Chapter Text
Kurumi wishes her mother was a more serious person. As a jounin, she’d be an excellent resource if she was.
“Kurumi-chan, don’t you want to play?”
Baika tries to entice her by slowly waving a colored pencil in front of her eyes, as if to hypnotize her. She peers up at her mother over her book, blinking once.
“That’s okay. I would prefer to read. Thank you, though.”
Baika sighs and runs a hand through her dark pink hair. Her elocution is far past commenting on by now.
“Man, how’d I get such a gloomy toddler..”
That kind of comment doesn't bother Kurumi. They never do.
“Say, Kurumi-chan, if you only read all the time, your body’s gonna turn into mush! And then I’ll have to scoop you up and carry you with me all the time.” Baika’s expression turns wistful. Kurumi’s dawning horror is hard to hide, at this age. “..Of course, you’d hate that, wouldn’t you?”
Kurumi jumps to her feet. Already, the memories of being stuck in her cradle are starting to fade and blur, but she knows she worked really hard to walk early!
“Mother, I’ve decided, let’s go to the park today.”
The unfortunate price to getting what she wants is enduring her mother’s aggressive cheek pinches.
“Ah, my Kurumin speaks so well!”
Baika chases her around the park until Kurumi can’t breathe. She really does have to be carried home, a hand in her hair and a hum beneath her ear. She feels satisfied with her sore muscles—how silly of her to forget this integral part of her growth. Next time she’ll pace herself correctly.
She’s been reading about how to access her chakra, and she thinks she can manage it now. Neither of her parents will train her in such a skill, or at all. Not at this age. But hide and seek isn’t off the table. Her attempt at dampening her chakra around her sensor-type father is purely coincidental, or so she claims.
“Kurumi-chan? Kurumi-chan!”
Kurumi covers her mouth to prevent herself from laughing in the dark closet. She chokes a little when Baika throws it open with a frown. Ah, damn. Leave it to her mother to find her the old-fashioned way.
“That wasn’t very nice, Kurumi-chan.” Baika’s lips twitch upwards. “..But my love, it’s nice to see you finally having fun! Just try not to scare your father like that again, hm? When your chakra jumps like that, it makes him think you’ve gotten hurt.”
Oh, it jumps? So no luck.. She’ll have to keep studying this. What a pain.
Kurumi steps out of the closet and lets her mother pick her up and spin her in the air before taking her to her father.
If she was born anyone else, she wouldn’t have to resort to such a cruel trick on these first-time parents at all. If she was anyone else, she’d go to a regular school and study something interesting, get a good job and then get far, far away from this place. But she’ll be enrolled at the Academy next year, the place where hopes of a good life and higher education go to die.
“Can I hold your hand?”
“What?”
The boy flashes her a meek, apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry, I’m just nervous.. You’re the first Uchiha I saw.”
Kurumi eyes his hand. It glistens a little, probably clammy. She looks over her shoulder at her mother and father, encircling them with the few other parents who bothered to show up to orientation. Baika and Mikio each have an arm wrapped around the other, looking proud. They smile and give her thumbs ups. Without reciprocating, Kurumi returns her attention to the boy’s hand.
“Why are you nervous?”
His hand clenches around nothing, as if remembering something that isn’t there.
“I got lost on the way.. I was a little late. Do you think they think I’m slow? That’s not a good trait for a shinobi to have. I mean, there’s a war and my future teachers already think I’m slow and stupid–”
“I didn’t even notice. You worry a lot.”
Kurumi takes his hand. It’s just as cold and sweaty as she thought. She can’t resist making a face about it, instantly regretting her choice. The boy notices this with a yelp. He tugs his hand away to wipe it off on his shirt, a size too large for him. He grabs her hand back with a vengeance, squeezing rhythmically. Ugh, why did she agree to this? Surely there’s someone more qualified around.
“Let’s look for your parents.”
His grip tightens so intensely she expects a bruise from it tomorrow.
“Um.. My dad can’t walk. And my mom’s busy.”
“Oh.” Kurumi thinks about his family situation. It sounds.. “Hey, what’s your name?”
“Shisui! Thank you for this.. Who’re you, anyways?”
Shisui, huh? A future point of pride for their clan, and a budding genius currently, if his speech at this age is any indication. She begins to smile as she calculates the new possibilities awaiting her. Her parents are so overprotective and hardly teach her anything.. She’ll take whatever edge she can get. And there’s no Itachi in sight!
“I’m Kurumi. It’s nice to meet you, Shisui.”
“Same! You’re pretty nice, even with your grumpy face.”
“What a thing to say to your new classmate of the next five years..”
“Ah! Sorry, Kurumi-chan. You can be cute when you smile.”
She snorts and leaves it at that, squeezing his hand a little bit tighter. What luck.
They only stay in the same class for a month. None of her remaining classmates even compare.
“Are you sorry?”
“What for?”
Mikio digs the knuckle of his thumb into his brow.
“For breaking that little girl’s arm, Kurumi.”
“No.”
“Kurumi!”
“This place confuses me. Are we going to be shinobi or not?”
“Kurumi, that girl is your classmate. You can’t– It would be different if you two were sparring, but you can’t maul people on the playground!”
She doesn’t understand why her father is making such a big deal out of this. When has she ever gone after someone for no reason at all? She’s never been a violent person.
“She jumped on my back. What did she expect?”
Mikio sighs and plants his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Kurumi stares longingly at the front door. There are more productive things she could be doing than sitting through a half-baked lecture from a spineless chuunin.
“I swear.. If Baika were here, she’d– She’d..”
“Tell me it wasn’t a nice thing to do?”
He glares at her, but he can’t deny the truth. Neither of her parents know the meaning of strict when it comes to Kurumi.
“It wasn’t a nice thing to do. Maybe I should send you to my father, see how you like his version of–”
Kurumi perks up. More than always ready to take her side, her grandfather is always willing to teach her something her parents might otherwise deem too advanced or dangerous. That’s how she learned the Great Fireball a week after orientation. And nearly gave her mother an aneurysm. Maybe this time she could get him to teach her that shurikenjutsu she saw Shisui doing with his new class?
“Can I really?”
Mikio deflates.
“Of course that doesn’t work either. I don’t get why he’s so different from when I was a kid...” He mutters to himself. He takes in a deep, settling breath, and avoids looking her directly in the eyes. “Okay, Kurumi, listen up—I need you to promise that you won’t do this again. Suzuha is your comrade, not an enemy, and we don’t break our comrades arms, even if they jump on us, yes? You need to be able to differentiate playing from fighting.”
“I understand. But, her name is Shizuha.”
Hold on, is it? Suzuha, Shizuoka, Suzuna, Shizuka maybe.. Nah, it’s probably Shizuha.
“That’s it! You-” Mikio points, dangerously close to her face. Her cute, chubby face. “You.. are going to do the dishes for a week?”
“Oh. That’s all?”
Mikio groans.
“Just, do as I say. Please.”
“Of course.”
He’s so particular about things in the house that this will inevitably punish him more than it will her. Kurumi tries not to let her amusement show too obviously.
What a stupid man. She almost feels bad for him, really.
Mikio does get sick of her standards of washing and decides to send her to her grandfather while he rewashes every dish from the past two days. What did he expect from a four year old? She predicts he’ll deep clean the kitchen and inevitably the rest of the house and yard as well, which of course she won’t be allowed to help with and means the weekend with her grandfather. It’s really no bother to Kurumi. So far, she’s undecided which parent she prefers to be stuck with while they rotate missions. Mikio is high-strung and particular, but also a complete pushover. Baika just treats her like she’s stupid. But her grandfather.. Well.
Uchiha Naka is a grouchy, spry man in his mid sixties. He wears half of his sooty green hair in his face, though it does little to hide the permanent scowl wrinkled into it. Children cry if he so much as looks at them, cats run from his shadow, and flowers wilt when he walks by.
Okay, not really. But even Mikio is wary of him, his own son, and a baby really did cry in its mother’s arms at the sight of him.
Naka spoils Kurumi like none other.
“Have some more tea, dear.”
“Did your idiot father get you a new shuriken set yet? Bah, of course not.. Here, I had this made some time ago. It was for your graduation, but I’m sure I’ll find something even better by then.”
“Here’s another blanket, sweetheart.”
“Interested in my books again? You’re such a bright girl, Kurumi-chan. The Uchiha are lucky to have you.”
“Sweet thing, have another mochi. They’re for you.”
Kurumi smiles graciously at everything he says. He isn’t all that old, as far as grandfathers go, but she wonders if he’ll expire with the rest of them or die early. He isn’t an active shinobi anymore and lives with the rest of the old, unassimilated Uchiha in their historical town beyond the Kyuubi’s future reach, so she’s betting on the prior. What a sad end to such a prideful man.
“Grandpa, do you think you could show me how to tree walk? I can move my chakra well within my own body, but I’ve been getting confused with physical interaction.”
“Tree-walking, huh? Well, you’re pretty young. No need to rush, princess.”
Rush? She saw Shisui on the side of the butcher shop just last week. And Itachi is already two years old.
“Please, Grandpa? I know I’m close, and I want you to be the first person to see me succeed.”
“Oh! Well in that case..!”
“Aha! Is this Kurumi-chan?”
“Hello, Shisui. It’s been a while.”
“That’s me! Hey, what’re you doing standing in the street? You could get knocked over.”
Kurumi eyes the rooftops. Could she sustain her chakra there for as long as he can?
“I was testing something in my head. But you came down just to tell me that? That’s thoughtful.”
Shisui scratches his arm, casting his eyes to the ground.
“Ah, you noticed me? I’m still not fast enough, am I..”
Kurumi shrugs. Now they’re both blocking the middle of the street, but walking slowly is probably the worse offense. Not that she cares. She begins again at her own pace, following the list in her hand.
“I wouldn’t know.”
Shisui perks up a little and stops scratching his arm. He trails after her.
“I guess you’re still stuck in Daikoku’s class, then?” He sticks his tongue out slightly. “That guy was sooo boring. I don’t know how you’ve put up with it, really.”
Kurumi cocks her head. Picking at her after a moment of insecurity.. He’s so unsubtle.
“Is that why you dropped out?” She asks innocently.
“I did not! I tested out of all that crap, and I’m gonna graduate early!”
