Sky on Fire: Slow Burn - Chapter 8
Title: Slow Burn
Chapter: 08 Missteps
Author/Artist: Skylar Inari
Pairing: Yamanaka Ino/Nara Shikamaru
Theme: 42 - Panic Button
Word Count: 8507
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. AU immediately after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc. Part 8 of ? Unbeta’d.
It was the worst thing ever, she decided, in the midst of having to scrub the floors, to have to wait around and hope that no one noticed that you were, in fact, waiting for someone.
Ino spent the rest of the time while preparing for the banquet in quite a state. She hid it though, with light words and smiles that made the others grin and she was glad enough to be given leave an hour before the dinner was to start. It was deemed, by Hoshi-sama, that more senior maidservants would be the ones to handle the dressing of little Aiko. With that permission, she bowed, accepted the hug from Aiko-sama with a grin that she didn’t feel, and fled the banquet hall.
She immediately hurried to her room, glad for the respite, for the time in relative privacy so that she didn’t have to keep the smile on her face quite so bright. For a moment Ino flung herself down on her bed and closed her eyes. Her head was reeling with thoughts and worries. Ino had given herself a headache keeping her composure spotlessly for the entire morning, and Megumi-san wasn’t even back yet.
Where was she?
Had something gone wrong? She worried for a moment before forcibly dismissing the idea. It was far too early to start wondering about something so dire.
Ino, knowing that though she’d been dismissed, couldn’t just hang around her room and do nothing for hours on end--no matter how much she wanted to, just to help give herself time to put things into perspective--forced herself off the bed and considered her options.
She had realized, about half an hour after getting back to the banquet hall that she hadn’t checked both of the bags. Sloppy, she thought reprovingly. That could’ve been done better, but she’d panicked at the thought of Otogakure.
A part of her, a rather large part of her it had to be admitted, wanted nothing better than to go and scope out the room again--and make sure that she hadn’t mistaken what she’d seen. That it hadn’t been something she’d made up.
But that was a fools’ game and Ino knew that. She had seen the hitae-ite and it hadn’t been a mistake. There was no misunderstanding the sight of a musical note precisely engraved on the cold metal.
The only thing that remained was what she was to do about it. There… wasn’t a whole lot that she could do really.
In an attempt to put it out of her thoughts until Megumi-san got back from her trip out--no doubt, Ino realized, that the ‘rain’ had delayed her. Ino smirked faintly as she started tidying up the small room that the two of them were sharing for the duration of their employment. Of course the rain wouldn’t any of shinobi, and definitely not one of Megumi-san’s caliber. Lies within lies.
Ino felt a bit of a twinge at that thought. A part of her would’ve liked to be able to go and see them, her team, but she knew better than that. She knew better than to even make noises about wanting to go.
It’d be too suspicious if she were seen. Megumi could go places that Junko couldn’t and that was that.
And always one of them had to remain on-site to keep an eye out so that nothing escaped their notice.
It wasn’t long after she’d finished tidying the room, and was just setting the water to boil to make tea, waiting rather impatiently for it, it must be admitted, while getting started on the sewing work she’d acquired after having tentatively inquired about some work she might do while the rest of the household was more engrossed with the banquet-when she heard familiar footfalls coming down the hallway.
Megumi-san was back. There was no mistaking who it could be, and no reason as of yet to worry (more than basic prudence, of course) about such a mistake, and it was proven a moment later by the grinning and soaking wet figure of her ‘sister’ as she appeared, sliding open the paper door and stepping inside the rooms they shared.
Ino leapt to her feet, all solicitous sibling, and quickly but efficiently got Megumi-san out of her wet things and into a warm, if worn, robe and presented her with a cup of tea. That earned her a smile of approval and Ino glowed a bit, even if it was possibly all just a smile for the act. Did it matter, really? It was still a smile for her.
All the while though, as she went about fussing over her ‘sister’ making sure that she was warm enough, and that the tea was to her liking, Ino chattered brightly about the preparations that had been going on, how much more work there still was to do before they could even dream of having guests over and that, apparently, more shinobi were to come for the banquet--wasn’t that exciting? It was certainly interesting.
“And what,” Ino said severely, toweling off Megumi-san’s hair as she spoke, “were you thinking staying out in the rain for so long? Do you want to get sick or something, Onee-sama? Ino had her hands make a few simple gestures, brushing up against Megumi-san’s scalp, relaying a silent: I need to talk to you.
“I only did what I was told, Junko-chan. And I’m sure you’ll not allow an illness anywhere near me,” Megumi said, and followed it with the quick inwards dip of her right little finger and then a raise of her eyebrows. Wait.
She needed to report, and she needed to report quickly. Ino expressed the urgency of that in the way she shrugged, pretending to fight off a shiver while turning to get a brush from the table, and beginning to run it through Megumi-san’s hair. “Perhaps a bath?” Ino suggested, “To make sure a chill doesn’t take hold.”
“Wait however long until the banquet is in session,” Megumi-san said, after considering the suggestion for a few moments. ”It’ll do no good to attempt to make it to the baths while the halls are so busy.”
Ino had to be content with that. Megumi-san had gotten her message, and for sure, she was right, it’d be better to wait until people where mostly otherwise occupied. Even if it grated on her nerves.
“Not so long a wait,” she said, with a faint smile, “less than half an hour even. People should be entering the hall already, except for those who deign to be fashionably late.”
Which was something to be glad of. She’d be patient because Megumi-san had ordered it, but that did not mean she had to like it. At all. And this… wasn’t something that should be put off for long. “Would you like me to brush out your hair, Onee-sama?”
When in doubt, stick with the character you were given. Ino could do that.
“If you would,” was the calm, and Ino imagined, approving response. She was glad of the task, however simple, to focus her energy on and pretend that everything was alright.
It wasn’t until after she’d finished with Megumi-san’s hair and, upon request, went and fetched, returning in short order, with two bowls of rice and vegetables--it seemed that she hadn’t been kidding about being hungry--that Megumi raised her eyebrows expectantly at Ino, and Ino knew she could speak freely.
Ino made herself sit calmly, her back straight and kept her voice level. Calm and cool. While she wanted to just spill the whole story out in one jumbled rush of words… Ino had the training, if not the experience-Asuma-sensei had beaten this sort of thing into her head, and done it well-that she knew in order to give a properly coherent report (and more importantly, a useful one) that she had to know how to marshal her thoughts carefully and keep track of how she wanted to say it. All of it.
She told of the chance to explore. The hitae-ite. How nothing else had seemed out of place, though she hadn’t dared to stick around and check out the bags belonging to the other shinobi. Ino spoke of how she’d put it back exactly how she had found it and then spent the rest of the day waiting, just waiting, for this moment while acting as normal as she could about everything.
When she was finished, Ino settled back, feeling relieved that she’d finally been able to report about what had been happening while Megumi-san had been gone. That was important.
“And you’re certain that no one suspects a thing?” Megumi asked slowly, turning her teacup in her hands.
Ino nodded, but quickly added, “Not one hundred percent certain of course,” that’d just be foolhardy, assuming that, “but as sure as I can be about it. I was careful.”
“I’m sure you were,” and Ino couldn’t help but preen a little under the approval of implicit in those words, “I’ll do some investigating on my own.”
“Yes, Onee-sama.”
She nodded. That was what she’d expected--no Genin would be allowed properly to go out and poke their nose into affairs so dangerous.
“What shall I do for now then?” Ino asked, tucking her brown dyed hair behind on ear.
“For now, keep acting as you have been. Don’t go out of your way to see them-but don’t try to avoid them either, because they will notice that since you never did it before. And tell me if you see anything else.”
“Yes, Onee-sama.”
--
Sakura beamed and smoothed down the front of her apron as her latest customers left the flower shop cradling twin bouquets in their arms. A quick look around the shop showed that for the moment there was no one who needed her assistance and her smile broadened. Slipping behind the pale wood counter at the back she ducked quickly into the back room and took a sip of her juice before going back up front.
Yamanaka Flowers wasn’t a place Sakura had ever considered working at, even part time. For one thing, Ino worked there often when she wasn’t training (though her current schedule meant that Ino was only working maybe two short shifts a week) and Sakura had long ago decided that working with Ino would only be hazardous to the health of both of them. Friends, yes. Co-workers outside of the both of them being ninja?
No. Definitely not a good idea.
The shop was nice though. Wide aisles which gave the flowers room so they didn’t look crowded and crushed while letting the customers have enough space to maneuver without fear of knocking things over. The flooring was hard dark wood and the walls were painted a very pale yellow. Wide windows kept the place from being too enclosed.
She’d come up with the idea of working at the shop when Yamanaka Mui-san had been firm about her refusal of any other payment, and Sakura had been equally determined to find some way pay the Yamanaka’s back for their kindness in letting her stay.
Paying her way, as it were. She didn’t want to be beholden to anyone a single moment longer than she had to. If there’d been anyway that she could afford it-or even dream of being able to afford it-Sakura would’ve attempted living on her own on just her Genin salary.
