And you don’t know her last name.

“It might start with an H?  Or, or an F…?”

“This girl totally doesn’t exist,” Ino confidently declares.

“She totally does!  Unknown-last-name Sakura!  Pink haired, girly, and only maybe but definitely should be in the academy.”

Ino crosses her arms judgingly, “I would know if there was a pink-haired girl in the academy named Sakura, Miki-chan!”

“Well, maybe you just weren’t payin’ attention,” she gasps in outrage, “or maybe she’s somewhere that’s not obvious.  But if anyone can find her, it’s definitely you!”

“Hmmm,” Ino preens despite herself, still looking supremely skeptical, “I mean, you’re not wrong.  I still think you made her up or something, but I’ve been meaning for the Fan Club to practice covert information gathering.  I can have the girls keep an eye out for a pink haired girl our age.  Named “Sakura”.”

“I can hear those air quotes.”

“What do you expect!” Ino throws up her hands, “that’s totally something out of a story, or, or a manga.”

“Well…” she’s not wrong.

Footsteps approach us, causing Ino to look over my shoulder and demand, “Chouji!  Does a pink haired girl named Sakura sound real or like something that Miki made up?”

“It’s possible,” Chouji hedges kindly.

“Fake.” Shikamaru pronounces.

I shoot him an ugly look, “she didn’t ask you.”

What should I say?  “Yeah, it does sound like something an uncreative author would name a female character, because that’s what she is?  Oh yeah, reality is fake and I know you guys from a shounen manga from my last life.”  It would help if I could at least remember Sakura’s damned last name.  Or remember anything from her background besides probably being civilian born.  Or was that fanon?

So, I’m probably not going to be able to make Ino take this 100% seriously.  The price you pay for cultivating a persona that makes it so people generally don’t take you seriously.  Everything’s got its give and take.

That just means I’m going to have to do some of my own sleuthing.  Sakura is a super common name, so tracking down 8-9-year-old girls named Sakura won’t help much.  Not to mention Konoha is unlikely to have a public registry of citizens, all things considered.  Pink hair is a unique characteristic, though.  I can scope out the area around the academy and places where kids usually congregate in the Heart to see if any flashes of the color catch my attention.

It's maybe more effort than I should necessarily put into this, considering deviations from the Alpha universe are inevitable at this point, but, hey, I was looking for a distraction.  Also I don’t trust anything “main characters” get up to in this universe.

God, what if Sakura had been in ROOT?  That was a thing that happened in edgy fanfictions, wasn’t it?  Do I need to figure out where the hell they are keeping ROOT agents they didn’t have to kill?

(I distinctly do not think about the name Dormouse)

No, no.  No need to jump to conclusions.  I’m sure I’ll find what the female member of team 7 is getting up to in no time.

Now: onto the hunt!

Uchiha Sasuke is being hunted.  He’s been stalked since he joined the academy, but it’s only recently that his stalkers have evolved into something that is ruthlessly efficient.  And it’s all that idiot Miki’s fault.

He had meant to track her down as soon as it started, but she had skipped school for almost two weeks.  Coward!  She probably knew that he’d pay her back a hundred-fold for the indignities forced upon him, just like father always says!

He’s actually pretty surprised that she hadn’t stuck around to see what she started.

But it’s not like he understands her, like, at all.  But no one does, not even the Nara heir, so Sasuke doesn’t feel too bad about it.  Father always talks about the importance of understanding the people around you so that you can make the most advantageous decisions, but even he would probably have trouble understanding Miki! 

Itachi could probably do it, but that’s Itachi.  He can do anything.  It kind of makes Sasuke jealous, but mostly he’s just proud that he has such a cool big brother.

Anyway, father also says that Uchiha have no peer or superior, so that crazy girl is definitely beneath his notice!

If only it was possible to not notice her.

Her hair is an eye-catching eyesore even without considering her personality.

“You,” Sasuke hisses from where he’s hiding behind some boxes on one of the upper walkways in the Heart of the village. 