“Oh, is that so? Congratulations, Senpai.”
Shisui pouts and crosses his arms, seemingly unsure if he should be mollified or not.
“Hmph. You know, I bet if you tried, you could graduate early too.” He breaks into a smile. “We could see each other on the field! It’d be nice to be around someone my own age when I get put on a team.. Everyone I know treats me like a little kid.”
Yeah, right. Talking about teams already? All she’s been given is a grocery list, some cash, and strict instructions not to leave the Uchiha District. If she steps so much as a foot outside the watchful gazes of their clan, her father will appear in minutes. His sensing has improved in equal proportion to her chakra dampening. He cares, or something.
“I don’t think they do.”
Shisui ignores her and plucks the list out of her hands.
“Lemme help you! Let’s see.. Ummm. Ah-! Uh.. How about you tell me what you need and I grab it for you?” He says so with a smile and hands the list back to her, sticking out his hand for her coin purse.
“Are you trying to rob me?"
“Aw, c’mon, if I was, you wouldn’t even know what hit you.”
She tightens her grip on the grocery bag. No, she supposes she wouldn’t.
“..Say, Shisui, what if you taught me how to run on the rooftops? Then we could get all the items quickly together.”
Shisui blinks, unsubtly sizing her up. It’s terribly offensive, because at this age she’s bigger than him in every way.
“I don’t know.. Isn’t that kind of advanced? I mean–”
“I’ve been able to stick to walls for months now, it shouldn’t be that difficult.”
“Yeah, but it’s got more to do with how you move. Unless you want to break all the roof tiles?”
Kurumi purses her lips. What good is a genius if they won’t teach her anything?
“Persimmon.”
“What?”
“That’s the first kanji you couldn’t read.”
Shisui doesn’t blush or act bashful like she was hoping. Instead, his lips wobble before settling firmly downwards, his eyes narrowing and locking onto the list in her hand with open hate. Did she push too far already? Okay, so maybe there’s a reason she doesn’t have many friends. Or any at all.
Oh well.
If he’s going to be sour, she can play that, too. Kurumi waves the list in front of his face, taunting.
“Teach me and I’ll teach you.”
He once again snatches the list from her hands, pouring over it as if he could memorize every character without the Sharingan. Which, he probably could. Stupid geniuses. Kurumi had to at least write them all down first.
Finally, his smile returns.
“Hey! I know this one.” Shisui points low on the list with a laugh. “ ‘Walnut’ . That’s you!”
Kurumi winces. Shisui lets her take the list back, still laughing at her name. As if he’s in any position to talk. At least her name is cute and straight to the point.
“Ugh, forget I asked. I’ll just have my grandfather show me some time. See you later, Shisui.”
“Wait! You’re just gonna.. go?”
“Yeah? I have to get back home before dinner.”
“Oh.”
Kurumi narrows her eyes. Spectacularly, she senses there’s more to that oh than he’d like for her to perceive. Genius he may be, but they’re still only five. Kurumi weighs the situation in her mind and figures there’s probably a path of kindness to take here. Like asking what’s got him down, offering polite assurances, and inviting him for dinner. Maybe they’d even become close friends and he’d never hesitate to teach her what he knows ever again. In theory, she could do all those things now that she’s thought them up. She could physically open her mouth to say every word. After all, she’s known to most as a fairly pleasant girl, if a bit reserved. Arm breakage very aside. He seems to have a lot going on internally—he’d probably appreciate an attentive, patient ear.
But who’s to say? And he’s already wasted enough of her precious time.
“Are you running around outside just to avoid your parents?”
That spears through Shisui’s smiles and arm scratches and competitive glares. His lips tremble as his big eyes get bigger to hold all the water that starts pooling in them. Oh great. Maybe she really does spend too much time with her grandfather.
“Well, don’t cry! It was only a question.”
Shisui nods and tries to take in a steadying breath, but it wracks through his body instead. Kurumi looks around for assistance, but she doesn’t know any of these adults by name.
Oh, fine. Only because he looks so pathetic.
“Huh?”
Shisui blinks down at their connected hands in confusion, teary-eyes no longer on the brink of spilling over. He squeezes her hand in awe. Oh, gross, that’s twice now—is he just perpetually clammy?
“Let me know when I can let go. I really do have to go home at some point.”
Shisui lifts her arm in the air, inspecting their hands in the slowly setting sun. He isn’t smiling still, but that’s alright with Kurumi. It was getting kind of creepy in its excess.
“Hey, Kurumi-chan? D’ya think you can keep things to yourself?”
Well, sure. She’s got all, um, most of this world’s future seared into her brain, and she hasn’t cracked yet. Getting snatched by the powers that be isn’t really her top priority, you know? Whatever Shisui’s got to say can’t be anywhere near that level.
“Eh.”
Shisui sniffles and proceeds to tell her anyway, whispering in her ear with his disgustingly hot breath so the other people in the street (probably) can’t overhear. Or smell.
“My dad didn’t just lose his leg last year.. I think something happened to his head, too. He’s really different.”
Kurumi nods. And his mom is busy, of course. It would have been lucky, for her, if she’d been born into a family that lacked supervision like that. But she doubts Shisui has the same ambitions as her—mainly, learn everything possible about how to disappear without a trace and fake her death before Itachi is, oh, twelve or so. Canon wasn’t exactly consistent with the timeline. Shisui probably just wants to be a ninja to get really famous or rich or.. something.
“Okay. I won’t tell anyone.”
Shisui beams like her not telling a trusted adult is the best thing ever. Oh look, he’s missing a tooth.
“Do you have a secret, Kurumi-chan? I’ll keep it safe for you, promise!”
“Hmm, let’s see.. Not really.”
He pouts, locking their hands more tightly. She checks the stage of sunset. When will he let her go home?
“..Well, ever since I could read about it, I’ve wanted to see the capital.”
“Why are you keeping that kind of secret?! That’s so lame, Kurumi.”
Lame? Alright, she’s had enough of his hand-trapping and prodding. She shakes out of his grasp.
“Hey, who said you could drop the -chan?”
“Um.. You’re kind of a hypocrite.”
Oh, right. Honorifics. Without them, she isn’t really as polite as she’s made herself out to be. In fact, she must seem downright rude and anti-social..
Well, what can you do? Kurumi waves him goodbye and rushes to the last few stores highlighted on her list. Annoyingly, Shisui becomes her shadow above without even helping like he said he would.
He never does teach her how to run across the rooftops. As it turns out, this is also the one thing her grandfather refuses to teach a five-year-old. Independently, it takes her two days to master leaping between fence posts, and another week to gather the courage to do it up high on her own. She cracks a few tiles. And her wrist.
She wears the brace with a sort of triumph.
“Winner, Uchiha Kurumi!”
“What?” She manages between pants.
Sure, Shizuha’s on the ground, but that doesn’t mean it’s over. It can’t be over.
Shizuha glares up at her through dark blue locks, making no move to form her half of the reconciliation seal. Her normally pale face is bright red and shiny from perspiration.
Of course, Kurumi famously managed to break her arm while playing that one time, but that was only because she crushed Shizuha against the climbing wall she jumped down on her from. Hyuuga Shizuha had steadily conquered the top spot in spars since then, where she’s sat undefeated for the past six months.
“That’s right, Kurumi.” She spits. “You win.”
Well. Yes.
Shisui graduates after only two years. When he notices her from the classroom watching him leave the grounds for good, he only taps his shiny new hitae-ate with a haughty grin before speeding away. Kurumi clicks her tongue and erases a few of the correct answers on her test.
Idiot.
She was never measuring their growth by who could be sent off to war the fastest.
Mikio’s been giving her sideways looks all dinner. If he’s not going to come out and say what’s on his mind, Kurumi won’t ask. She knows she’s not in any real trouble—she never is—so it’s really none of her concern. They eat in silence. In another life, she was always filling the quiet with chatter about something she read, something she saw, work, the weather, even the goddamn laundry. That person doesn’t seem like her at all.
“..Hey, Kurumi-chan, did you hear about that boy?”
Kurumi looks up from her noodles. Mikio has a wider repertoire of recipes than Baika, but at the expense of flavor. Although Kurumi hasn’t been asked to help in the kitchen any, so she can’t exactly complain.
“Which one?”
“He’s an Uchiha too, a little boy your age.. He just made genin. Isn’t that– What do you think of that?”
“Shisui works hard.”
“Right. I, um.. I heard you’ve been doing really well in taijutsu recently. Finally learned to keep it off the playground, huh?” His laugh shakes around the edges. “That’s… good, princess, I want you to succeed. Just- remember to have fun, yeah?”
“I will. Thank you.”
Mikio’s chopsticks clink against the side of his bowl. His eyes drift to the wall, to the photograph of him and Baika bringing her home for the first time. They paid good money to get it in color, back then. Most of the other pictures on the wall make Mikio’s green hair look black, and Baika’s deep pink look mousey brown. Kurumi’s hair doesn’t change much whether the photo is grayscale, sepia-toned or full color—always the same medium, dull brown.
“I remember, it used to be so hard to get your nose out of your books.” Mikio makes a face. “Ugh, and my father was always teaching you anything you read about. No more roof time until you’re a ge– a good nine years old, okay?”
Oh please.
“Okay.”
“Anyways Kurumi-chan, I just mean to say that you can take your time, you know? Enjoy the present.”
She meets his eyes then. They’re the same black color as hers, unnervingly so, like two giant pupils trying to suck in as much light as possible. He might die on his next mission. Her mother might even be dead right now, and neither of them know it yet. They could both die when the Kyuubi is released. Or on missions after that. It doesn’t matter when it happens, or what order it occurs in. Itachi will cut them down even if they survive all of that.
Kurumi is the only Uchiha out of place. And if she has any say, it’ll stay that way.
“Okay.”
For some unknown reason, Mikio starts to laugh.
“You know, you’re a tough nut to crack, Kurumi-chan.” He leans over the table to pat her messy, short locks. “I bet I don’t have to worry about you at all, hm? That’s how you would have it. But I always will. Me and your mother and even your terrible grandfather will always worry over our only little nut.”
Kurumi takes in another mouthful of noodles.
What a stupid man.
Baika keeps her on an even tighter leash than Mikio, who can at least sense her whereabouts and drag her back into the Uchiha District if she ever “accidentally” wanders too far. No, Baika rarely even lets her out of her line of sight if they leave the house.