Even with the fact that she could, technically (and she was sure he wouldn’t mind) stay at Naruto’s place, Sakura knew that it’d be hard going for her to manage it as it was. How did Naruto do it, she wondered idly. Maybe she’d ask him in her next letter out.
“Daydreaming?” Mui-san asked, sounding quietly amused.
Sakura flushed. Here she was, trying to make up for the fact that she was, essentially, being a free-loader and…
“Don’t worry about it,” she was told, as Mui-san brushed past her to the counter. “It’s quiet today. A few moments won’t hurt anyone, not even yourself.”
“Mui-san,” Sakura started, turning to look at the woman, “I wanted to -“
“If you’re apologizing for it, I don’t want to hear it Sakura-chan.” Mui-san told her firmly with a faint smile lighting up her face. Looking at Mui-san was a bit like looking at Ino and wondering if this was what she might look like in twenty years or so.
Of course, Sakura had to admit, Ino took a great deal after both her parents and really it was hard to tell what would happen in however many years. And, she knew, Ino would say that she looked only like herself thank-you-very-much.
She blushed slightly. “I still feel that I should be-“
“Don’t worry about it,” Mui-san said, with calm insistence. “You’re an excellent bit of help with Ino-chan so busy with other work these days. We’ve been a bit short-staffed.”
Which was not precisely a complaint, Sakura knew. Mui-san, as a former kunoichi, knew better than to underestimate the importance of training while you could. It was a lesson that Sakura had learned. Only fools didn’t bother to train past their limits. She’d been a fool once, but no more.
“And besides that,” the blonde-haired woman continued, “as you’re Ino’s friend it was not as if we could do anything else. I hate to think of my daughter’s reaction to hearing that we’d turned her best friend away.”
Sakura found, almost to her dismay, that she was starting to smile. “She’s not so bad.”
“Not so bad,” Mui-san laughed lightly, “Ah, she’s got a good friend in you. I know my daughter and yes, she can be that bad. Worse than that even. Much like her father. Two of them, both cut from the same cloth.”
And proud of it, Sakura knew. No question about that.
She wondered, a bit, at what it’d be like to now have someone who’d be on her side no matter what and support her the way that Ino’s family did.
Some of her feelings must have showed on her face because Mui-san’s face became sympathetic, but not pitying, and her next words were, “Ah well, civilians, they don’t understand. I know that quite well. Has Ino told you much about that?”
Sakura paused and then shook her head, pink hair flying loose around her head. “I’ve only heard the very basics from Ino,” she admitted. “Just that you didn’t get along with your family and that you were glad to be parted from them.”
Mui-san smiled faintly. “Not exactly the truth, but I cannot blame by daughter for wanting to spare me the indignity of going into detail about it all.”
Sakura supposed, then, that she couldn’t blame Ino for not telling her. After all, it wasn’t as if any of this was any of her business really. “I... I don’t mean to pry or anything,” she said quickly. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“Sakura-chan,” Mui-san said, with a smile that crinkled the skin around her eyes. “I’m the one that brought it up. There are no apologies needed.”
She nodded mutely.
“Would you like to hear it then? At least,” Mui-san amended. “At least a little bit of wisdom that I feel you sorely need to hear, though I doubt you’ll care for it. It’s not a very happy story, though it turns out, in the end, good enough for me. “
“I’d like that, Mui-san,” Sakura said quietly, smoothing her apron down again, and hoping that she’d live up to whatever it was that Mui-san saw in her. There were days when Sakura didn’t think she could.
“That I managed to get into the Academy was purely through sheer stubborn determination as my parents disapproved of the idea from the beginning. They gave in eventually though, knowing as I do, that most drop-outs are in the first two years of the Academy--young enough then that they would’ve been able to put me into a civilian school once the ‘phase’ wore off and I had realized how dangerous a job it was that I wanted.”
Sakura tucked a piece of her hair behind one hear and listened intently to what Mui-san was saying.
“Of course,” Mui-san said. “I didn’t change my mind. I wasn’t top of my class, but I wasn’t anywhere near the bottom either. My skills were quite firmly in the middle range of it all, and it was generally speculated that I’d be a fine Chuunin, a career Chuunin, but that it was unlikely that I’d ever make Jounin.” She paused, lips twisting slightly. “Or, honestly, that it was unlikely that I’d ever really want to make Jounin.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to?” Sakura asked, startled. “Doesn’t everyone want to go up in ranks?”
“Ah,” Mui-san said, looking faintly amused, “no. It’s another thing that civilian-born shinobi find out eventually, if they don’t die first. Most of your classmates-or at least, most of the ones that you graduated with in fact, will no doubt go on to become solid Chuunin at the very least and specialize in a field. Some, and only some, will go further than that.”
“Then why not--“
“Because they don’t have the heart for it,” Mui-san explained. “They don’t have the steel underneath it to keep going, to care so deeply that they don’t care.”
Sakura felt like she was speaking another language. “What does that mean exactly, Mui-san?”
“It means everything,” Mui-san said firmly. “There’s a certain… coldness of spirit that makes for a good Jounin. My husband has it.”
A pause. Sakura stared wide-eyed at Mui-san.
“I can see it in my daughter already. All that she needs is the skill. She’s got the heart.” Mui-san looked at Sakura. “So do you, I believe. Every couple of years or so you get a class like yours-cold-hearted and yet as passionate as the sun.”
“Why would that…” Sakura shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense…”
“It does, I assure you,” Mui-san said. “Because to be a good Jounin, and not just have the skills of one, you must be able to close your heart to suffering. You’ve got to be able to care so deeply and yet tread the fine line of not caring at all. Or you’ll go mad.”
“How does that relate to you…?”
Mui-san shook her head. “I didn’t have it. That heart of fire. I made Chuunin, eventually-after living on first with my sensei and then on my own, as my parents kicked me out the day I graduated from the Academy-but that heart, that sense of feeling, never developed. Did you know that? You can’t learn that. You’ve got to be born with it. The few who make it to Jounin without that heart are the ones that die quickly. My sensei told me, way back when I was just a Genin that I’d best not even to try for Jounin. Do you know why?”
She shook her head again.
“Because I care too much,” Mui-san said simply. “I cared so much so that when my sensei went down, rather than keep fighting, accomplish the mission, I went and tried to avenge him. I messed up because in that moment I wasn’t thinking like a shinobi-I was thinking like a civilian. I was lucky to make it out with my life though, though I paid for my foolishness and was injured badly enough that they never could put me back on active duty.”
“A shinobi’s heart must be both soft as silk and cold as steel all that the same time, Sakura-chan. You must have the strength of will to both kill people, and to save them. Jounin are those that can walk the line above that wavering pit and do it so well that we never notice just how much the rope wobbles when they move. You’re still learning,” she sighed.
“Go. You’ve got the rest of the day off. Think about what I said.”
Sakura fled.
--
Daring. Nerve. Innovation.
She could work with that. Megumi tugged her hair back, watching as Ino left the room, and considered what she’d been told.
Otogakure. Here. That was… well, that was unexpected. So close to the border of Iwa’s jurisdiction. She didn’t doubt Ino, though she’d have to confirm it with her own eyes to be able to report it. There was utterly no possibility of her being able to simply include that in her report as a fact. Not when the information had come from a Genin.
But she would definitely include, should it prove true or not, what Ino had done of her own initiative. Good. Quick thinking, though perhaps it could’ve been quicker and remembered to check the bags of the other shinobi for an alternate hitae-ite, but well and good. She could not fault Ino-kun, only a Genin after all, for being not daring enough to stick around longer than she had.
Especially with the chance of them coming back at any moment and coupled with the discovery the other hitae-ite…
Alright. Megumi considered her options, already moving, tugging her robe back up, and cinching it tight about her waist. Coiling her hair on top her head, she went and got the basket they shared for bathing.
The Jounin, which they had to be though they claimed only Chuunin rank, had rooms that were along the route she’d have to take to head for the baths. And a bath would do her good, besides. The rain might not have slowed her down, but it could still make her ill if she wasn’t careful. Reasoning enough to kill two birds with one stone.
Slipping out of the room, leaving a quick note for ‘Junko-chan’ that she’d gone to the baths, Megumi paced evenly down the halls. Calm confidence, and a rueful smile for those few servants she came across. Hoshi-sama’s orders, she explained when they asked, had sent her outside for hours. They nodded, and shooed her onwards, no need for further explanations.
The truth, she’d told Ino-kun as they’d traveled here, can go a long way. Don’t lie unless you need to.
People saw what they wanted to see, what they expected to see. They saw a girl heading for the baths; they assumed you really were just a girl heading for the baths.
Reaching the hallway, with the linen closet, and the rooms she needed to inspect, Megumi deviated from her neat route long enough to set her basket down, in the closet, so that no one would trip over it, before sliding carefully across the hall. The lack of chakra from inside the room said it was empty, as she’d suspected, since the Chuunin would need to be present for the entirety of the banquet, as they were the Daimyo’s bodyguards no matter what other agendas they might have.
It did not, however, rule out the idea that one of them might be using a Bunshin. Caution, therefore, was essential. Always was really.