Miki glances dismissively at him as she scans the street below, “Hey, have you seen H-something Sakura?  Pink haired, our age, would probably have a tendency to be among your stalkers.”

After a week of being back in school, she’s got her (new?) sunglasses back instead of those weird glasses she wore that first day.  The new tree-like branching scars that trace the left side of her face and over her arms still fascinate him.  The red color of them stands out even against her darker skin and Sasuke’s never seen anything like them, despite having numerous shinobi relatives with their own scars. 

Sasuke doesn’t think that electrical sockets have enough electric power to do that.  But he doesn’t really know enough about electricity or that kind of stuff to be sure.  When he asked Itachi about it, his older brother just gave him an amused smile and ruffled his hair.  So that didn’t help at all.

Speaking of hair, Hinata-san must have gotten Miki another of those ribbons after she burned up (?) the last one.  It’s tied primly around her head, holding back bright blue bangs as one of the white tails sticking out from the knot on top of her head droops slightly to the side.  Sasuke has no clue why Hinata talks to Miki.  Sure, the Hyuga are the obviously inferior Clan between them, and the Hyuga are thorns in the Uchiha’s side after the Senju have largely dissolved, but… Hinata is just kind of cool?  She’s not even close to as strong as Itachi, but she kind of reminds Sasuke of him in how she seems super mature and confident in her strength.  Sasuke hates that he loses to her so often in sparring, but he can respect when someone is strong and she’s never arrogant about it.  She always takes him seriously when fighting him and Sasuke appreciates that.

So what did Miki do to make the other girl be friends with her despite being the total opposite of her, and Hinata has never tried to make friends besides her, and Miki is such a weirdo.

“I don’t know anyone with pink hair,” Sasuke says disgustedly, coming closer to where Miki is crouched to try and see where she’s looking.

He freezes when he sees that it’s one of his many stalkers.  He grabs Miki’s shoulder and flings them both back behind the boxes just as the girl’s head whips up as if sensing his presence.

“Oof,” Miki says, rubbing her head, “that seems a bit dramatic.”

“No, it’s not,” he hisses, “They are so much worse than they were before.  And I know it’s your fault!   You’re so- no, you know what?  Since this is your fault, you’re going to help me!”

“Oh am I?” Miki drawls, head lulled back from, what Sasuke just realizes, him fisting her shirt and shaking her back and forth.

Trying not to show that he hadn’t realized he’d been doing that in his blind anger, Sasuke simply declares, “Yes.  You’re going to help me avoid the, the Fangirls and get back to my compound.  I know you have some freaky chakra sense, so you can do it!”

“I love helping people that call me freaky.  You surely know how to be convincing, Sasu-chan.”

Sasuke huffs at her calling him such a cutesy – and way too familiar! – name, but it’s somehow still better than the cloying sweet Sasuke-kun most of the other girls in class call him.

Besides that, he has to acknowledge he doesn’t really have a way to make Miki do what he wants.  Threatening her won’t get him anywhere but her laughing hysterically.  He can definitely beat her in a fight, but she’s just as likely to start biting him or something if they’re not sparring and he’s kind of worried he might catch something from her. 

It would be easier to draw blood from stone than for him to make Miki feel guilty.  Ino and Hinata could probably make Miki do something, but Ino is literally the last person he wants to talk to (and is the main problem) and Hinata returns to her clan compound directly after school.  Shikamaru could probably do something, but Sasuke still hasn’t beat him at shogi, and even though he knows there is no shame in losing to a Nara in a strategy game, Sasuke is still a little mad about it.  Shikamaru doesn’t even consider him a real opponent, and Sasuke knows it.

Those beady dark eyes and bland expression are mocking him.  He can sense it.

So Sasuke has to figure out by himself how to get Miki to help him get home without getting caught.  He’ll be safe once he gets to the Uchiha district, even if things have been kind of tense lately.  The Hokage or Council of Clans probably insulted the Uchiha again with politics or something – Sasuke’s not old enough to hear (or care) about the details of those kinds of things.