Which is how Kurumi finds herself spending time standing in chicken shit instead of learning the mysteries of chakra or training her control over it or creating her own jutsu. Baika is reading something for leisure on the porch, flat on her back with crossed legs. One of the neighborhood stray cats is curled up next to her feet, watching Kurumi intently. Or more likely, watching the chickens, wanting, waiting for her to leave the coop’s gate open even a crack. When she’s sure Baika won’t see, Kurumi sticks her tongue out at it, the ambitious little thing.
“And I hate you,” she whispers to Hibiki, the rooster in her arms.
They have a small backyard—well, smaller than her grandfather’s—just enough for a fenced off area housing Hibiki and the four other chickens, as well as three young orange trees opposite to the coop. Collecting the eggs and making sure the chickens are fed and watered daily are really her only designated chores here. Their house is a small, simple two bedroom that Baika keeps tidy and Mikio cleans religiously, and they both enjoy cooking in their own way, leaving Kurumi to her schoolwork or independent studies most of the time.
There’s no TV or radio to fill the quiet. Just the soft coos and clucks of the chickens, her mother turning a page, their neighbor’s off-key humming, the cat thumping its tail, a songbird out of sight getting farther and farther away.
After a mission away from home Baika looks happy where she is, but if Kurumi sits down and reads one more page, her eyes are going to bleed.
It’s quite boring. That’s probably why kids her age have friends.
Shizuha starts sitting next to the window whenever she can. Before, she’d sit at the end of a row, one leg straddling the edge of her seat, ready to run for the door the second class ended. She seems like someone who enjoys being outside and in the sun, for all it burns her ever porcelain skin. But the windows are large enough to look out of from any position in the classroom. Still, she’s pressed up against them.
Shizuha’s number one spot in taijutsu is usurped by her younger clansman, Tokuma. Kurumi bests him less than half the time, and remains a solid number two. Shizuha trails down to a respectable, but alarming, fourth. Her other academics have been suffering as well, and a once promising member of the next generation quietly dwindles into mediocrity. Her marks in kunoichi classes only remain high because she has a face like a doll, and her new personality is withdrawn to the point of mistaken grace. She can’t be seen jumping on other girls at the playground anymore.
Whoever it is picking her up from school, be it her parents or her grandfather, Kurumi is always given a kiss on her resistant head, and Shizuha, alone, openly stares with envy. Whenever spotted outside of school, it’s in the shadow of a lady with a proud, bare forehead, and hair quite like Shizuha’s own.
Kurumi lets her cheat off of her during exams, but still when their new academic session starts in January, Shizuha’s seat is empty. Not even Tokuma remarks on it at all.
“Grandpa, are you sure you don’t know how to sense chakra? You’re not just saying that so you don’t have to teach me, right?”
Naka smiles over his cup of tea.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’m sure. Your father gets it from his mother.”
Kurumi sighs. Well, that’s no good. Naka is the only grandparent she’s ever had.
“Do you think I could have it too?”
“Hmm.. It’s hard to say, since you haven’t naturally taken to it already. But, my little Kurumin could probably learn how! You do have her blood, after all.”
Her blood. Kurumi doesn’t even know her name. Although it’s not a mystery—multiple portraits and even a few photographs of her exist around her grandfather’s house. But she’s really got nothing to do with Kurumi beyond this esoteric connection of blood.
“Aww. My dad won’t teach me until forever.”
Being six can be so stifling.
“Do you need something?”
Kurumi blinks.
“That wasn’t my intention. It’s a public park, is it not?”
The girl, her classmate, someone with pale blonde hair and orange-ish eyes, scrunches her nose. Although she’s been one of the darlings of their shared kunoichi classes for the past two years, her name remains a mystery.
“Oh. But you never use the swings with us. You’re always,” she rolls her wrist, “Running around.”
Kurumi looks over her shoulder. Her mother is the only parent who feels the need to supervise, and sits utterly alone on the bench. Baika gives her a thumbs up.
“Shizuha could use the swings with you guys.”
The girl looks off to the side, as if remembering something unpleasant. Kurumi is pretty sure they had been friends once, this girl and Shizuha, but that had changed. After a moment, the girl speaks up again.
“Yeah, well she used everything. She never stopped messing around.” Her nose scrunches again. Her eyes trail down Kurumi, dragging over her tight grip on the swing’s chains. Disgust. “She always played too rough. And you..”
Broke her arm, right.
“I see.”
Maybe friends just aren’t for her. Ah, well. She tried. It’s nice to know that Shizuha wasn’t completely erased from existence though, even if she only remains in the recollection of her worst moments. Kurumi hops off the swing she’d snatched out from under a member of the girl’s posse.
“It was nice to talk to you. Bye.”
She makes a beeline for Baika, not wasting a single second waiting for the girl’s response. Her mother droops when she sees that her daughter’s kid-time has been cut short by Kurumi herself. They both know there’s nothing she can do but accept it.
“Done already, my love?”
“Yeah. We can go shopping now. I want to start that book you got for me when we get home.”
Baika sighs but stands. Her face says it all. That girl. It’s silly to waste so much of her energy worrying about Kurumi, though.
Her parents try to make sure at least one of them is in the village at a time to take care of her, although the war has frequently put this out of their hands—as her mother is the jounin of the household, Kurumi’s time with Baika is impacted the most, and she gets carted off to stay with her grandfather for a day or a week at a time. The rotating, slightly erratic schedules are meant to reduce the risk of orphaning her completely, but also mean that her parents don’t see each other often. So when they do?
Baika picks Kurumi up by the armpits and slams her into Mikio’s chest, crushing her between them as they embrace. Luckily, the suffocation is short-lived, although they give her a kiss on the head each before they let her go. As soon as her toes touch the ground, they’re hugging each other tight on their own.
The gate guards might cringe when they peck each other’s lips, but it’s all actually very sweet.
“Whoa, gross.”
Shisui enters from the gate with his shiny new team. Well, they’re new to Kurumi. His eyes lock onto hers in seconds, and pitch between her and the “gross” couple blocking his path. The moment he makes the connection, his face lights up with glee and he sprints to her side.
“Haha!” Shisui points directly at them. “Kurumi, your parents really–”
“Like each other? I hope they do.”
He blinks, reconsidering.
“Yeah, I guess so. That’s.. nice.” The hand that was going for her shoulder drops back down to his side. He narrows his eyes. “You know what? It’s not so obvious, but I think you look more like your dad.”
“That’s exactly what every girl wants to hear.”
Shisui tilts his head, uncomprehending but still sensing her sarcasm. Baika and Mikio have moved on from kissing and onto jumping in place while updating each other rapidly, still connected at the torso.
“Ah, Shisui-kun, who’s your friend?”
Kurumi and Shisui look to the source of the voice in unison. It’s from a man of average height, if not slightly on the tall side, with a completely unremarkable appearance save for his eyes, which are a shade of red strikingly similar to the Sharingan. Of course, lacking the classic glow and black tomoe, it’s clear he isn’t actually an Uchiha.
“I’m-”
“Who, Kurumi? She’s just an old classmate of mine.”
Oh wow. The man raises an eyebrow.
“If you keep writing off everyone you know, you’ll be completely friendless soon enough.”
“Oh wait.” One of the boys flanking their sensei’s side pipes up with crossed arms. “Isn’t he?”
The other one reaches over for the express purpose of knocking him upside the head.
“He’s got me!”
Curiously, Shisui blushes from his cheeks to his ears. She glances at her parents. Yup, still going. Kurumi makes the decision to tug one red ear close to her mouth while they can’t see.
“Is that one your boyfriend?” She whispers.
Shisui yelps and pushes her away. If it’s possible, his face gets even redder. Kurumi can’t help it—at first it’s just a little snort, but it quickly grows into full-blown laughter. He’s the only one that’s this fun to mess with.
“K-Kurumi!”
“Come on, it’s a joke! He’s too old!”
The man looks between her and his student with pinched brows. Shisui’s two teammates don’t seem to have caught what she said either. Kurumi hides her face in her hands, trying to stop her laughter. Her cheeks burn like hell. She coughs, forcing an unfamiliar grin down. She’s been rude.
“Hello, I’m Uchiha Kurumi. It’s nice to meet you.”
The man nods at her, and offers a small smile.
“Yuuhi Shinku. These two are Fukuda Kiyomu,” the boy with the crossed arms, “and Shimura Saizō.” The one Shisui likes. Shinku casts an eye to the side and grimaces, “Miss Kurumi, when you get home, would you please let your parents know, respectfully of course, that that’s quite enough for a public space?”
Does he hate love? What a miserable man.
“….”
“Aww, Sensei, they’re not hurting anyone!” Shisui whines, his pale face now only dusted pink. “You’re just saying that ‘cuz you’re divorced!”
Shinku’s expression darkens. Kiyomu and Saizō share horrified looks.
“..Haha. See ya later, Kurumi!”
Shisui sticks out his tongue at Shinku before running away at full speed. Which, for a six year old, even one with chakra, is quite fast.
“Must be nice..”
“Kurumin, was that your friend just now?” Baika asks, appearing right behind her. She puts her big adult hands on both of her small shoulders, tilting her back slightly so Kurumi can see her hopeful smile.
“Oh, Shisui? I guess so.”
Baika and Mikio flash each other grins.
“That’s very exciting! Just, don’t let him get you into trouble, alright? He might be a genin, but you’re still in the Academy.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Kiyomu and Saizō, huh? She wonders which one of them it is that Shisui is going to let die soon.
“Ah, Mother, can I meet you at home later?”
“What? Who’s going to be with you until then, huh?”
Kurumi points. Shisui is standing still for once, crouched between the butcher shop and the massage parlor, trying to get the stray Miyu to eat a piece of meat from his hand. The stupid cat licks between his fingers, missing the meat entirely, but it makes him smile.
“Shisui’s a chuunin now. So that’s fine, right?”
Baika’s eyebrows jump up. Of course it’s shocking—that’s Mikio’s rank, after all. For a boy their daughter’s age to be given the same responsibilities as him is a bit of a trip.
Shisui’s head whips around at the sound of his name. He waves, accidentally flinging the scrap of meat to the ground. Miyu quickly descends on it. Shisui looks upon this in dismay for all of a second before deciding to simply pet Miyu while she eats.