The room was just as it had been described, down to the bags and the risqué poetry on the desk. As far as she could tell neither shinobi had entered the room since Ino-kun had left it. Quickly then, before she got caught, Megumi went first for the bag that Ino-kun had mentioned going through.
In short order, she’d confirmed the presence of the Otogakure hitae-ite. It looked new though, almost unused… perhaps they were missing-nin that had just recently been recruited? Megumi frowned slightly. If they’d been missing-nin she would’ve recognized them.
Neither of them were in the Bingo Book though which…
Was a bad sign.
Checking the bag again to make sure she hadn’t missed anything (she hadn’t), she carefully repacked it all and moved on to the other bags, making sure to do the ones that Ino-kun had already mentioned doing. Just in case.
A first few were just like Ino-kun had said, soldier pills, spare kunai, wire, standard things for any shinobi to be carrying were they on a mission that gave them room to bring more than the minimum.
She paused though, when her hands brushed over metal, her fingers quick and moving to trace the design. It wasn’t a musical note.
“Shit,” she murmured softly, but with feeling, “we’ve got worse problems than just Otogakure.”
And that meant she needed to get out of here quickly, and contact the ANBU team watching them. They needed to know, and she knew good and well that the ANBU were keeping a closer eye on Ino-kun than on her.
Good, Megumi thought as she quickly, but thoroughly went through the last few bags and found nothing out of the ordinary, because Ino-kun is going to need the protection if things went wrong. And the odds of things going wrong had just… well, more than doubled. Squared? What a mess. Megumi wondered just how well Intel was doing their jobs these days if this sort of thing was getting past them.
What were they planning? Megumi wondered, as she did one more quick check of the room to make sure it still looked undisturbed. Whatever it was… it boded ill. And not just for the mission. This wasn’t a simple case of one Daimyo selling information to another side anymore. Perhaps it never had been.
They needed more information and needed it fast. Megumi hurried across the hall, scooped up her bathing basket, and set off towards the baths. She couldn’t deviate from what she’d told people, all it would take is one person to notice that she hadn’t actually been near the baths at any point and… well, worse case scenario, she’d be dead. Or worse than dead.
The baths were all but deserted this time of the day, and Megumi slipped off her robe-her ANBU spiral was hidden by dye-and into the hot water.
To all intents and purposes she looked relaxed. Eyes shut, head tilted back against the side of the hot spring, shoulders loose and at ease.
Nothing, of course, could be further from the truth. But the cornerstone of a good shinobi was the ability to lie and lie well. Power and flash made for excellent front-line defenses, but in ANBU... well, different rules applied.
Her fingers grazed past her mouth, to all appearances entirely casually, before dipping under the water and forming a few quick seals before pressing her hand neatly against the side of the hot spring and murmuring the jutsu through lips that barely moved.
Summoning jutsu weren't meant to be used in water really--mainly because the summons themselves protested--but it was the easiest way she could think of to get word out. Thanks to the enemy shinobi about she couldn't flare her chakra in any of their prearranged patterns.
A small grey mouse with a vest on crawled up out of the water, Megumi scooping one hand under it, setting it on her shoulder.
"Kotone-sama," he said, in a squeaky voice as he shook his fur out, "was that really necessary?"
She nodded, a bare twitch of her head, just enough to have her hair drape over the mouse so it couldn't be spotted. "We've got problems, Dai-chan. Big ones."
That got a squeak, and a cold nose pressed almost comfortingly to her neck. "Listening."
She quickly sketched out the situation, in a murmur that didn't travel past her shoulders, and using as few words as possible, ending with, "...Yuuta's team should be close. I need you to pass all of that on to them and have code blue implemented within the next forty-eight hours."
"Understood."
It was the only response she got, before there was a light scurrying down her arm and then Dai was gone into the grasses and away from her. There. That much done. Warning given. Two days, and they’d be out.
She stretched, opening her eyes, and reached for the soap.
--
This time of the day, just past lunch, most of the clan was busily occupied with either managing the affairs of the clan, or long gone on missions. As such, the training grounds on the compound were for the most part unused.
This afternoon though, there were two Hyuuga in the main training room. Only one was actually training, but both of them were learning.
It was a tentative idea, slow and unsteady, with many pitfalls and holes they had to be careful to avoid. But, so far, it was working. Three hours from the first conception, discussion, and approval of the idea… it was still working.
They were both trying, in their own ways.
Her breathing was steady and controlled to her hearing, not yet tired enough to be raspy, and Hinata made herself practice the forms her father had been drilling her in just that morning again.
And again.
Each footstep, each twist of her hand, doing her best to remember exactly where the fingers had to bend, how her elbow had to point, and step, she was still too slow--
“Your feet are too close together,” a voice said, startling her out of her concentration, “that’s why you can’t get the speed up for that.”
Hinata nodded, eyes set and automatically adjusted her stance.
“Better,” came the approval, “try it again.”
“Alright,” she said quietly, starting the pattern over. It flowed better, not easier, but still the movements were more fluid even if she was slower than before because of having to remember the new way her body had to move in. Sweat dripped down her spine, and she narrowed her eyes while narrowing her focus.
It was a good while later when the voice interrupted her again. “That’s enough, take a break.”
Hinata blinked as she came back to herself, feeling all of a sudden the exertion the practice had put on her. Rather than stop cold--she knew better than that, any shinobi child over the age of five knew that--Hinata slowed herself down easily, taking her time and letting her body cool down so that it wouldn’t stiffen up and cause more pain later. The sound of her breath in her ears, and the way her heartbeat jumped in her throat was almost soothing. It had been a good workout. Better than most, if she admitted it to herself.
“You were getting the hang of it by then end,” Hanabi said lightly from the side where she had been waiting and watching. And dispensing training advice in a cool voice that was better suited, Hinata thought, to someone older than Hanabi’s nine years.
She stretched, carefully thinking of how to respond without Hanabi taking offense. “Your advice was good,” Hinata said eventually, a tentative smile crossing her face.
“Of course it was,” Hanabi said dismissively. “Father said I might spend some time teaching you, did he not? You know that he wouldn’t have let a hint of that cross his lips if he wasn’t sure I could handle it-both in the teaching, and in the knowing it for myself.”
Hinata could not argue with that, and her shoulders slumped slightly. It was true enough, she knew. But why did Hanabi always have to fling it in her face? Only, she knew even as she thought it, that it only made sense-
Hanabi should’ve been the heir. Or Neji-niisan. Not her, not when of the three of them she was so far behind that someone five years her junior and still in the Academy was teaching her the family taijutsu. A silence fell between the two sisters as Hinata considered that. She could not argue, though her heart wanted to as she’d never asked to be born first either.
“Why did you say yes?” Hinata asked quietly, as she sipped from a cup of once cold but now lukewarm water and glanced sideways at Hanabi.
She got an irritable shrug for her trouble.
“Can’t have you disgracing the Hyuuga name,” her little sister pointed out. “It’s shameful, that’s what it is. First Clan in the village and our heiress is one of the weakest ninja her age? And it does me good to teach it-it’s another way to learn it and make sure I know it all as well as I should.”
Hinata shook her head. She didn’t know what else she’d expected for an answer but that wasn’t it. She couldn’t say that she was surprised, but…
“Father has not yet laid to rest the plans he had for your engagement,” Hanabi observed. “What do you think?”
Hinata glanced at her sister, surprised that Hanabi was voluntarily talking to her, even if it was just to pry. “It was the smart thing to petition him to put it off for a few years before making any decision,” Hinata said. “Beyond the fact that Neji-niisan and I are not well suited, there is the problem of both of us currently pursuing an active career as shinobi-too much would be left up to chance so early, and it’d be easy enough for one or the other of us to get cut down in the middle of battle. His plans, of course, haven't changed. It’s merely postponed.”
Hanabi looked at the ground for a long moment. “I don’t understand you,” she said finally. “You ask for something, and then when you don’t get it-and you never ask for anything so the fact that you went and did means that it’s important to you but…”
“I don’t understand you either,” Hinata returned levelly.
“You’re so soft,” Hanabi said, ignoring Hinata’s comment with a stubborn lift of her chin. “You don’t get it, not the way that it’s supposed to be. Instead you keep dreaming your dreams and hoping that magically they’ll come true. You don’t fight for anything.”
"Hanabi, I-"
“I don’t want to hear it,” Hanabi told her. “We’re too different, your point of view makes no sense to me and mine makes no sense to you. You know that. We both do know it, don’t even try to lie about that.”
She wasn’t going to. It was the pure and simple truth. Hinata knew it in the way that Hanabi breezed through life with easy confidence and cool calculation while she, herself, stuck to the shadows and tried to divert attention away. She knew it in the way that her father, who was busy, had agreed to let Hanabi, who was five years younger than she, to train her. That was where she stood with the clan, and she could not forget it.
Hinata couldn’t help but wish for a moment that she could’ve been born with all that skill. All that pure confidence, that steadiness. She was getting better, it was true, but it was still a long, up-hill battle and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever catch up.