After a moment of deliberation, where he did not let go of the front of her shirt lest she slither away, he tentatively tries out an angle.

“It could be funny to see how freaked out they are when they lose me.”

Miki makes a sound of acknowledgement and tilts her dangling head slightly.

Encouraged, he continues, “Ino might even make the girl who couldn’t find me do something in punishment.  It’d probably even be something weird but somehow really bad, because I think Ino is kind of crazy.”

“That.  Is true.  I’m also pretty sure that’s the one that almost took my eye out when she was applying some weird kind of eyeshadow made of paint.”

“And- and they’ve been bullying you into being more girly too,” he says, warming to the topic, “so this can be revenge!”

Miki squawks a laugh and Sasuke lets her go in surprise, “HA yeah.  You would go for the revenge angle… also, just to be clear, there is nothing wrong with femininity.  I just don’t like it being forced upon me.  This being said, you’ve made quite a tempting point.”

She sits up, adjusts her sunglasses, and gives him a toothy smile, incisors gleaming as her new scars distort with the movement of her face. 

On one hand, Sasuke has been trained to dread that type of smile on her face.  On another hand, Sasuke basically won and she’s going to help him.  On a third hand, something about her makes him feel like when Itachi lets him get away with something even though he didn’t actually trick him.

Whatever.  All that matters is that Sasuke doesn’t have to deal with one of the girls that now feel more like sharks scenting for blood than actual little girls.

(Which is probably good since good shinobi are more like predators than humans.  But Sasuke isn’t a Iwa-nin or something, and should not be subjected to this kind of behavior.)

“We should probably get going.  Looks like she already panicked and called for reinforcements… oh, we didn’t have sights on the second one, did we?  Foiled by my own genius,” Miki muses idly as she leans over to look at the street.

He clamps onto her arm and whatever look he has on his face makes her smile turn more into an awkward grimace – like whenever she says that fake word “yikes”.

“We’re moving.  Now.”

Miki is able to fairly easily move them out of the area, although things get a bit more complicated when she tells him some of the Fangirls have moved from the street onto the upper walkways.  Their pursuers can’t go onto the rooftops or the treetops, of course, since those are reserved for ninja, but neither can Sasuke or Miki.

Despite this, with the help of Miki’s admittedly strong sensing abilities along with Sasuke vetoing any stupid plans, they make steady progress towards his compound.  Sasuke feels hope in his heart.

Then: “Shit.  It’s Ino.”

They dive behind potted plants on one of the balconies on the second upper tier.  Luckily, the apartments in this area belongs to civilians, or they likely would have been booted out of this hiding spot pretty fast.

“How did she get here so fast?  Shouldn’t she be at her compound if she’s not—” stalking me.

“Hm, well, from what I’ve seen the Yamanaka Clan is better integrated into the village proper than ones like yours.  Maybe to make themselves more approachable since they can, you know, both read your mind and steal your body?  Also, Ino may not have been at home because she may have been looking for Sakura.”

“Who’s Sakura?”

“The girl with pink hair I was talking about, remember?”

“Does she go to the academy?”

“Yes!  Well, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I mean.  She technically should be if our universe wasn’t an off-brand copy of the original brand name flavor.”

Sasuke eyes her, “Were you already pranking Ino into finding a made-up person?”

“No!!”

Sasuke nearly smothers Miki when she shouts and they quickly have to relocate once again.  They’re flush against the colorful awning of a shop, too close to the street to be comfortable, as Ino orders the troops on the walkway above them.

“Midori-chan, report.”

“Sectors A and B show no sign of Sasuke-kun.  Although, this was found.”

“Only one person has this shade of hair… Miki,” Sasuke feels said girl tense up beside him, “Buuuuut she could also be around here looking for ‘Sakura’.  Oh, that reminds me.  Has anyone reported a girl with pink hair?”