“I.. I suppose.” Baika blinks between the two of them. Kurumi having a so-called friend is uncharted territory. “Just– don’t get caught up, okay? If he tries to make you do anything outside of your comfort zone, don’t feel pressured, alright?”
“I won’t.”
“And when the sun touches the tree-line, you have to come home, okay?”
“Alright.”
“And.. if any adults try to pick on you guys, send them to me! Shisui and you can handle any kids, yes?”
“I’m sure of it.”
Baika bites her lip. Her foot taps the ground. The grocery bags drop to the street.
“Aww, I’m so happy!” She places her cheek against Kurumi’s temple, wrapping her up in her arms. “Have a lot of fun, princess. I’ll have dinner ready when you come home—if Shisui’s parents are fine with it, he can stop by to eat as a thank you for looking after my little nut, okay?”
Baika always smells nice.
“Okay.”
Shisui, one hand covered in meat juice and cat saliva, the other covered in black fur stuck to his own sweat, places both of them on his hips after crossing the street to stand beside them. His smile isn’t as wide as usual, maybe a little intimidated by her mother even though she’s fussing about Kurumi on her knees.
“If you hear your name that many times, you have to hope it’s only good things.. So, what’cha talking about?” He keeps his eyes firmly on Kurumi.
“Hi, Shisui. I was just asking my mother if I could hang out with you for a while. Is that okay?”
Shisui has these really huge eyes, not set forward like hers are, but naturally wide in a way that would strain her to imitate. They’re very good at conveying his surprise, better even than the hand that points to himself.
“Me? You really want to hang out with me?”
Kurumi and Baika share a look. She almost feels bad. It’s going to break his heart when he figures out she just wants to lift some jutsu off him.
“Um. Yes, Shisui. I do.”
Something like a squeal rises up in Shisui’s throat and quickly dies. His smile, however, cannot be contained. He lifts up on his toes and rocks back. She’s reminded of their last encounter, ‘Oh, Kurumi?’ with some amusement. Isn’t this that same kid?
“Well, um, great! Sure!”
Kurumi sends her mother a look. Baika smiles and pats her cheek.
“Alright, you two have fun! And, Shisui-kun, if you’d like, you can come over for dinner. If that’s alright with your parents, of course. I’m making–”
Shisui looks somewhere approximate to her nose.
“Ah, thank you ma’am.. But I don’t think I can. Thanks, though.”
“Some other time, then.”
She leans forward to kiss Kurumi on the head, as is customary each time she departs. The habit is so ingrained in her, a person who doesn’t spend much time with children outside of her daughter, that in a single fluid motion she’s kissing Shisui on top of the head, too. It’s brief, automatic as she picks up the groceries, but she seems a little bewildered as she stands.
Shisui looks horrified, white-faced and still.
“Oh, I’m sorry.. Welp! I’m off.” Baika’s face does something interesting, “Uh, say hi to your mom for me, okay?”
She retreats to the rooftops. Kurumi would pout—Baika doesn’t let her run on the rooftops—if she wasn’t already hiding a snicker behind her hand. The instant Baika is out of sight, Shisui turns to Kurumi, face bright red. These two.
“What the hell was that for!?” Shisui twists his dirty hands in his hair, groaning. “And she knows my mom? Eugh!”
Kurumi thinks about that. She has no reference for Shisui’s mother, not even what she looks like—of course, Baika has been an Uchiha for much longer than Kurumi. Knowing clansmen beyond their nuclear family is bound to be the case. But wouldn’t it be such a coincidence if…
“Say, Shisui, is your mother Nijimi?”
Shisui takes a step back, looking more miserable by the second.
“Oh great, you know her too? Is that why you wanna hang out with me? Is she trying to tell me something?”
“Ah, no, you’ve got the wrong idea. I’ve only heard her name—she was my mother’s genin teammate. I didn’t think they got along.”
“Really? Then I guess your mom’s not so bad..”
What a reaction.. So it’s as she suspected.
“Mm. And, I wanted to hang out because the last time I saw you, you said we weren’t friends.. So, let’s be friends.”
Shisui looks over his shoulder, hands in his pockets. Miyu the stray has long since finished her meal and disappeared elsewhere in the district.
“…This sort of thing doesn’t happen to me.” Shisui admits, looking to the side even as he speaks.
It’s strange for such an upbeat person to be without friends, but she remembers his teammate implying something to that effect some time ago. It can’t be that he’s unpleasant to be around..
“But you had friends back in the Academy? You and Maruten got along really well, I remember.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot all about that guy.”
Ah. Perhaps that’s why.
“You’re not very good with keeping up with people, are you?” She cuts off Shisui’s grunt of dismay, “That’s okay. You don’t have to keep up with me. But we can still be friends.”
Kurumi eyes one of his pockets. Each time it’s been an unpleasant experience, and this time she knows both of his hands are dirty, but how else is she supposed to make him believe in her? Her instructor for kunoichi classes told her that establishing physical contact would be key because she has sort of an untrustworthy face. Oh well. Not everyone can look like the doll, Shiz–
Kurumi sighs and offers her hand. She’s wasted enough years already. If she’s ever going to escape her fate, she needs more than a single fire jutsu, wall-walking, and low-level magical parkour. She needs a genius on the trajectory of greatness, with none of the unwanted attention lurking in the shadows. She needs Shisui, before Itachi.
“So? Friends?”
Shisui the genius stares at her hand. Up to her eyes. She crinkles them.
“Is this really how it works?”
“Sure it is.”
Shisui shrugs and shakes her hand.
“Okay. Cool! So, what should we do as friends? Usually I like to practice my shurikenjutsu but Shinku-sensei just made me start practicing with this cruddy tantō, or we could do shunshin tag, or, um, regular tag, since you’re still in the Academy, but I’d probably win, so maybe we could–”
Oh, wow. Is training all he thinks about?
That’s just as well.
Kurumi quickly learns that despite being the only canon character she knows, Shisui is not the heavy hitter of his team—he’s the diversion. Saizō, his not-crush, is the real celebrated talent of the team.
“It’s like everything he touches just falls into place. Sensei gave us all a tantō for the first time and bam! It was like he’d been born with it.” He looks down miserably at the blade in his hands. “I’ve been practicing with it every morning and I’m still not as good as him..”
That’s because you’re little, idiot. And Kurumi has observed him since the Academy—she’s sure he’s selling himself short.
“Sensei says I’m a genjutsu type like him, but I wish he’d let me see more action.. How else am I supposed to get my Sharingan? If I’m gonna catch up to even stupid Kiyomu, then I’ll need those eyes.”
Kurumi hums around the onigiri Shisui bought for them to share. Only, Shisui has a small appetite, so she’s had to take his remaining piece.
“My mother doesn’t have the Sharingan, and she’s a jounin. I wouldn’t worry so much—you’re just younger than them. You’ll catch up.”
Shisui scrunches up his nose.
“Age doesn’t mean anything.. I mean, you’re a student still and we’re the same age. I just don’t have the skill that they do.”
When she said they could be friends, she didn’t mean lean-on-each-other’s-shoulder friends, she meant more like.. training buddies. She thought he felt the same way at first, but after throwing shuriken until their hands cramped and running laps until they were nauseous, Shisui’s mushy side reared its ugly head. Apparently it’s here to stay.
“Oh, you’re too kind.”
Shisui peers at her from the corner of his eye.
“I dunno Kurumi, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t feel like you really want to be a shinobi as much as I do. So, that’s why you’re still in school.”
“Mm. All of my classmates try their best, though. The class rankings aren’t set—everyone’s growing at their own pace, in different ways. You haven’t reached your limit at six years old, that’s impossible.”
Her words glide off him completely. Ugh.
“My mom is only tokubetsu with her Sharingan.. If it wasn’t for that, we’d be the same rank.”
She’s not going to waste any more time trying to explain to him that a six year old boy and a grown woman are not on the same level, regardless of rank. There’s a war, and Konoha is militarily weaker than ever—they’re handing out promotions like candy to bolster their numbers on papers meant for the Daimyō’s eyes. Shisui wouldn’t understand things like that, since he “tested out” of it.
Sure, he’s a bonafide prodigy. But most importantly, he’s a desperate kid with no practical knowledge about the world he lives in. That information is kept behind tight lips and documented in ways he has no interest in learning to decipher. Hell, her chickens probably know more kanji than him.
It’s his best trait, in times like these.
“You still worry a lot.”
“Don’t you worry about anything?”
There’s a grain of rice still sticking to her finger. Below, dozens of their clansmen mill through the street, some of them old, some of them young, some of them children. More will be born this year, and for years after that. The stray cats will multiply and so will the birds. And there she sits, on tiles rounded and blue, chipped and cracked from age.
When she rubs her fingers together, the grain of rice breaks into beads and falls to the ground.
“Sure I do.”
Her days start looking like this: Wake up, read, eat breakfast, check on the chickens, go to school, do homework, find Shisui, eat dinner, read, go to bed. Even though he’s practically made out of smiles and warm words, Shisui only seems to remember she exists when she’s in his line of sight. Getting information out of him is not quite like wringing a rock—no, that’s Baika and Mikio—but she does have to put up with a lot of unrelated chatter. It’s more similar to getting instruction from her grandfather, only Shisui ranks slightly higher in her books because he’s much more reckless with her wellbeing.
But if she has to listen to Shisui wax poetic about Saizō’s skill with kenjutsu, bōjutsu, taijutsu, and ninjutsu (and ikebana, and money, and hair, and cooking!) for another hour, her ears are going to bleed. It’s really such a shame that Saizō is twice his age, or she’d tell him to just confess already and get over it. He probably would, too. Shisui wasn’t in school long enough to know what “gay” is and all its many connotations in the village. She can’t even tease him for it too much or he’ll develop the wrong idea about things. What a bore.
“Well if he’s so good, why don’t you just train with him, huh? Why stick around with me?”
Shisui grunts from the force of her kunai bearing down on his tantō. He’s swift enough to dodge her about ninety percent of the time, but he’s focusing on building his stamina for blocking today. Feeling like he’s not even trying is so frustrating. He keeps up perfectly well.
“He only trains with his clan—and I’m not allowed in their compound.”
“Ah, really? You don’t train as a team?”