She knew that if she put that into words, in her letters to Naruto that he’d merely write something back that read along the lines of: ‘well, then, go ahead and catch up. Don’t let them get you down, Hinata-chan!’ And, in a way, he’d be right. But at the same time…
It wasn’t that easy.
“Just because we don’t understand each other,” Hinata said, the words falling heavily into the silence of the training room. “Doesn’t mean that we can’t try to.”
Hanabi stared at her, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Excuse me?”
“We can try,” Hinata repeated, hoping she was doing the right thing and that this wouldn’t horribly backfire like so many things did on her. “Try to understand each other.”
She waited to see what would happen. If her sister would explode into a rant, or just coldly ignore her as was her wont depending on her mood. Hanabi, however, just continued to stare at her for a moment, then two, until it was as if the silence was growing louder and louder around them and Hinata braced herself for the refusal when…
“I’ll think about it,” Hanabi snapped, sweeping out of the room in a huff, her black hair flaring furiously behind her and irritation expressed in the set of her body.
Hinata smiled.
--
She stretched, closing her eyes and letting the muscles in her back pull and relax with the movement, before stepping away from the counter and heading for the window. It was night, and Kurenai found herself idly wondering how Asuma and his team were doing on their mission.
Not of her concern really, except for where he was involved. She didn’t even know which direction they’d headed off in.
Shooing those thoughts away with a small shake of her head, Kurenai had to laugh softly at her own foolishness. What, was she a silly little Academy student with more romance than sense? Sillier than she’d ever been while actually in the Academy.
Another laugh, and she settled herself neatly in the window seat, drawing her knees close to her chest, one hand brushing her hair away from her face. Kurenai had never been much for silliness in school, too serious and quiet to bother with a lot of it, and then even moreso after her parents had been killed while on separate missions. That had been a bad month.
Determined to keep to her good humor though, Kurenai stared out the window, letting a smile curve her lips as she watched the village. It was all going well for the moment, as well as it could be at least-there were always dangers, and threats, of course-but it was moments like this when the threats seemed, for a few days, to be far away.
It was a while later, maybe an hour, when there was a soft knock on her door. Kurenai unfolded herself gracefully from the window seat, setting aside her mug of tea as she passed by the counter, and raised her eyebrows as she recognized Kiba’s chakra signature.
She opened the door just as he’d raised his hand to knock again.
“Kurenai-sensei,” he said, looking awkward and his hand drifting to rub the back of his neck. “Good evening.” At his feet Akamaru gave a soft bark and wagged his tail.
She stepped to the side, gesturing for them to come in. “Kiba, Akamaru,” she said, smiling slightly. “Do come in. Was there anything I could get you to drink?”
“No thanks,” he said, slipping off his shoes as closed the door behind them. “Maybe some water for Akamaru though, Kurenai-sensei.”
“Not a problem,” she assured him. “Have seat, please.”
Getting water for Akamaru didn’t take long, but she deliberately spent a bit of time setting tea on and obtaining a plate of cookies-not too sweet, as she didn’t much care for sweets-and when she set it all down on the table, a saucer of water for Akamaru going to the floor, she watched with her student with half-lidded eyes.
He was nervous, she noted, and uncomfortable. She knew it wasn’t her apartment, as all three of her students had spent more than one evening here going over their training schedules with her, or asking questions about what had happened on missions.
She knew her students though, and while both Shino and Hinata did better when she asked them questions-sly sideways ones, in Shino’s case, and more direct and pointed ones, for Hinata-of the three of them, Kiba was the one that you had to wait out and let him speak in his own time.
As such, Kurenai helped herself to a cup of tea, pouring one for him as well, despite his negation of her offer, and settled back on the couch chatting idly about the weather-winter rains, for the most part, or rather chilly days-as she kept an eye on Kiba while he slowly relaxed and gathered his thoughts.
His feet had led him to her door, it was time to wait for the rest of him to catch up and decide what to say. Luck, or rather, not luck but experience, had her more than able to make small talk as she watched him slowly drink the tea he’d said he didn’t want. Patience and solid small talk were skills that she’d easily honed over time, and was able to easily keep up a steady stream of mild, inoffensive words while her most impetuous student made up his mind.
Akamaru rested on the ground by Kiba’s feet, lapping at the water now and again. Kurenai, as she always did when it came to this pair, made equally sure to keep an eye on Akamaru’s moods as well-they were often a truer indication of Kiba’s state of mind than his face.
“Kurenai-sensei,” he said finally, setting his cup down and rubbing at the back of his neck.
A nervous habit, she noted. One he’d have to be careful of out in the field. Kurenai merely tilted her head at him, letting her carefully constructed stream of chatter still and waited for him to continue. Patience, with all her team, was a must.
Just in different forms.
It took him awhile, but he did eventually continue. “I messed up on our last mission,” he said, turning the cup in his hands and not looking directly at her.
It had been an simple mistake, one that would’ve gone unremarked upon until they’d been back in the village had it not happened and they’d been overheard by bandits. A simple retrieval mission, a laugh at the wrong moment, and they’d had to fight their way out.
“You did,” she said mildly. She’d already brought it up for discussion with the team, this wasn’t a surprise, and she wasn’t going to mince words even though Kiba winced at it. “Not irreparably, thanks goodness.”
“Shino and Hinata kept it together,” he said slowly, as if the words were being dragged out of him. “I just fought.”
Kurenai merely watched him, her red eyes thoughtful.
“…they shouldn’t have had to be the ones to keep it all together. I should’ve helped.”
She leaned back against the couch and considered him. “What do you want to do about it?”
He was right, she wouldn’t soften that. It wasn’t her way. He’d made a mistake; he had to find his own way to fix it. She’d help, she’d suggest, but it had to be up to him.
“I’ve been… thinking about it,” came the answer, low and reluctant, “and it’s not the first time they’ve kept it all from messing up worse when I could’ve helped, is it?”
“It’s not,” she said calmly. “You have, in my own observations though, improved greatly in the time you’ve been under my command.”
Entirely the truth.
He looked pleased for a moment before deflating. Akamaru rested his head on his paws and huffed. “I need to get better at it, even with the improvements… that’s what I’ve been thinking, Kurenai-sensei. Or else… I’m going to keep screwing up and it’s eventually going to cost them bad.”
That earned him an approving nod.
“I - Kurenai-sensei, I know you’ve given me a few pointers on it before,” he took a deep breath. “Can you help me more? Hana’s done her best, but she and Mom have been too busy lately and I… don’t want to wait.”
“I’ll help,” she assured him, pleased in his initiative, once he’d trailed off. “That’s what I’m here for, right?”
He laughed.
Kurenai got up, gathering the empty cups to take to the kitchen.
“Kurenai-sensei?” Kiba said quietly. “Thanks.”
--
The water was warm and slick and wet on her skin. Ino sank into the empty hot spring with a sigh bourn entirely of delight for the temperature of it all. It had been a long busy day and she was glad of the chance to rest.
For all of the running around she’d had to do though, things had been quiet. The hitae-ite was still branded into her memory and she knew better than to think that perhaps she’d truly been mistaken and so her guard couldn’t be put down, but at the same time…
At the same time, she was only fourteen, nothing had happened in twenty-four and some odd hours, it was her first real undercover mission, and the bath was really very relaxing. Ino thought that it’d do no one any harm if she let herself just… drift amongst the water for a little bit. But just a little.
Brown hair, hers though it still struck her as odd at times--though, really, now an oddity that she was mostly accustomed to--fanned out around her as she went underwater for a space of four breaths before surfacing with a small laugh, and then reaching for the soap.
It was late, though not so late that she’d be regretting it tomorrow when she had to be up at the crack of dawn to care for the little hime, and Ino had promised Megumi-san that she’d be back in the room before midnight for sure.
Megumi-san had simply laughed at that and told her to watch out, and at the same time be glad of the energy her youth gave her.
At that, Ino had only grinned, and then headed to her current destination.
It was a relief, just being in the hot water, letting it sink into her and ease up the constant stress of having to be someone else. She didn’t know what precautions exactly that Megumi-san was taking about the Chuunin who were not, apparently, really Chuunin of Iwa despite their claims-and one of the maids had said that they had the tattoos of the Iwa nation, and wasn’t that exciting?
Ino hadn’t asked what the maid had been doing to see those tattoos - that was obvious and the very idea made her lip curl. Ew. Talk about gross. Who’d want to sleep with them? She'd reported the facts, as she'd understood them, to Megumi-san though. Ino was glad, for once, of her age in that it gave Megumi-san an excuse to publicly (well, in the servants mess hall, at least) scold her into promising that she’d not do anything so silly as all of that.
Ino was glad for small mercies. She was a loyal kunoichi, to be sure, but still--sleeping with the enemy on her first mission would’ve been far too hard.
The water was soothing, like a balm for frazzled nerves, and she couldn’t help but wonder just how long this mission would go on for. It was… well, definitely a challenge, and she knew good and well that the dye in her hair and the tan of her skin wouldn’t last forever. More than anything that meant it couldn’t be such a long time .
Otherwise, a different brand of dye would’ve been used.