Another voice speaks up, “Ai-chan said there’s a good amount of people with reddish hair around Little Uzu, but no one with sakura-pink hair.  Probably because they don’t exist.”

“Oh, what was that,” Ino says casually, “were you questioning me, Ami-chan?”

A moment of silence.  Miki and Sasuke look at each other with wide eyes.

“Oh, I’m just kidding, Ami-chan!  I know it’s a bit silly – and you’re right, totally seems fake – but just keep an eye out, okay?”

“Ha ha,” Ami laughs lamely, seeming still a bit shaky, “sure thing, Ino-chan!”

Miki is mouthing something at him.  Sasuke focuses until he makes out something like ‘go to your true love, the purple one’ and decides to ignore her.

(He would have pushed her off the awning onto the ground on a normal occasion, but these are dangerous times)

“I guess I’ll try out gathering intelligence from outside sources!”

Sasuke can’t help but jump slightly when the form of Ino falls past them onto the street.  He is horrified when she easily starts to chat up the baa-chan that runs the store below them and convinces her within five seconds flat to put out the word to her fellow baa-chans to keep an eye out for her friend Uchiha Sasuke.

They wait until Ino and the Fangirl soldiers above them all move on from the area to climb up and continue their flight.  The street is definitely no longer safe.

Unfortunately, everywhere they turn there seems to be a girl their age.  Miki isn’t familiar enough with all the girls in their class to be sure whether or not every one is a Fangirl – apparently kids’ chakra is less distinctive than adults – and Sasuke, frankly, looks at them the least amount possible, so he can’t say for sure either.

Miki does not help the situation by offhandedly mentioning as they run from the spray of an indignant man who had been watering his balcony garden, “We better hurry it up before she gets desperate enough to call in Kiba.  Neither of us knows how to hide our scent well enough to throw him or Akamaru off.”

While Sasuke, in his heart, knows that getting caught by his Fangirls won’t actually be the worst thing in the world, somehow this whole attempt to escape them has raised the stakes.  He feels like he’s being hunted by enemy nin, and to be caught means death.  Or worse.

He grabs at Miki, but she dodges, giving him a raised eyebrow.  He determinedly says, “I won’t be caught.  Not this time.”

The girl’s mouth wavers, but she simply gives him a thumbs up and says, “That’s the spirit, Sasu-chan.  Give me liberty, or give me death!”

Sasuke nods back.  He isn’t exactly sure what “li-be-ti” means, but he figures it means something like ‘freedom from Fangirls’, and agrees with her wholeheartedly.

The situation is still a bit dicey until they catch a lucky break.

A loud noise and an explosion of colorful smoke erupts from a few streets over, followed by mostly enraged screams.

“Naruto,” they both say, and quickly make their way in that direction to use the provided distraction as a cover to lose their pursuers.

Whatever you can say about Naruto – and he can say a lot about Naruto – no one can ignore him for long when he doesn’t want to be ignored.  The street they duck into is pure chaos.  Multi-colored smoke and dust fog up the air.  Civilians attempt to either fan it away as they yell or attempt to vacate the area – stymied by running into other people or objects.  Most ninja look down at the commotion from above.  A few, though, dart around in search of the perpetrator.

Naruto, when he does not want to be seen, often somehow disappears even when he should be too brightly colored to dos so.  That being said, Sasuke’s eyes naturally gravitate to the flash of red and a foxlike grin that darts through a miasma of orange smoke in the distance.  A bright blue eye somehow catches his own.  A tongue pops out between sharp teeth as a tan finger pulls down his eyelid. 

He’s gone in the blink of an eye, but Sasuke still seethes in his direction.

“None of that right now.  Although I rightfully respect the Naruto-Sasuke – rivalry?  frenemies? Too young for anything else in my opinion – thing, we are in the middle of a delicate operation.  And this is our best opportunity to escape.”