Shisui attempts to kick her leg out of position. It’s too bad that he’s so shrimpy. She doesn’t budge.
“Oh, sure we do. But only Shinku-sensei sets those up. They would never listen to me, the junior..”
Kurumi tries to sweep his legs out in turn, but he’s already jumping back.
“Just genjutsu them or something. You’re that type, right?”
Shisui slides his approach to a halt. She senses he’s about to ask for a pause, and lowers her kunai, sighing heavily.
“What kind of– No! I’m not gonna, uh, hypnotize them or something! They’re my teammates! I am not that type.”
“Okay.” Kurumi puts her hands up placatingly, kunai and all. “Hey, I only meant that you’re a genjutsu type. Right? You told me that.”
“..You’re right. I did say that, didn’t I?” Shisui laughs and scratches behind his ear. Little idiot. “Even so, Saizō-san and Kiyomu are a lot better at it than me.”
Oh great. Kurumi pockets her kunai and lowers herself onto the grass without preamble. They’re still in the ugly duckling phase of this partnership—she has to let him get these things out now so it doesn’t build up over time.
“They’ve been under your sensei’s instruction for three years. They just have more experience with it. With everything.”
Shisui seems perplexed by the complete break in their spar, but sits down next to her and takes to ripping up the grass beneath them without a second thought.
“I guess that’s true.. What, so you only say sensible things?” His face twists as he says ‘sensible’. “You’re like a book?”
“Ah, you think so? Is that boring to you?”
Shisui actually takes a moment to ponder this.
“Not exactly… Shinku-sensei says the same things, but I just know how to annoy him back.”
Oh, so she annoys him. That’s.. Kurumi tries to hide her snicker behind her hand. Maybe that’s why he never seeks her out himself, except he's too polite to ask for a refund on their “friendship”. Suddenly, she sees all his irritating chatter as alright. Now they’re equal.
“Then eventually you’ll listen to one of us. Besides, your genjutsu must be better than anyone else our age. I don’t know any at all.”
“You wanna learn?”
“Yes. It's kind of the epitome of the ninja arts, isn’t it?”
“Huh. You know, I didn't take you for a subtle kind of person. Since you’re always asking me about shurikenjutsu or taijutsu, I thought you were more of a contact ninja..”
“I really give off that impression?”
Shisui nods, smiling as he offers the shredded grass to the wind.
“Yeah, I even heard what you did to that Hyuuga girl! Haha, Kurumi, you’re brutal!”
“Really? That was forever ago.. And it wasn’t like that. I sort of liked Shizuha, she just startled me.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re kinda big for our age, so it’ll always come off that way. If you want to be a subtle shinobi, you’ll have to work extra hard.”
She sighs. It’s true. Her father may only be an inch or so taller than her mother, but Baika is quite tall for a woman. Kurumi is going to have no luck when it comes to blending in vertically. Of course, it doesn’t help that kids like Shisui and Shizuha are so tiny either.
“Are you good at that? Being subtle? Could you teach me?”
“I dunno… Hey, do you even know Bunshin?”
Kurumi shakes her head. Out of the basic three, they’ve only practiced Kawarimi at school. She probably could have asked Naka, but he’s her main source of extracurricular skills. It wouldn’t do to stand out too much in school, lest she end up like Shisui. Of course, if he’s offering, Kurumi senses she shouldn’t say no. Itachi is soon turning four.
“O-kay!” Shisui lifts his finger, approximating a teacher’s stance. “The Bunshin’s purpose may be to be seen, but it’s kind of a foundational jutsu when it comes to tricking your opponent and hiding away. I’m pretty good at this one! Watch, the seals are Tiger, Boar, Ox, Dog..”
Shisui is sitting to her left, turned toward her. In an instant, no less than a dozen Shisuis seem to slide out from his body, all sitting neatly in a row. They wave at her in sync.
“...And if you concentrate,” All thirteen Shisui close their eyes and quickly perform the Bird, Hare, and Ram seals, “You can add sound.” Their eyes open, “Hi!”
“Whoa..”
The Shisuis preen at the attention.
“You think that’s cool? Watch, watch!”
The Shisui next to her, the real Shisui, leans back. The clone next to him leans back, offset by a quarter second, then the next, and the one after that, all following Shisui’s changing lean one after another. The real Shisui claps in time with the thirteenth before the rest snap.
“Pretty cool, huh?” The Shisuis all say out of order, and in various pitches.
Kurumi covers her ears.
“That’s worse than my rooster.. You’re gonna give me a headache.”
The Shisuis all laugh as they begin to disperse.
“That’s the idea! I’ve used this one a lot on the field to buy Saizō-san and stupid Kiyomu time. Maybe it challenged me back at the Academy but it’s pretty easy now.”
Kurumi hums and takes her hands off her ears. He’s very nonchalant about these things.
“That’s sad.”
“Huh? What’s sad about that?”
“..Ah, don’t worry about it. Show me the hand seals again?”
Getting dropped off at her grandfather’s house is always a brisk, almost pleasant affair. The location of it is not a district within Konoha—no, that’s where her primary residence lies—but she hesitates to name it a compound either, though that is the official title owed to its walls. It’s really built like an autonomous town, and indeed used to be one before the founding of Konoha. Although primarily an Uchiha retirement community in the modern age, it gets just enough traffic from the workforce to repurpose empty houses for hospitality and to support a thriving market of its own. Foreign merchants that themselves or their wares don’t clear in the village proper can be found there. Konoha’s main police station is located outside of the commercial areas here, as is the prison it oversees. For ease of access, there’s even a stone path leading out of Konoha’s southern gate into the compound.
The not-so pleasant part is getting back into the village.
“Wake up, sweetheart! You have to get dressed and eat before you’re late for school.”
Kurumi pats Naka’s hand in her hair, blinking awake. School starts at 8 a.m. It’s currently 4 a.m. It’s so dark out not even Hibiki will be crowing. Well, maybe he would be starting.
“Okay, I’m getting up.”
Still bleary-eyed, she can’t quite see his smile, but she can hear it in his voice after he kisses her head.
“I’ve already got breakfast on the table. I’ll pack your lunch while you wash up, okay?”
Kurumi pats his cheek.
“Thank you, Grandpa.”
It’s a quarter til 5 by the time they join the queue at the southern gate. There’s always a line to get into Konoha, no matter how early they get up, as there are merchant caravans or shinobi teams working overnight that beat them. The sky becomes much lighter in the half-hour it takes for them to reach the front of the line, now a soft blue as the sun struggles to peek through the treeline.
She’s been reassured by gate guards in the past that the wait is only due to their proximity to the prison—it wouldn’t do to accidentally let an escaped criminal disguised as an Uchiha into their precious Konoha, now would it? But they’ve made the trip to the west gate before, only for her to really arrive at school late. They’ve got two sets of IDs, one as Uchiha that has their fingerprints and one as citizens of Konoha that has their pictures, so verification takes twice as long. Not to mention the black mark on her grandfather’s records he refuses to tell her about. She’ll get it out of him, one day.
Kurumi has her preferred gate guards, the ones that wave her through after authenticating her paperwork and sometimes give her an apple from their own lunch while they deal with the inevitable hassle that is Uchiha Naka. Every so often, there’s even a chair for her to wait in, although that quickly gets given up to someone more elderly.
None of them are here today.
“Bag.” The gate chuunin demands, waving his hand impatiently. He isn’t someone she’s seen before.
She hands it over, and unclasps her empty leg holster before he can even ask. Neither she nor Naka are registered shinobi, so they’re thoroughly checked for weapons. The gate guards have confiscated enough of her shuriken and kunai in the past for them to now permanently reside at her parents’ house in the Uchiha District. They have to make a detour there before the Academy every morning.
The chuunin searching through her bag isn’t gentle with it, but in no way the roughest she’s seen. If they think they feel something in the lining, they’ll cut it open and leave her with gaping holes neither she nor Naka know how to patch. But this one seems satisfied with only snatching an onigiri from her lunch, thinking she wouldn’t see. Well, she saw, and she isn’t happy about it.
Not that there’s anything she can do.
He hands her bag and holster back, and makes her turn her pockets inside out. Kurumi’s hair is short and unstyled for this very situation, but it’s still big like her mother’s, so he passes his fingers through it in sections, indelicately tugging through any snagging. Since she’s only a child, if really prodded, they might claim it’s to check for lice. He does let her keep her sandals on, given that they’re old-style like Naka’s and don’t cover much of anything. How nice.
“What are you coming into the village for?”
“School,” Kurumi answers, fixing her hair back into place as the chuunin places her first ID on top of a light, checking the material and hidden patterns.
“So early?”
“Yes, sir. We have to stop by my parents’ house before school.”
“Your parents’ house? So, you don’t live with them? Why is that?”
“I do live with them, sir. They’re both needed on missions right now.”
“I see. Why don’t you stay with a neighbor while they’re away?”
“My grandfather doesn’t make unnecessary trips into the village, sir. If I stayed with a neighbor, we would hardly ever see each other.”
The chuunin glances over to his partner. Predictably, they’re taking Naka aside to get a supervisor to approve his papers. Kurumi’s first ID passes authentication.
“That man is your grandfather?”
“Yes, sir.”
He tilts his head, suspicious.
“You don’t look alike.”
“I’m told my father takes after my grandmother. My grandfather’s late wife. Sir.”
“Not that you take after your mother?”
Kurumi shakes her head.
“I’ve never been told that, no. Sir.”
Her second ID passes authentication. She gives him her right hand to check that her fingerprints match. When she becomes a genin, her blood signature will be added to a special scroll, and she’ll be allowed to enter Konoha almost unaided. Allegedly.
“What is your grandfather’s name?”
“Uchiha Naka.”
The chuunin grunts. Ah, it is a very common name, isn’t it?
“What are your parents’ names?”
“Uchiha Baika and Uchiha Mikio.”
“Why are you going to their house before class?”
“To pick up my shuriken and kunai for school, and to take care of our chickens, sir.”
“Do your neighbors ever help to take care of your chickens while you’re away?”
“Yes, on the weekends, sir.”
“What are their names?”
“Uchiha Taiko lives with his older brother, Inabi, across the street. Uchiha Hazuki used to live next to us with her baby, but she moved away two years ago when she got married. I don’t know our other neighbors by name.”