Ino took solace in that. The mission, however exciting was still large and frightening in her mind and part of her, though she’d never say it aloud, wished that the rest of her team was closer.
It didn’t matter that they weren’t even all the way across town. Ino wanted them around, even if it was just to argue. A fight with Shikamaru would be nice at the moment as a way to relieve some of the stress she’d been forced to tuck under Junko-chan’s mask.
Grin and bear it.
She was getting better at that, she knew. Megumi-san had begun teaching her, furtively, a little of the hand language the more advanced operatives learned, and she knew better than to think something like that meant she was a disappointment. She wasn't.
If she’d been doing badly, well then, no doubt she’d still have learned a bit just in case, but the extra lessons in the middle of brushing her hair, or eating supper or breakfast--even during walks in the gardens where each flower had to be stopped and sniffed by Aiko-sama and Ino could only be there and try not to wince when the little girl called a violet a tulip--wouldn't have happened. It was, well, almost peaceful.
Which, she knew, was the most dangerous impression of all. But it was so hard to keep up the façade all the time and Ino found herself, without quite realizing it, humming a few bars of a song her mother had sung her when she was a child before she realized it. Small comforts.
Ino took her time in the bath, making sure to wash her hair very thoroughly and then scrub her body until it was pink and clean and she felt like she might be herself underneath all of the Junko-chan she’d been being lately. Ino wished for a fight, but knew better than to misstep that badly out of character.
Junko-chan wouldn’t, therefore she couldn’t, no matter how much she wanted to.
Clambering out of the hot spring, drying off, Ino slipped into the worn robe she’d brought with her-it was soft against her skin, if slightly too long for her height-and toweled her hair off roughly while sitting on the bench she’d put her things on while she’d bathed. It was, really, one thing to bathe, but it was another thing entirely to take your time about it and relax.
When she’d finished brushing her hair, the brown strands falling loose around her face and down her back, Ino neatly packed her basket of things away, doing a quick check to make sure that she hadn’t left anything laying around (she hadn’t) before settling the basket on her hips and heading out the of the baths.
She wasn’t going to miss Megumi-san’s deadline, she still had a solid half an hour at least and Ino was taking her time down the halls-mostly quiet now, what with the majority of the staff sleeping. It was in between shifts and the night works were just going to bed and yet too early for the day workers to be getting up.
Two shadows in front of her made her pause. Ino glanced up and forced a smile on her face, training letting her keep it looking real.
“Good evening, shinobi-san,” she said meekly as the two that guarded the Daimyo most often came down the hall in her direction. No matter, she had passed their rooms. They’d probably just finished their shifts.
“Out late?” one of them said with a laugh and her heart beat faster as she realized that two others had just stepped out from the rooms behind her. She hadn’t even heard the doors sliding open.
“Just at the baths,” she said, carefully moving to inch past them, all wide-eyed innocence and wondering, hoping like mad that she hadn’t done anything that’d have them suspect…
Her hopes were dashed with his next words.
“And where do you think you're going, Kunoichi-chan?”
Fear rang in her ears as her breathing hitched with barely suppressed panic.
Shit.
--
Previous Chapter // Chapter List // Next Chapter
Chapter: 08 Missteps
Author/Artist: Skylar Inari
Pairing: Yamanaka Ino/Nara Shikamaru
Theme: 42 - Panic Button
Word Count: 8507
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. AU immediately after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc. Part 8 of ? Unbeta’d.
It was the worst thing ever, she decided, in the midst of having to scrub the floors, to have to wait around and hope that no one noticed that you were, in fact, waiting for someone.
Ino spent the rest of the time while preparing for the banquet in quite a state. She hid it though, with light words and smiles that made the others grin and she was glad enough to be given leave an hour before the dinner was to start. It was deemed, by Hoshi-sama, that more senior maidservants would be the ones to handle the dressing of little Aiko. With that permission, she bowed, accepted the hug from Aiko-sama with a grin that she didn’t feel, and fled the banquet hall.
She immediately hurried to her room, glad for the respite, for the time in relative privacy so that she didn’t have to keep the smile on her face quite so bright. For a moment Ino flung herself down on her bed and closed her eyes. Her head was reeling with thoughts and worries. Ino had given herself a headache keeping her composure spotlessly for the entire morning, and Megumi-san wasn’t even back yet.
Where was she?
Had something gone wrong? She worried for a moment before forcibly dismissing the idea. It was far too early to start wondering about something so dire.
Ino, knowing that though she’d been dismissed, couldn’t just hang around her room and do nothing for hours on end--no matter how much she wanted to, just to help give herself time to put things into perspective--forced herself off the bed and considered her options.
She had realized, about half an hour after getting back to the banquet hall that she hadn’t checked both of the bags. Sloppy, she thought reprovingly. That could’ve been done better, but she’d panicked at the thought of Otogakure.
A part of her, a rather large part of her it had to be admitted, wanted nothing better than to go and scope out the room again--and make sure that she hadn’t mistaken what she’d seen. That it hadn’t been something she’d made up.
But that was a fools’ game and Ino knew that. She had seen the hitae-ite and it hadn’t been a mistake. There was no misunderstanding the sight of a musical note precisely engraved on the cold metal.
The only thing that remained was what she was to do about it. There… wasn’t a whole lot that she could do really.
In an attempt to put it out of her thoughts until Megumi-san got back from her trip out--no doubt, Ino realized, that the ‘rain’ had delayed her. Ino smirked faintly as she started tidying up the small room that the two of them were sharing for the duration of their employment. Of course the rain wouldn’t any of shinobi, and definitely not one of Megumi-san’s caliber. Lies within lies.
Ino felt a bit of a twinge at that thought. A part of her would’ve liked to be able to go and see them, her team, but she knew better than that. She knew better than to even make noises about wanting to go.
It’d be too suspicious if she were seen. Megumi could go places that Junko couldn’t and that was that.
And always one of them had to remain on-site to keep an eye out so that nothing escaped their notice.
It wasn’t long after she’d finished tidying the room, and was just setting the water to boil to make tea, waiting rather impatiently for it, it must be admitted, while getting started on the sewing work she’d acquired after having tentatively inquired about some work she might do while the rest of the household was more engrossed with the banquet-when she heard familiar footfalls coming down the hallway.
Megumi-san was back. There was no mistaking who it could be, and no reason as of yet to worry (more than basic prudence, of course) about such a mistake, and it was proven a moment later by the grinning and soaking wet figure of her ‘sister’ as she appeared, sliding open the paper door and stepping inside the rooms they shared.
Ino leapt to her feet, all solicitous sibling, and quickly but efficiently got Megumi-san out of her wet things and into a warm, if worn, robe and presented her with a cup of tea. That earned her a smile of approval and Ino glowed a bit, even if it was possibly all just a smile for the act. Did it matter, really? It was still a smile for her.
All the while though, as she went about fussing over her ‘sister’ making sure that she was warm enough, and that the tea was to her liking, Ino chattered brightly about the preparations that had been going on, how much more work there still was to do before they could even dream of having guests over and that, apparently, more shinobi were to come for the banquet--wasn’t that exciting? It was certainly interesting.
“And what,” Ino said severely, toweling off Megumi-san’s hair as she spoke, “were you thinking staying out in the rain for so long? Do you want to get sick or something, Onee-sama? Ino had her hands make a few simple gestures, brushing up against Megumi-san’s scalp, relaying a silent: I need to talk to you.
“I only did what I was told, Junko-chan. And I’m sure you’ll not allow an illness anywhere near me,” Megumi said, and followed it with the quick inwards dip of her right little finger and then a raise of her eyebrows. Wait.
She needed to report, and she needed to report quickly. Ino expressed the urgency of that in the way she shrugged, pretending to fight off a shiver while turning to get a brush from the table, and beginning to run it through Megumi-san’s hair. “Perhaps a bath?” Ino suggested, “To make sure a chill doesn’t take hold.”
“Wait however long until the banquet is in session,” Megumi-san said, after considering the suggestion for a few moments. ”It’ll do no good to attempt to make it to the baths while the halls are so busy.”
Ino had to be content with that. Megumi-san had gotten her message, and for sure, she was right, it’d be better to wait until people where mostly otherwise occupied. Even if it grated on her nerves.
“Not so long a wait,” she said, with a faint smile, “less than half an hour even. People should be entering the hall already, except for those who deign to be fashionably late.”
Which was something to be glad of. She’d be patient because Megumi-san had ordered it, but that did not mean she had to like it. At all. And this… wasn’t something that should be put off for long. “Would you like me to brush out your hair, Onee-sama?”
When in doubt, stick with the character you were given. Ino could do that.
“If you would,” was the calm, and Ino imagined, approving response. She was glad of the task, however simple, to focus her energy on and pretend that everything was alright.
It wasn’t until after she’d finished with Megumi-san’s hair and, upon request, went and fetched, returning in short order, with two bowls of rice and vegetables--it seemed that she hadn’t been kidding about being hungry--that Megumi raised her eyebrows expectantly at Ino, and Ino knew she could speak freely.