And she’s right, so they launch through a stretch of bright red colored air and follow the trail of chaos as long as possible until they break off at a run for the Uchiha compound.  They make it to the outskirts of the Heart and to the edge of his home district within the next twenty minutes.

It probably could have been even sooner, but running around and climbing for hours is tiring.

Not that he’s tired!  He is the second son of the main branch Uchiha and he is going to be a ninja and running from some monsters in the shape of girls for a few hours wouldn’t make him tired!  But Miki’s just a clanless orphan and electrocuted herself maybe with an electrical socket not too long ago, and she does get tired.  Sasuke was just keeping pace with her.

Yeah.

With Miki giving the signal that the Fangirls aren’t too close by, they unanimously drop to the ground from the single upper pathway there is this far out.  They head to the nearby corner store to get some drinks. 

At least, Sasuke buys them drinks so that Miki doesn’t steal her own.  When he glares out her, she just shrugs and says she has no money.

Which sounds kind of fake because doesn’t everyone have enough money at least for a cheap drink?  But he did just say she’s an orphan and he knows she’s from a bad district… but an adult is in charge of her orphanage so shouldn’t they give her money?

Whatever.  It’s not like he can’t afford to get them both drinks with his allowance.  And Miki lies or says weird things all the time, so it’s not like Sasuke has to believe her or think about it.

They exit the store sipping on their drinks – Sasuke’s green tea and Miki’s something sickeningly sweet and fruity – and lazily make their way towards the gate to his clan district.  It doesn’t occur to Sasuke until later that he didn’t need Miki anymore at that point, but it felt natural to keep going together until they reached their target destination.  The bight blue haired girl wasn’t even being obnoxious.  A combination of tiredness from the extended chase and contentedness with her drink lulling her into a lazy saunter, sunglasses pushed onto the top of her head and eyes half-lidded.

This unusual peace is interrupted by a figure dropping from nowhere onto the street before them.  Both he and Miki jump.  Which he’ll later clock as weird for her.  Though maybe it’s not considering who it is.  Miki’s chakra sensing in nothing in the face of—

“Fuuuu-”

“Nii-san!” Sasuke cheers, happily looking up at his brother.

Miki looks a little freaked out, but she’s probably in awe of being in the presence of such a great shinobi!  She doesn’t deserve it, honestly. 

Well, maybe meeting his nii-san again can be a reward for helping him to dodge the Fangirls.  Except his situation is still her fault in the first place! 

Itachi being home and coming to greet him can be Sasuke’s reward, then.

His brother chuckles and ruffles Sasuke’s hair, pale hand coming back stained red from the colorful dust that must have been clinging to Sasuke.  Taking a closer look at Miki (Itachi’s presence re-energizing Sasuke from his dead tired state) he sees that she also has colors splotched across her.  The look the man at the corner store had been giving them makes more sense now.

“It looks like you had fun today, Sasuke.”

“Not really,” he replies, “you know those crazy girls I told you about?  They’re getting worse!”  He goes on to describe his daring escape, doing his best to stop himself from gesticulating wildly because that’s not becoming of an Uchiha.

Before Itachi can reply, a new voice says, “Oh-ho, where are you going, bluebird?  It’d be an awful shame if you left without saying anything after saving Sasuke from the evil clutches of The Fangirls!”

Sasuke looks behind him to see Miki had fallen onto the ground and is now looking up at the older boy who loomed over her.  He grinned; curly black hair (though not as curly as Miki’s) held back by his hitai-ate as he leaned over with his hands on his knees.

“I’ll give you the blue, but nothing about me screams a bird motif.”

He clutches his heart, “Everybody’s a critic.”

“Stop being stupid, Shisui.” Sasuke calls, vaguely horrified at the thought of his goofy older cousin meeting the weirdest person he knows.  Neither of them needs the influence of the other.