“Uchiha, Uchiha, Uchiha.. So you live in the Uchiha District?”
She notices that he added an Uchiha to the number of times she said it. Not that he’s wrong. It’s on her papers, anyways.
“Yes, sir.”
He gestures for her left hand. She gives it.
“What year are you in at school?”
“My second year. I enrolled in the January session.”
“How long after class will you stay in the village?”
“It’s about an hour walk back to this gate, sir. I plan to come right away.”
“How long have you been staying with your grandfather?”
“Two days and three nights, sir.”
“When will you return to staying with your parents?”
“I’m not sure.”
“How often do you stay with your grandfather?”
“Whenever the Hokage needs both of my parents.”
“Oh, so familiar with him, are you?”
“Whenever Hokage-sama needs, sir.”
He hums and hands her back her IDs. As always, everything is in order.
“Well, Miss, you’re free to go. However, we’ll be holding onto your grandfather for a while longer.”
“Okay, thank you. See you tomorrow,” Kurumi can’t help but add.
She looks over for Naka, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Probably, they’ve taken him inside the wall itself while waiting for a supervisor to grant him access to the village. The chuunin that was checking him is already letting someone else through. Kurumi walks to the nearest awning inside the village and settles down on the ground to read while she waits. Public benches aren’t common in Konoha, but the worst part of this arrangement is when it starts to unexpectedly rain. Not today, though.
An hour passes. Kurumi closes her book. Next time, she’ll bring a puzzle.
“Hey, where were you?”
Kurumi twists from her grandfather’s side. That’s Shisui’s voice. And behold, there he stands a few feet away, heels and palms to the Academy’s walls. Naka grips her hand tighter, and she absently pats his arm to get him to loosen up. He should be thankful to get so much as that—she doesn’t even let her parents hold her hand.
“Hi, Shisui. You were looking for me?”
He nods, big eyes jumping between her and Naka.
“Um, yeah, you usually come find me but you didn’t for a few days after I got back.. I started wondering if something happened.”
Naka huffs low in his throat, coming out as gravel. She pats his arm again.
“Sorry, I didn’t think to tell you that I’ve been staying with my grandfather recently. After all, I don’t get any notice when your team leaves the village, do I?”
Shisui takes that with a shrug, focusing less on Kurumi and more on the ground between them.
“Um.. did something happen? To your mom?”
“I don’t think so. She’s just away.”
“And your dad?”
“Away.”
“Oh, okay.. I’m glad.”
He peers up at Naka before quickly looking away. Her grandfather often gets such a reaction from children, so he probably doesn’t think it odd, but Kurumi does. She thought Shisui was only scared of grown women.
“Shisui, are you alright?”
He’s still pressed up against the wall, hands behind his back. He’s not afraid to meet her stare, at least, and offers a smile before pushing off. Yes, at least there’s that.
“Yup! Let’s talk some other time! You seem busy.”
“…Okay. Bye, Shisui.”
“Bye!”
She tugs on Naka’s hand as soon as Shisui speeds away, eager to get him home. For some reason, he always seems to have a headache in the village. He never acts aggravated at her over it, but Kurumi can tell that keeping his composure takes effort. Just something about the air, he says.
“Kurumi-chan, you don’t have to talk to rude boys like that. Jumping straight to questions without even a hello–”
“Shisui’s my friend, Grandpa. I don’t mind.”
“Hmph. That little runt didn’t even introduce himself to me. He’s no good for my princess.”
“Even though he’s an Uchiha?”
Naka grunts an affirmative. Kurumi huffs out a quiet laugh and tucks her head against his arm as they walk. It’s a wonder how he’s got such a high opinion of her.
“You know Grandpa, I read that they have machines for this that run on electricity in the capital. Will you get some?”
“Kurumi-chan must think I’m made of money.”
Kurumi has touched a lot of money in her grandfather’s place of business over the years. So maybe she does.
“If you did get some, you could clean more clothes and charge more. And it wouldn’t be so hard for you.”
“Hard? Your grandmother had to do this everyday since she was as old as you.”
“That sounds terrible.”
Naka shrugs, still brushing away at the stained clothes before him. Her father’s cousins do the same, chatting to each other the same as Kurumi and her grandfather. Kurumi isn’t expected to do anything—or, maybe she is, but Naka won’t let her help with any more than counting cash and writing thank you cards to new customers or reminders to loyal ones. Honestly, while repetitive, it beats being stuck at home.
“People paid well for her attentive service. Now all anyone wants is convenience–” Naka snaps repeatedly with a freed hand, “ ‘Now, I want it now, How long old man, I’ll pay extra if you would just hurry up!’ Look at them out there, watching my every move.”
Kurumi hums, sorting out coins to be exchanged for bigger bills. To rant about convenience as if he doesn’t eat take out every day.
“But then,” he concedes, “fabric used to be more precious than it is today. It’s a shame.”
Finished with the coins, Kurumi peeks out the service window for herself. Other Uchiha and frequent merchants know to find something better to do, but the new, impatient, or uninspired all sit around in the front lounge until their clothing is done. Alright, alright, these people paid extra for same-day. But still. There are a lot of hours in a day.
“Some places have bathhouses as well. Maybe that would help.”
“Some bathhouses do laundry. It’s not the same, sweetheart.”
Kurumi sticks her tongue out at him. Naka laughs and ruffles her hair. Maybe she’s reaching too high with all this machine stuff. How her grandfather tells it, Konoha didn’t even exist when he was her age, let alone its electric grid.
Mikio is the first to arrive back in Konoha. They hardly get done greeting each other before Kurumi is peeling away. Mikio lets her go after a quick explanation and mention of Shisui the chuunin’s name, but the look on his face is so miserable she almost feels sorry. But he can always come find her, if he wants—she’s made no progress in hiding her chakra from him in four frustrating years.
Shisui’s not really all that as a tutor.
The first place she goes searching for Shisui is his house. Of his frequented spots, it’s by far the least likely he’s to be found at, unless maybe tried in the middle of the night. However, it’s the easiest to get to, and a good option to at least cover.
In the rare event that anyone ever does answer the door, it’s either Shisui or his ornery but harmless father, Uchiha Kankuu. The house itself is traditional in style, but new in build. A wedding gift from Shisui’s late grandmother, if she remembers correctly from that single, hopelessly stilted time she got wrapped into keeping Kankuu company for tea. It’s at least triple the size of Kurumi’s home with her parents, although their yards are more comparable. The Uchiha District is only so big.
Today, the one who answers the door is not Shisui nor his father.
“Hello? Who is this?”
In the doorway must be Uchiha Nijimi. She’s a fairly tall, thin woman, with pale skin interrupted by the occasional mole, the largest residing on her forehead. A faint scar sits to the lower left of it, just above her perfectly plucked eyebrow. Her blue hair, a few shades lighter than Shizuha’s had been, is chin length and only vaguely reminiscent of her son’s curls in how the spikes swoop toward the sky. Upon seeing her in the flesh, it’s evident that Shisui largely takes after his father, like Kurumi does hers. Shisui’s eyes, however, are undeniably owed to his mother.
Nijimi tilts her head, considering. Muted distaste sluggishly overcomes the blank politeness she opened the door with.
“Let’s see.. unruly hair, big-boned with ears like a pika… You must be Baika’s spawn, yes?”
She’s probably the most beautiful woman Kurumi’s ever seen. And quite a bit more youthful than Kankuu. Somehow, her being the “youngest” one from Baika’s genin team never clicked until now.
“Hello. Yes, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you. I was wondering if Shisui was around?”
Nijimi chuffs at something she said, but her face never changes. She glances over her shoulder, into her dimly-lit house.
“His shoes aren’t here. He must be out.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Kurumi turns to leave, but a hand strictly clamps down on her high collar, halting her in her tracks. Before she can spin on her heel to react of her own accord, she’s tugged in that exact direction.
“Ah, you never gave me your name, girl. You’re my son’s little friend, right? If he comes around, how will I let him know you were looking for him?”
She’s never been grabbed by an adult like that in this life.
“..Sorry. My name is Kurumi.”
The tension on her neck disappears. Nijimi laughs again and smiles, the corners of her eyes folding in lines that leave no mark on her resting face.
“I know.” She takes a step back, beginning to slide the door shut. “Oh, and happy birthday.”
Oh dear. September is ending already. Is that why Mikio seemed so sad to let her run off?
“Thank you. I’ll be going now.”
The door closes.
Eventually, she finds Shisui on the roof of the pet supply shop, curled around the stray Miyu in his lap. He jerks his head in her direction as her feet make contact with tile, but he continues to pet the cat while staring at the street below.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Kurumi settles down next to him. One of Miyu’s ears flicks toward her, but otherwise pays her no mind. She’s like Shisui’s furry little twin. “I met your mom just now.”
Some kind of dying, grating sound comes from Shisui’s throat.
“Don’t worry, she didn’t embarrass you or anything. I didn’t stay long. Anyways, my father is back in the village, so I’m staying in the District again.. If you needed to find me.”
“That’s nice.”
Kurumi grunts and scoots closer. The one time she actually wants him to talk.. She eyes Miyu in Shisui’s lap with envy. The cat loves Baika, but Kurumi not so much. They’re at war over her chickens. Slowly, her fingers only just brush against Miyu’s whiskers before the hiss comes. Kurumi gives it up.
“Say, Shisui, when’s your birthday? You must have one, right?”
He finally looks at her, brows drawn together.
“It’s October 19th..?”
“I’m older, then.” She snorts, “If I’m seven and you’re six, you should call me senpai.”
Shisui’s nose scrunches in disgust.
“Ugh, not ever. You’re just like Kiyomu. And, if anything, I’m senpai.”
“Oh, if you say so.”
Miyu purrs louder under Shisui’s heavy hand.
“Are you going on a mission soon?”
“Yeah.. In two days.”
“Do you have any concerns? Or, are you just excited?”
Shisui shrugs, a little weirded out.
“I dunno. It’ll be easier with the Sharingan.”
“Ah, Sharingan? When did you get that?”
Shisui jolts.
“Oh. Um.. on my last mission.”
“How did that go? You were going to tell me but we missed each other, I think.”
“Yeah. Um, it was fine.”
“No it wasn’t.” Kurumi throws her arms behind her and leans back. “Or you wouldn’t be using those eyes.”