Ino made herself sit calmly, her back straight and kept her voice level. Calm and cool. While she wanted to just spill the whole story out in one jumbled rush of words… Ino had the training, if not the experience-Asuma-sensei had beaten this sort of thing into her head, and done it well-that she knew in order to give a properly coherent report (and more importantly, a useful one) that she had to know how to marshal her thoughts carefully and keep track of how she wanted to say it. All of it.
She told of the chance to explore. The hitae-ite. How nothing else had seemed out of place, though she hadn’t dared to stick around and check out the bags belonging to the other shinobi. Ino spoke of how she’d put it back exactly how she had found it and then spent the rest of the day waiting, just waiting, for this moment while acting as normal as she could about everything.
When she was finished, Ino settled back, feeling relieved that she’d finally been able to report about what had been happening while Megumi-san had been gone. That was important.
“And you’re certain that no one suspects a thing?” Megumi asked slowly, turning her teacup in her hands.
Ino nodded, but quickly added, “Not one hundred percent certain of course,” that’d just be foolhardy, assuming that, “but as sure as I can be about it. I was careful.”
“I’m sure you were,” and Ino couldn’t help but preen a little under the approval of implicit in those words, “I’ll do some investigating on my own.”
“Yes, Onee-sama.”
She nodded. That was what she’d expected--no Genin would be allowed properly to go out and poke their nose into affairs so dangerous.
“What shall I do for now then?” Ino asked, tucking her brown dyed hair behind on ear.
“For now, keep acting as you have been. Don’t go out of your way to see them-but don’t try to avoid them either, because they will notice that since you never did it before. And tell me if you see anything else.”
“Yes, Onee-sama.”
--
Sakura beamed and smoothed down the front of her apron as her latest customers left the flower shop cradling twin bouquets in their arms. A quick look around the shop showed that for the moment there was no one who needed her assistance and her smile broadened. Slipping behind the pale wood counter at the back she ducked quickly into the back room and took a sip of her juice before going back up front.
Yamanaka Flowers wasn’t a place Sakura had ever considered working at, even part time. For one thing, Ino worked there often when she wasn’t training (though her current schedule meant that Ino was only working maybe two short shifts a week) and Sakura had long ago decided that working with Ino would only be hazardous to the health of both of them. Friends, yes. Co-workers outside of the both of them being ninja?
No. Definitely not a good idea.
The shop was nice though. Wide aisles which gave the flowers room so they didn’t look crowded and crushed while letting the customers have enough space to maneuver without fear of knocking things over. The flooring was hard dark wood and the walls were painted a very pale yellow. Wide windows kept the place from being too enclosed.
She’d come up with the idea of working at the shop when Yamanaka Mui-san had been firm about her refusal of any other payment, and Sakura had been equally determined to find some way pay the Yamanaka’s back for their kindness in letting her stay.
Paying her way, as it were. She didn’t want to be beholden to anyone a single moment longer than she had to. If there’d been anyway that she could afford it-or even dream of being able to afford it-Sakura would’ve attempted living on her own on just her Genin salary.
Even with the fact that she could, technically (and she was sure he wouldn’t mind) stay at Naruto’s place, Sakura knew that it’d be hard going for her to manage it as it was. How did Naruto do it, she wondered idly. Maybe she’d ask him in her next letter out.
“Daydreaming?” Mui-san asked, sounding quietly amused.
Sakura flushed. Here she was, trying to make up for the fact that she was, essentially, being a free-loader and…
“Don’t worry about it,” she was told, as Mui-san brushed past her to the counter. “It’s quiet today. A few moments won’t hurt anyone, not even yourself.”
“Mui-san,” Sakura started, turning to look at the woman, “I wanted to -“
“If you’re apologizing for it, I don’t want to hear it Sakura-chan.” Mui-san told her firmly with a faint smile lighting up her face. Looking at Mui-san was a bit like looking at Ino and wondering if this was what she might look like in twenty years or so.
Of course, Sakura had to admit, Ino took a great deal after both her parents and really it was hard to tell what would happen in however many years. And, she knew, Ino would say that she looked only like herself thank-you-very-much.
She blushed slightly. “I still feel that I should be-“
“Don’t worry about it,” Mui-san said, with calm insistence. “You’re an excellent bit of help with Ino-chan so busy with other work these days. We’ve been a bit short-staffed.”
Which was not precisely a complaint, Sakura knew. Mui-san, as a former kunoichi, knew better than to underestimate the importance of training while you could. It was a lesson that Sakura had learned. Only fools didn’t bother to train past their limits. She’d been a fool once, but no more.
“And besides that,” the blonde-haired woman continued, “as you’re Ino’s friend it was not as if we could do anything else. I hate to think of my daughter’s reaction to hearing that we’d turned her best friend away.”
Sakura found, almost to her dismay, that she was starting to smile. “She’s not so bad.”
“Not so bad,” Mui-san laughed lightly, “Ah, she’s got a good friend in you. I know my daughter and yes, she can be that bad. Worse than that even. Much like her father. Two of them, both cut from the same cloth.”
And proud of it, Sakura knew. No question about that.
She wondered, a bit, at what it’d be like to now have someone who’d be on her side no matter what and support her the way that Ino’s family did.
Some of her feelings must have showed on her face because Mui-san’s face became sympathetic, but not pitying, and her next words were, “Ah well, civilians, they don’t understand. I know that quite well. Has Ino told you much about that?”
Sakura paused and then shook her head, pink hair flying loose around her head. “I’ve only heard the very basics from Ino,” she admitted. “Just that you didn’t get along with your family and that you were glad to be parted from them.”
Mui-san smiled faintly. “Not exactly the truth, but I cannot blame by daughter for wanting to spare me the indignity of going into detail about it all.”
Sakura supposed, then, that she couldn’t blame Ino for not telling her. After all, it wasn’t as if any of this was any of her business really. “I... I don’t mean to pry or anything,” she said quickly. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“Sakura-chan,” Mui-san said, with a smile that crinkled the skin around her eyes. “I’m the one that brought it up. There are no apologies needed.”
She nodded mutely.
“Would you like to hear it then? At least,” Mui-san amended. “At least a little bit of wisdom that I feel you sorely need to hear, though I doubt you’ll care for it. It’s not a very happy story, though it turns out, in the end, good enough for me. “
“I’d like that, Mui-san,” Sakura said quietly, smoothing her apron down again, and hoping that she’d live up to whatever it was that Mui-san saw in her. There were days when Sakura didn’t think she could.
“That I managed to get into the Academy was purely through sheer stubborn determination as my parents disapproved of the idea from the beginning. They gave in eventually though, knowing as I do, that most drop-outs are in the first two years of the Academy--young enough then that they would’ve been able to put me into a civilian school once the ‘phase’ wore off and I had realized how dangerous a job it was that I wanted.”
Sakura tucked a piece of her hair behind one hear and listened intently to what Mui-san was saying.
“Of course,” Mui-san said. “I didn’t change my mind. I wasn’t top of my class, but I wasn’t anywhere near the bottom either. My skills were quite firmly in the middle range of it all, and it was generally speculated that I’d be a fine Chuunin, a career Chuunin, but that it was unlikely that I’d ever make Jounin.” She paused, lips twisting slightly. “Or, honestly, that it was unlikely that I’d ever really want to make Jounin.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to?” Sakura asked, startled. “Doesn’t everyone want to go up in ranks?”
“Ah,” Mui-san said, looking faintly amused, “no. It’s another thing that civilian-born shinobi find out eventually, if they don’t die first. Most of your classmates-or at least, most of the ones that you graduated with in fact, will no doubt go on to become solid Chuunin at the very least and specialize in a field. Some, and only some, will go further than that.”
“Then why not--“
“Because they don’t have the heart for it,” Mui-san explained. “They don’t have the steel underneath it to keep going, to care so deeply that they don’t care.”
Sakura felt like she was speaking another language. “What does that mean exactly, Mui-san?”
“It means everything,” Mui-san said firmly. “There’s a certain… coldness of spirit that makes for a good Jounin. My husband has it.”
A pause. Sakura stared wide-eyed at Mui-san.
“I can see it in my daughter already. All that she needs is the skill. She’s got the heart.” Mui-san looked at Sakura. “So do you, I believe. Every couple of years or so you get a class like yours-cold-hearted and yet as passionate as the sun.”
“Why would that…” Sakura shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense…”
“It does, I assure you,” Mui-san said. “Because to be a good Jounin, and not just have the skills of one, you must be able to close your heart to suffering. You’ve got to be able to care so deeply and yet tread the fine line of not caring at all. Or you’ll go mad.”
“How does that relate to you…?”
Mui-san shook her head. “I didn’t have it. That heart of fire. I made Chuunin, eventually-after living on first with my sensei and then on my own, as my parents kicked me out the day I graduated from the Academy-but that heart, that sense of feeling, never developed. Did you know that? You can’t learn that. You’ve got to be born with it. The few who make it to Jounin without that heart are the ones that die quickly. My sensei told me, way back when I was just a Genin that I’d best not even to try for Jounin. Do you know why?”