“I guess there are different kinds of birds.  Maybe one of them fits you,” Shisui says, completely ignoring Sasuke as he thoughtfully taps his chin, “Bluebirds fit you color-wise, but you don’t seem very impressed by them.  Let’s see.  Hawks are fierce predators and reliable for getting messages to allies – maybe you’ll grow into that!  Ravens and crows are Uchiha exclusives, I’m afraid.  Can you sing well?  There’s this bird called a canary.  They’re very brightly colored – like your hair! – and can sing well, but also have quite a specific use, now that I think of it. 

Coalminers will take them with them down into the depths of the earth.  They use them as a warning system for hidden dangers that lurk down there.  These canaries are caged and monitored closely, for the invisible dangers in the mine creep upon them and kill them before the miners, allowing the humans to flee to safety before they die.  Poor little birdies; caged and brought so far from the sky and freedom all birds deserve.  Whose only purpose is to die so that others can live.  It would be pretty awful to be a canary in a coal mine, huh?”

Miki is looking as Shisui funny, not that Sasuke can blame her.  Or maybe he can, because Shisui’s rambling is really just a taste of her own medicine.

She clears her throat and finally says, “Uchiha don’t get to trademark entire species of birds.  Especially ones as iconic as ravens.”

Shisui laughs delightedly and launches into exactly why the Uchiha can do that.  His reasoning ranges from absurd to possibly-real obscure Clan laws.  Miki looks vaguely overwhelmed but gamely argues back, using equally absurd reasoning and definitely-fake village laws.

“Village law states that I have the right to kin whatever animal I want.”

“What is kinningu?”

“I… don’t actually want to answer that,” she says, a bead of sweat appearing as Shisui locks onto her reluctance.

“Leave her alone, Shisui,” Itachi says and breaks the back and forth he and Sasuke had been observing, “Miki-san may be a shinobi in training, but it is getting late and our village is unfortunately not as safe for children as some would like to believe.  Get home safely, hm?  And thank you again for aiding my little brother.”

Sasuke is insulted by the implicated that he needed Miki.  He would have been perfectly fine without her!  However, he’s distracted from his indigence by how Miki immediately dodges around Shisui – rudely not acknowledging Itachi! – and skuttles away as fast as possible.

Normally she would have said something to taunt Sasuke if someone implied she helped him.  Or at least say something annoying before she left, not even looking at him!  But it’s been a long day and maybe she’s intimidated by how great Itachi is?  And by Shisui being able to match her craziness if he feels like it.

Sasuke snickers a bit at that last thought and Itachi turns his dark eyes back to him, the corners of them gently crinkling with his smile.

“Would you like to get soba for dinner from that restaurant you like?”

While he’d been desperate to get back to the compound, it’s not like the Fangirls ever approach him with Itachi.  Not even Ino.  And while mother may not be mad at him for being dirty with whatever Naruto used for his prank, father will definitely not be happy.  Father has only been stricter recently; probably because Sasuke is getting older.  Sasuke wants to make his father proud, but that doesn’t mean he’s always eager to see him.

“Only if you’re not too busy!”

“You know I always try to spend as much time with you as I can, Sasuke.  I apologize that that won’t always be as much as we like.  Just know I’ll always come back to you, otouto.”

Sasuke tries not to look too pleased as he grabs his brother’s hand (you’re too old for that Sasuke) and is only actually pretending when he complains that Shisui comes along with them.  Shisui is his favorite cousin and Itachi’s best friend, but he’d be way too smug if Sasuke admitted that he doesn’t mind when he hangs out with them. 

Both of them have been away for missions or important ninja stuff a lot, so it’s nice to see them both.  Even if Sasuke does like having Itachi to himself sometimes.

Sasuke lets Shisui’s chatter wash over him.  The warmth of Itachi’s hand holding his own brings a deep-seated feeling of contentment to his heart.  The red dust staining Itachi’s hand mingles with the multiple colors on Sasuke’s and muddles into an ambiguous grey-brown as they walk into the coming night.

Okay, so.

Maybe ignoring the messed up shit that happened won’t work in this particular instance.

…

(Fucking Uchiha)