They’ve been spinning this whole time. A pair of single tomoe. Shisui stares down at Miyu, lips pursed. He takes a minute to respond, worrying something over in his mind. That’s fine. Kurumi’s already mentally given up her evening just to deal with him.
“You can be so blunt. Doesn’t that ever get you into trouble?”
“I never get in trouble.”
“..Must be nice.”
Kurumi hums in agreement. It’s a pretty neat feature.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened?”
Shisui pets Miyu in silence. Kurumi sighs. He’s been keeping her in suspense since the last time they saw each other. She doesn’t normally like to do this, but he’s left her no choice.
“My grandfather doesn’t really cook a lot, so that day you saw me at school he took me to get ramen back at the Compound. I tried those black mushrooms for the first time.. kikurage, I think. They look like ears. I guess I liked them. After that we went home and he showed me how to light my shuriken on fire. I struggled with the wind smothering the flames at first when I threw them, but after a while I think I did decently. I guess I still have to get better at adjusting my throw to the ambient forces.. Oh! I don’t know if you have a sweet tooth, but there’s a new patisserie near the Academy. I saw a lot of fudge and stuff, so it must be expensive… But I get the feeling that the war will be ending soon. Maybe we’ll be able to afford it then.”
“…Ending?”
“Well, no war lasts forever.”
“But– How.. Shinobi still don’t get along. So how can the war end?”
“I’m sure there’ll be another.” She nudges his shoulder with her own, earning a disgruntled meow from Miyu, “Your job is safe.”
“That’s not..”
“No, it is.”
Shisui finally stops petting Miyu, although it's just so he can squish her paws between his restless fingers.
“The work isn’t– On my last mission.. It wasn’t supposed to.. There was one night-” Shisui stops completely and takes a deep breath. He turns to Kurumi as if for permission, and she nods, giving it. “So… There was one night where it was pitch black outside, ‘cuz the moon had set really early. And there was a fog layer covering the stars. Nobody was supposed to be there. We were.. with all the humidity and the smell.. we were supposed to be alone. But me and Kiyomu were still taking watch, and we got kind of loud about, about.. I don’t even remember, but so– ‘Shut up!’ yells Sensei.”
The impression wracks through Shisui’s entire body. The voice of a grown man isn’t really supposed to come out of a little kid like him.
“He started snoring right after that. We quieted down and I was just listening to everyone breathing. I couldn’t see too good because I was sweating like crazy and it kept getting in my eyes, but I heard something. You know, away. I hear Kiyomu get up to check it out. He.. first, something gets on my arm. It’s so hot, like when you spill tea on yourself, but it’s got this smell. And.. Well, I hear him choking and I– I don’t know why. I’ve never frozen like that. I can hear Shinku-sensei snoring louder than Kiyomu is choking. Even Saizō-san doesn’t wake up from the noise. I think..” Shisui’s tomoe spin faster, lost in memory. “I think about if I just stay still, and don’t make a sound, what would happen? He probably doesn’t even know I’m there. But Kiyomu makes his flint spark and our eyes meet. The man in the dark sees me too; they’re not even two yards away. And it’s- He steps towards me with Kiyomu still in his arms, and after that I could see everything, like the sun came up hours early.”
“You were scared?”
“No, I–” He squeezes Miyu’s paw too tightly, and she jumps out of his lap. Two feet away, she starts licking a place only a cat would. “…Yeah. Yeah, I was. Saizō-san is about to be evaluated for jounin, you know? But he didn’t wake up. Shinku-sensei didn’t either. It was just me and Kiyomu, and that man. They only woke up after I put the man in the mud and Kiyomu started yelling at them.”
“What did you do to him?”
Shisui shrugs, like it's the simplest thing in the world.
“Genjutsu.”
Kurumi has to turn her head away in case she’s smiling.
“Well, it’s understandable that you were scared. I’m just glad you had the skill to protect yourself, because–”
Itachi is four.
“–you’re my friend.”
Blindly, she reaches out for his hand. In one try, she envelops his tiny hand with her marginally less tiny one and waits for the returning squeeze. It comes.
Shisui sniffs.
“I was.. I guess– Hey, Kurumi, you don’t tell anyone about what I tell you, right?”
Kurumi eyes him. Stupid ninja. Why all the suspicion?
“Who would I even tell?”
“Not your mom or your dad or your grandpa..? Nobody, right?”
“That’s right.”
Shisui nods tightly to himself. He starts a few times before he can get the words out.
“…I guess I was really thinking, ‘What am I doing here?’ I felt so.. out of place. Not that I didn’t deserve to be there, or that I didn’t have the skill—I’ve fought grown shinobi like that before. I can kill them, it isn’t hard. But the face he was making was exactly the same as Kiyomu’s. I just never thought….” Shisui groans, unable to express himself with the accuracy she knows he’d prefer, and stares down at their locked hands, beginning to fiddle with her fingers instead. Alright, that's a bit excessive. “If what you say is right and the war ends soon.. I’ll be glad.”
Kurumi squeezes his hand before letting go. How can a human have so many sweat glands in just their palm?
“It’ll end.”
Shisui’s ensuing expression is a little too grateful. Pointed at her and utterly pathetic.
“If you have the Sharingan now, does that mean you can finally learn kanji? Maybe after the war you can go back to school.”
He drives his elbow into her side, rolling his eyes.
They sit there for an hour, then maybe two, chatting about lighter things. Miyu resettles into Shisui’s lap and even lets Kurumi get one pet in before she has to go home for dinner. Shisui, of course, stays on the roof.
“Happy Birthday!!”
They all made it in time, Baika and Mikio and Naka. By some standards, it’s not a very big family, but that suits Kurumi just fine.
“Thanks, everyone.”
“My love, you always match my pace so well, but if we need to slow down you can just say, okay?”
“Okay? I will?”
Baika smiles down at her, but it comes off as more of a smirk.
“It’s just, watching your little legs try to keep up with mine.. It’s cute! It’s totally cute, Kurumin, but I feel a little bad.”
Kurumi sighs, feeling attacked from two sides. She looms an awkward half-head over most other kids her age, sometimes less and occasionally more, but her mother seems to think she’s the size of a duckling.
“I feel fine. Thanks, though.”
Baika pulls Kurumi into her side, pinching across her cheek awkwardly to find her earlobe to fiddle with. That has remained her favorite thing to do for all of Kurumi’s short life, even more than kisses on baby feet and raspberries on the tummy. Kurumi lets herself be manhandled, even in the busy streets outside of the Uchiha District. Baika knows to back off after a few seconds, and even so, Kurumi couldn’t really care if anyone sees. She chooses to believe that any wayward stare is borne from envy rather than scorn, and if she’s learned anything about this world, that’s probably true.
She wonders if that will change after the Kyuubi attack. The Uchiha are to be partially blamed by the public, are they not? God, that’s going to make getting to her grandfather’s house so much more difficult. Or– Will there be any need to go from home to home? The District is going to be destroyed, after all. The thought is jarring, for some reason. Everyone dying, everything changing—it’s never far from her mind. It’s inevitable. It will happen. Just.. the first act being so soon? Baika and Mikio are nobody important, so she has no way of knowing if they’ll survive that night. Their house too, along with its three orange trees and the five chickens in the back.. It’s impossible to know.
Kurumi turns her head deeper into Baika’s side, ignoring the way her mother’s breath hitches in surprise. She inhales deeply before detaching, feeling more at ease. Her mother always smells nice.
Maybe, in another life–
“Oh- I’m sorry, love, I’m needed.”
Kurumi didn’t hear a hawk, so she searches for the smaller bird that always signals her mother deserting her. Sure enough, in one of the shops’ rain gutters hops that little brown bird. Ugh. And they just bought all this stuff.
“Um..” Baika scours the crowd for a familiar face. Easier said than done once out of the Uchiha District. Kurumi sighs and resigns herself to helping her find the nearest KMPF officer to act as an escort. It’s a wasted effort—nobody but her parents and grandfather seem to care about children going unsupervised, and anyone unwittingly tasked to the job immediately sends her on her way once Baika is out of sight. “Ah! Nijimin– er, Nijimi! Nijimi!”
Kurumi’s interest is immediately piqued by their clansman twisting her foot in the dirt of the street. Baika isn’t one to refrain from speaking harshly about others in private, and Shisui’s mother is no exception. Before they ever met, Kurumi knew Nijimi as rude, self-centered, and oblivious to personal space. But she caught that nickname slipping through just now—maybe the ill-will between them has been exaggerated? And her mother is possibly about to trust Nijimi with her well-being. That’s a little significant.
“What the fuck are you yelling for, woman? I’m right here.”
Ah. That settles it. Shisui’s kicked puppy dog personality must be unique to him.
“You stupid– Don’t swear in front of my baby!”
Hands in her pockets, Nijimi brings her beeline to a stop almost foot to foot with Baika, packing Kurumi in between them. Her appearance shouldn’t inspire the same looming feeling from the first time they met—despite coming in only two inches or so shorter than Baika, Nijimi seems incredibly slight in comparison, swallowed up by her oversized jacket. Her hair is sweaty, though her face must have been wiped dry, and a strong soot smell emanates from her clothes, unwashed—yet, there’s something about her.
“Oh please, I’m sure she’s heard worse at school.” Actually, she hasn’t. “What do you want?”
Baika takes a deep breath, not bothering to hide her eyeroll from Kurumi. She bends over, smiling apologetically, fretting with a slightly curly wisp of hair clinging to the back of Kurumi’s neck.
“You know Nijimi, don’t you? My old teammate? Your dad told me when he felt you two meet,” a peek at Nijimi reveals her vaguely sickened expression. Yay surveillance. “And she’s Shisui-kun’s mother. She’s a little rough around the edges, but she’s alright, yeah?”
“Sure.” Kurumi shrugs. She couldn’t possibly have much of an opinion yet, her friend’s mother or not.
Curiously, Nijimi averts her eyes from either of them to the ground, taking a hand out of her pocket to scratch her opposite arm in a very Shisui manner. For someone so stoic and cold-looking, her body language is incredibly obvious. Kurumi suddenly wonders how much younger than Baika she is.
Baika nods, smile remaining as she looks at Nijimi, but a little uneasy around the edges.