She shook her head again.
“Because I care too much,” Mui-san said simply. “I cared so much so that when my sensei went down, rather than keep fighting, accomplish the mission, I went and tried to avenge him. I messed up because in that moment I wasn’t thinking like a shinobi-I was thinking like a civilian. I was lucky to make it out with my life though, though I paid for my foolishness and was injured badly enough that they never could put me back on active duty.”
“A shinobi’s heart must be both soft as silk and cold as steel all that the same time, Sakura-chan. You must have the strength of will to both kill people, and to save them. Jounin are those that can walk the line above that wavering pit and do it so well that we never notice just how much the rope wobbles when they move. You’re still learning,” she sighed.
“Go. You’ve got the rest of the day off. Think about what I said.”
Sakura fled.
--
Daring. Nerve. Innovation.
She could work with that. Megumi tugged her hair back, watching as Ino left the room, and considered what she’d been told.
Otogakure. Here. That was… well, that was unexpected. So close to the border of Iwa’s jurisdiction. She didn’t doubt Ino, though she’d have to confirm it with her own eyes to be able to report it. There was utterly no possibility of her being able to simply include that in her report as a fact. Not when the information had come from a Genin.
But she would definitely include, should it prove true or not, what Ino had done of her own initiative. Good. Quick thinking, though perhaps it could’ve been quicker and remembered to check the bags of the other shinobi for an alternate hitae-ite, but well and good. She could not fault Ino-kun, only a Genin after all, for being not daring enough to stick around longer than she had.
Especially with the chance of them coming back at any moment and coupled with the discovery the other hitae-ite…
Alright. Megumi considered her options, already moving, tugging her robe back up, and cinching it tight about her waist. Coiling her hair on top her head, she went and got the basket they shared for bathing.
The Jounin, which they had to be though they claimed only Chuunin rank, had rooms that were along the route she’d have to take to head for the baths. And a bath would do her good, besides. The rain might not have slowed her down, but it could still make her ill if she wasn’t careful. Reasoning enough to kill two birds with one stone.
Slipping out of the room, leaving a quick note for ‘Junko-chan’ that she’d gone to the baths, Megumi paced evenly down the halls. Calm confidence, and a rueful smile for those few servants she came across. Hoshi-sama’s orders, she explained when they asked, had sent her outside for hours. They nodded, and shooed her onwards, no need for further explanations.
The truth, she’d told Ino-kun as they’d traveled here, can go a long way. Don’t lie unless you need to.
People saw what they wanted to see, what they expected to see. They saw a girl heading for the baths; they assumed you really were just a girl heading for the baths.
Reaching the hallway, with the linen closet, and the rooms she needed to inspect, Megumi deviated from her neat route long enough to set her basket down, in the closet, so that no one would trip over it, before sliding carefully across the hall. The lack of chakra from inside the room said it was empty, as she’d suspected, since the Chuunin would need to be present for the entirety of the banquet, as they were the Daimyo’s bodyguards no matter what other agendas they might have.
It did not, however, rule out the idea that one of them might be using a Bunshin. Caution, therefore, was essential. Always was really.
The room was just as it had been described, down to the bags and the risqué poetry on the desk. As far as she could tell neither shinobi had entered the room since Ino-kun had left it. Quickly then, before she got caught, Megumi went first for the bag that Ino-kun had mentioned going through.
In short order, she’d confirmed the presence of the Otogakure hitae-ite. It looked new though, almost unused… perhaps they were missing-nin that had just recently been recruited? Megumi frowned slightly. If they’d been missing-nin she would’ve recognized them.
Neither of them were in the Bingo Book though which…
Was a bad sign.
Checking the bag again to make sure she hadn’t missed anything (she hadn’t), she carefully repacked it all and moved on to the other bags, making sure to do the ones that Ino-kun had already mentioned doing. Just in case.
A first few were just like Ino-kun had said, soldier pills, spare kunai, wire, standard things for any shinobi to be carrying were they on a mission that gave them room to bring more than the minimum.
She paused though, when her hands brushed over metal, her fingers quick and moving to trace the design. It wasn’t a musical note.
“Shit,” she murmured softly, but with feeling, “we’ve got worse problems than just Otogakure.”
And that meant she needed to get out of here quickly, and contact the ANBU team watching them. They needed to know, and she knew good and well that the ANBU were keeping a closer eye on Ino-kun than on her.
Good, Megumi thought as she quickly, but thoroughly went through the last few bags and found nothing out of the ordinary, because Ino-kun is going to need the protection if things went wrong. And the odds of things going wrong had just… well, more than doubled. Squared? What a mess. Megumi wondered just how well Intel was doing their jobs these days if this sort of thing was getting past them.
What were they planning? Megumi wondered, as she did one more quick check of the room to make sure it still looked undisturbed. Whatever it was… it boded ill. And not just for the mission. This wasn’t a simple case of one Daimyo selling information to another side anymore. Perhaps it never had been.
They needed more information and needed it fast. Megumi hurried across the hall, scooped up her bathing basket, and set off towards the baths. She couldn’t deviate from what she’d told people, all it would take is one person to notice that she hadn’t actually been near the baths at any point and… well, worse case scenario, she’d be dead. Or worse than dead.
The baths were all but deserted this time of the day, and Megumi slipped off her robe-her ANBU spiral was hidden by dye-and into the hot water.
To all intents and purposes she looked relaxed. Eyes shut, head tilted back against the side of the hot spring, shoulders loose and at ease.
Nothing, of course, could be further from the truth. But the cornerstone of a good shinobi was the ability to lie and lie well. Power and flash made for excellent front-line defenses, but in ANBU... well, different rules applied.
Her fingers grazed past her mouth, to all appearances entirely casually, before dipping under the water and forming a few quick seals before pressing her hand neatly against the side of the hot spring and murmuring the jutsu through lips that barely moved.
Summoning jutsu weren't meant to be used in water really--mainly because the summons themselves protested--but it was the easiest way she could think of to get word out. Thanks to the enemy shinobi about she couldn't flare her chakra in any of their prearranged patterns.
A small grey mouse with a vest on crawled up out of the water, Megumi scooping one hand under it, setting it on her shoulder.
"Kotone-sama," he said, in a squeaky voice as he shook his fur out, "was that really necessary?"
She nodded, a bare twitch of her head, just enough to have her hair drape over the mouse so it couldn't be spotted. "We've got problems, Dai-chan. Big ones."
That got a squeak, and a cold nose pressed almost comfortingly to her neck. "Listening."
She quickly sketched out the situation, in a murmur that didn't travel past her shoulders, and using as few words as possible, ending with, "...Yuuta's team should be close. I need you to pass all of that on to them and have code blue implemented within the next forty-eight hours."
"Understood."
It was the only response she got, before there was a light scurrying down her arm and then Dai was gone into the grasses and away from her. There. That much done. Warning given. Two days, and they’d be out.
She stretched, opening her eyes, and reached for the soap.
--
This time of the day, just past lunch, most of the clan was busily occupied with either managing the affairs of the clan, or long gone on missions. As such, the training grounds on the compound were for the most part unused.
This afternoon though, there were two Hyuuga in the main training room. Only one was actually training, but both of them were learning.
It was a tentative idea, slow and unsteady, with many pitfalls and holes they had to be careful to avoid. But, so far, it was working. Three hours from the first conception, discussion, and approval of the idea… it was still working.
They were both trying, in their own ways.
Her breathing was steady and controlled to her hearing, not yet tired enough to be raspy, and Hinata made herself practice the forms her father had been drilling her in just that morning again.
And again.
Each footstep, each twist of her hand, doing her best to remember exactly where the fingers had to bend, how her elbow had to point, and step, she was still too slow--
“Your feet are too close together,” a voice said, startling her out of her concentration, “that’s why you can’t get the speed up for that.”
Hinata nodded, eyes set and automatically adjusted her stance.
“Better,” came the approval, “try it again.”
“Alright,” she said quietly, starting the pattern over. It flowed better, not easier, but still the movements were more fluid even if she was slower than before because of having to remember the new way her body had to move in. Sweat dripped down her spine, and she narrowed her eyes while narrowing her focus.
It was a good while later when the voice interrupted her again. “That’s enough, take a break.”
Hinata blinked as she came back to herself, feeling all of a sudden the exertion the practice had put on her. Rather than stop cold--she knew better than that, any shinobi child over the age of five knew that--Hinata slowed herself down easily, taking her time and letting her body cool down so that it wouldn’t stiffen up and cause more pain later. The sound of her breath in her ears, and the way her heartbeat jumped in her throat was almost soothing. It had been a good workout. Better than most, if she admitted it to herself.
“You were getting the hang of it by then end,” Hanabi said lightly from the side where she had been waiting and watching. And dispensing training advice in a cool voice that was better suited, Hinata thought, to someone older than Hanabi’s nine years.
She stretched, carefully thinking of how to respond without Hanabi taking offense. “Your advice was good,” Hinata said eventually, a tentative smile crossing her face.