“So– Nijimin, I’ve been summoned but I need someone to take Kurumi-chan home with our shopping and then take her to her grandfather’s house. Can you? She’s a very smart girl, she can show you the way, but if you’re–”
“Yeah, whatever. Give me that.” Nijimi slips her boney fingers into the loops of Baika’s bags with no particular care of their hands getting tangled together. “Doesn’t your husband ever go shopping before you come home? Useless.”
“Mikio’s great, just sometimes– Oh, I don’t have time for this!” Baika swoops down to kiss Kurumi’s head in the same breath she leaps to the rooftops. “Bye sweetheart! Be good for Nijimi-san! And be good to my kid, you!”
And she’s gone. Kurumi feels oddly disappointed. Ever since Kannabi Bridge was destroyed, Baika and Mikio have both been enjoying longer stretches at home. A direct summons isn’t usually a good sign.. But maybe all that Sanbi stuff just happened? Shisui will be glad to know the war really is on its last legs.
As soon as Baika is out of sight, Nijimi shoves the bags she snatched from her into Kurumi’s chest.
“Here. I’m not a pack mule.” She digs in her pocket to produce a pack of cigarettes. So that’s what she was burying in the dirt earlier. After lighting one up, she jerks her head from Kurumi to the street. “Let’s go.”
How unpleasant.
It’s true that Kurumi doesn’t interact with many canon characters, or really any beyond Shisui, but that’s how she likes it. In the background, her life skirts much of the scrutiny from the powers that be, although she’s in no way unlooked-after. It’s just.. weird, doing something so mundane with Shisui’s mother simply by chance. Even though Nijimi is nowhere to be found as far as her memory of this world extends, she feels like she should have known her. Someone like this—caustic and self-assured during even a great war—should have been important.
When they reach home, Nijimi takes great interest in inspecting their photo wall instead of helping Kurumi put the groceries away. She also ignores Kurumi’s suggestion to put out her third cigarette of the day while indoors, citing some ninja code about respecting commanders. Well, Kurumi isn’t even a genin, but Nijimi says children have to do what adults tell them to do and not the other way around, or else infants would be Hokage and adults would be swaddled in cradles. Really, once she gets going, she’s almost as chatty as Shisui.
“Does your dad always do that? Follow my chakra around?” Nijimi taps one of Baika and Mikio’s wedding photos. “What a creep.”
“No, he just watches over me when I’m out. And.. you’re kind of hard to miss.”
Nijimi concedes with a grunt. Ah, so she must already be aware.
Kurumi is sure of it now—it had eluded her before because she’d never experienced it in either of her lives. What’s so piercing about Nijimi is not some misplaced sense of intimidation, not her height or her looks or her smell, but another sensation entirely. Somehow, even someone untrained like Kurumi can tell that her chakra is huge and oppressive and so, so Uchiha. Baika is a technical rank above her, but even she doesn’t have that kind of presence.
Is it the kind of power that will grow in Shisui and Itachi? It’s unbelievable. The Shisui she knows is small and not quite weak, but.. raw. Doughy and unformed. Kurumi blinks through the image that conjures, of a cookie batter Shisui, and suddenly comes back to her body, arm halfway in the fridge on autopilot. She shakes her head, thinking still.
Aww. He’s going to grow up and leave her behind.
Well.
Until.
A hand lands on her head. Kurumi looks up at Nijimi. She isn’t outright smiling, but there’s something soft about her face even with the cigarette tucked into the corner of her mouth. Despite her earlier protests, Kurumi finds that she does like the smell of it.
“You know, I always wished Shisui was a girl.”
Kurumi stops herself from cheekily pointing out that there’s still time. She’s not really sure what Konoha’s general opinion is on that yet, let alone the Uchiha. Besides, even if each day feels like a year, there isn’t really time. Not for him.
“Where’s your bathroom? I gotta shit.”
“Oh, it’s down the hall to your–” She’s already gone. “–left. Hm.”
Nijimi is kind of a weirdo. Way back when she and Shisui used to share a class, Kurumi always got the impression that he missed his mother deeply whenever she was away. Now, though, he wants nothing to do with her and even cowers at her very mention. There has to be something there. Is it just her cussing and general bad mood? Is it bad habits other than smoking? Corporal punishment? A combination of those? Not one of these options would come as a shock from any parent, really. Not here. It’s not lost on her that in such a messed up world, Kurumi was the one given to such a rare, patient and attentive family.
What a waste.
Kurumi sighs and closes the full fridge. She should tell Taiko and Inabi across the street that they’re free to it—heaven knows Kurumi and her grandfather won’t be back to cook anything, and there’s no telling how long her mother and father will be gone for. She grabs a pen and notepad to stick to the fridge, indicating as much. As always, she reminds them that if anything goes bad, they can feed it to the chickens. The boys never remember on their own, she’s tested it. Satisfied with her work, Kurumi busies herself with folding the empty bags next. But all this can only take so long.. She’s been waiting for Nijimi to finish in the bathroom forever. Ugh. Hopefully her cigarette will cover up the smell.
Eventually, Kurumi gets tired of waiting and knocks on the bathroom door herself.
“Miss?”
“...Yes?”
She frowns. The response is very muffled. Almost like.. Kurumi eyes the door to her parents’ room. Oh, what the hell. She’s not the one who gave Nijimi permission to come into their home. Baika will just have to deal with this when she gets back. Kurumi turns back to the bathroom, pretending someone is in there.
“I’m just going to let the boys across the street know I’ll be gone for a while so they can take care of the chickens. When you’re done, we can go to the Compound. I’m all finished out here.”
“Sounds great!”
Nijimi is waiting for her outside by the time Kurumi is done leaving a note on the boys’ dinner table. Just by looking at her, Kurumi can’t tell if she had a sticky-finger attack in her parents’ bedroom, but she is a tokubetsu jounin. Anything’s possible.. Kurumi stares for a moment more before shrugging. Still not her problem. As she crosses the street to Nijimi, it occurs to her that she could have simply left out the boys’ back door and ditched the woman completely. Even if Naka would have something choice to say to her mother about allowing his only grandchild to arrive on his doorstep alone. As if she’s a kitten in a wet box. Whatever. Nijimi hasn’t actually done or said anything weird to Kurumi herself. It’s fine.
Nijimi’s cigarette is on its last legs, and indeed she spits it out in the dirt, twisting it under her foot. She makes no move to pick it up, letting it sit shriveled between them as some kind of weird claim. Rough around the edges, alright.
“Did you like our fish-shaped soap dispenser? I picked it out last year.”
That’s a lie. It’s actually a rooster. But Nijimi proves to be a master at such games.
“Dunno. I didn’t wash my hands.”
“..Oh.”
She shrugs, “I said the nembutsu after, so it’s fine.”
Kurumi is certain that’s not how that works. It might even be heresy.
What a pest.
They begin their walk in silence. Or, relative silence—Nijimi starts huffing only halfway through. Yes, Kurumi did just witness her chase down three cigarettes, and yes, she seemed to have just gotten back from a mission outside of the village, but.. isn’t this basically an elite shinobi? Not to mention she made Kurumi carry everything just then. Shouldn’t her endurance be better? Kurumi eyes her warily, subtly slowing her pace. Even Shisui isn’t that pale.. Is she sick? Come to think of it, she can’t remember if he’s supposed to become an orphan at some point.
It would fit. He’s much more suited to the wet kitten aesthetic than Kurumi.
“Miss, you really don’t have to walk me the whole way.. I’m the same age as your son. I’ll be fine if you want to go home and rest.”
Nijimi immediately swats her shoulder, hard.
“Your mother asked me to walk you so we’re walking, damnit.”
Without really thinking it over, Kurumi shoves her back. It’s completely inappropriate behavior from a child towards an adult, but in her defense, she wasn’t expecting Nijimi to actually fall to the ground. So maybe Shisui was on to something about him and his mother being matched in ability.
“Don’t touch me.”
Nijimi’s wide-eyed expression splits into an unnatural grin. She laughs and laughs. They’re out of the commercial areas, but what few people are milling about all stop to look at the cause of the noise. The sound makes Kurumi’s skin crawl, so similar to her friend. Nijimi keeps laughing until she’s wheezing, then laughs all the way through it until she’s coughing, and she laughs through that, too. What the hell is so funny? Finally, Nijimi’s laughter sputters to an end and she wipes a tear from her eye, still breathless, still sprawled on her scrawny ass in the middle of the street.
“You see? I wish Shisui was a girl.”
Kurumi doesn’t see. What did Shisui ever miss about this woman? What does Baika?
“Oh, there’s that look I always get.”
As if it were possible not to give to her.
Nijimi somehow manages to condescend from the dirt, smile as placating as it is wicked, “It’s okay that you don’t get it.”
Kurumi has never really gotten angry in this life before now. Nothing ever seemed worth the effort, but it crawls over her without permission. She forgot how it felt, how her palms get warm and sweaty from how tightly she clenches her fists, how her head starts aching from the sound of her own heartbeat pounding at her temple. Or maybe she never knew, however that works. There’s just something about Nijimi that gets under her skin.
“I don’t want you to walk me anymore.”
“Didn’t you hear me, girl? What your mother wants, she’ll get.”
“She thinks you’re weird. I don’t like you either.” Kurumi starts backing away, hyperaware of that terrifying chakra and unsure what she can actually do if Nijimi keeps insisting. As much as it grates on her, her family and Shisui are right—she’s just a kid, and she’s only a student. Nijimi’s body might be frail, but it’s very possibly the only thing holding her back from an elite status among killers. “So just leave me alone.”
Nijimi defies expectations. Instead of posturing further, she has the audacity to let her lower lip wobble. It’s so clearly fake on her otherwise expressionless face that Kurumi nearly barks out a laugh. She even tries out those wide eyes Shisui has, as if expecting a child to take pity on her. The sight is so bizarre that Kurumi actually hesitates for a moment, falling back on the urge buried inside her to reach out and apologize, to make it better, but she swallows the impulse down with practiced ease. She doesn’t have to be that kind of person anymore.
Kurumi turns heel and runs.
Nijimi doesn’t try to stop her this time, doesn’t say a thing, but Kurumi can feel those eyes on her almost like a physical itch. She can’t shrug the feeling until she’s well beyond Konoha’s southern gate, until she can hear Naka River coming parallel to the path home.