“Of course it was,” Hanabi said dismissively. “Father said I might spend some time teaching you, did he not? You know that he wouldn’t have let a hint of that cross his lips if he wasn’t sure I could handle it-both in the teaching, and in the knowing it for myself.”
Hinata could not argue with that, and her shoulders slumped slightly. It was true enough, she knew. But why did Hanabi always have to fling it in her face? Only, she knew even as she thought it, that it only made sense-
Hanabi should’ve been the heir. Or Neji-niisan. Not her, not when of the three of them she was so far behind that someone five years her junior and still in the Academy was teaching her the family taijutsu. A silence fell between the two sisters as Hinata considered that. She could not argue, though her heart wanted to as she’d never asked to be born first either.
“Why did you say yes?” Hinata asked quietly, as she sipped from a cup of once cold but now lukewarm water and glanced sideways at Hanabi.
She got an irritable shrug for her trouble.
“Can’t have you disgracing the Hyuuga name,” her little sister pointed out. “It’s shameful, that’s what it is. First Clan in the village and our heiress is one of the weakest ninja her age? And it does me good to teach it-it’s another way to learn it and make sure I know it all as well as I should.”
Hinata shook her head. She didn’t know what else she’d expected for an answer but that wasn’t it. She couldn’t say that she was surprised, but…
“Father has not yet laid to rest the plans he had for your engagement,” Hanabi observed. “What do you think?”
Hinata glanced at her sister, surprised that Hanabi was voluntarily talking to her, even if it was just to pry. “It was the smart thing to petition him to put it off for a few years before making any decision,” Hinata said. “Beyond the fact that Neji-niisan and I are not well suited, there is the problem of both of us currently pursuing an active career as shinobi-too much would be left up to chance so early, and it’d be easy enough for one or the other of us to get cut down in the middle of battle. His plans, of course, haven't changed. It’s merely postponed.”
Hanabi looked at the ground for a long moment. “I don’t understand you,” she said finally. “You ask for something, and then when you don’t get it-and you never ask for anything so the fact that you went and did means that it’s important to you but…”
“I don’t understand you either,” Hinata returned levelly.
“You’re so soft,” Hanabi said, ignoring Hinata’s comment with a stubborn lift of her chin. “You don’t get it, not the way that it’s supposed to be. Instead you keep dreaming your dreams and hoping that magically they’ll come true. You don’t fight for anything.”
"Hanabi, I-"
“I don’t want to hear it,” Hanabi told her. “We’re too different, your point of view makes no sense to me and mine makes no sense to you. You know that. We both do know it, don’t even try to lie about that.”
She wasn’t going to. It was the pure and simple truth. Hinata knew it in the way that Hanabi breezed through life with easy confidence and cool calculation while she, herself, stuck to the shadows and tried to divert attention away. She knew it in the way that her father, who was busy, had agreed to let Hanabi, who was five years younger than she, to train her. That was where she stood with the clan, and she could not forget it.
Hinata couldn’t help but wish for a moment that she could’ve been born with all that skill. All that pure confidence, that steadiness. She was getting better, it was true, but it was still a long, up-hill battle and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever catch up.
She knew that if she put that into words, in her letters to Naruto that he’d merely write something back that read along the lines of: ‘well, then, go ahead and catch up. Don’t let them get you down, Hinata-chan!’ And, in a way, he’d be right. But at the same time…
It wasn’t that easy.
“Just because we don’t understand each other,” Hinata said, the words falling heavily into the silence of the training room. “Doesn’t mean that we can’t try to.”
Hanabi stared at her, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Excuse me?”
“We can try,” Hinata repeated, hoping she was doing the right thing and that this wouldn’t horribly backfire like so many things did on her. “Try to understand each other.”
She waited to see what would happen. If her sister would explode into a rant, or just coldly ignore her as was her wont depending on her mood. Hanabi, however, just continued to stare at her for a moment, then two, until it was as if the silence was growing louder and louder around them and Hinata braced herself for the refusal when…
“I’ll think about it,” Hanabi snapped, sweeping out of the room in a huff, her black hair flaring furiously behind her and irritation expressed in the set of her body.
Hinata smiled.
--
She stretched, closing her eyes and letting the muscles in her back pull and relax with the movement, before stepping away from the counter and heading for the window. It was night, and Kurenai found herself idly wondering how Asuma and his team were doing on their mission.
Not of her concern really, except for where he was involved. She didn’t even know which direction they’d headed off in.
Shooing those thoughts away with a small shake of her head, Kurenai had to laugh softly at her own foolishness. What, was she a silly little Academy student with more romance than sense? Sillier than she’d ever been while actually in the Academy.
Another laugh, and she settled herself neatly in the window seat, drawing her knees close to her chest, one hand brushing her hair away from her face. Kurenai had never been much for silliness in school, too serious and quiet to bother with a lot of it, and then even moreso after her parents had been killed while on separate missions. That had been a bad month.
Determined to keep to her good humor though, Kurenai stared out the window, letting a smile curve her lips as she watched the village. It was all going well for the moment, as well as it could be at least-there were always dangers, and threats, of course-but it was moments like this when the threats seemed, for a few days, to be far away.
It was a while later, maybe an hour, when there was a soft knock on her door. Kurenai unfolded herself gracefully from the window seat, setting aside her mug of tea as she passed by the counter, and raised her eyebrows as she recognized Kiba’s chakra signature.
She opened the door just as he’d raised his hand to knock again.
“Kurenai-sensei,” he said, looking awkward and his hand drifting to rub the back of his neck. “Good evening.” At his feet Akamaru gave a soft bark and wagged his tail.
She stepped to the side, gesturing for them to come in. “Kiba, Akamaru,” she said, smiling slightly. “Do come in. Was there anything I could get you to drink?”
“No thanks,” he said, slipping off his shoes as closed the door behind them. “Maybe some water for Akamaru though, Kurenai-sensei.”
“Not a problem,” she assured him. “Have seat, please.”
Getting water for Akamaru didn’t take long, but she deliberately spent a bit of time setting tea on and obtaining a plate of cookies-not too sweet, as she didn’t much care for sweets-and when she set it all down on the table, a saucer of water for Akamaru going to the floor, she watched with her student with half-lidded eyes.
He was nervous, she noted, and uncomfortable. She knew it wasn’t her apartment, as all three of her students had spent more than one evening here going over their training schedules with her, or asking questions about what had happened on missions.
She knew her students though, and while both Shino and Hinata did better when she asked them questions-sly sideways ones, in Shino’s case, and more direct and pointed ones, for Hinata-of the three of them, Kiba was the one that you had to wait out and let him speak in his own time.
As such, Kurenai helped herself to a cup of tea, pouring one for him as well, despite his negation of her offer, and settled back on the couch chatting idly about the weather-winter rains, for the most part, or rather chilly days-as she kept an eye on Kiba while he slowly relaxed and gathered his thoughts.
His feet had led him to her door, it was time to wait for the rest of him to catch up and decide what to say. Luck, or rather, not luck but experience, had her more than able to make small talk as she watched him slowly drink the tea he’d said he didn’t want. Patience and solid small talk were skills that she’d easily honed over time, and was able to easily keep up a steady stream of mild, inoffensive words while her most impetuous student made up his mind.
Akamaru rested on the ground by Kiba’s feet, lapping at the water now and again. Kurenai, as she always did when it came to this pair, made equally sure to keep an eye on Akamaru’s moods as well-they were often a truer indication of Kiba’s state of mind than his face.
“Kurenai-sensei,” he said finally, setting his cup down and rubbing at the back of his neck.
A nervous habit, she noted. One he’d have to be careful of out in the field. Kurenai merely tilted her head at him, letting her carefully constructed stream of chatter still and waited for him to continue. Patience, with all her team, was a must.
Just in different forms.
It took him awhile, but he did eventually continue. “I messed up on our last mission,” he said, turning the cup in his hands and not looking directly at her.
It had been an simple mistake, one that would’ve gone unremarked upon until they’d been back in the village had it not happened and they’d been overheard by bandits. A simple retrieval mission, a laugh at the wrong moment, and they’d had to fight their way out.
“You did,” she said mildly. She’d already brought it up for discussion with the team, this wasn’t a surprise, and she wasn’t going to mince words even though Kiba winced at it. “Not irreparably, thanks goodness.”
“Shino and Hinata kept it together,” he said slowly, as if the words were being dragged out of him. “I just fought.”
Kurenai merely watched him, her red eyes thoughtful.
“…they shouldn’t have had to be the ones to keep it all together. I should’ve helped.”
She leaned back against the couch and considered him. “What do you want to do about it?”
He was right, she wouldn’t soften that. It wasn’t her way. He’d made a mistake; he had to find his own way to fix it. She’d help, she’d suggest, but it had to be up to him.
“I’ve been… thinking about it,” came the answer, low and reluctant, “and it’s not the first time they’ve kept it all from messing up worse when I could’ve helped, is it?”
“It’s not,” she said calmly. “You have, in my own observations though, improved greatly in the time you’ve been under my command.”
Entirely the truth.
He looked pleased for a moment before deflating. Akamaru rested his head on his paws and huffed. “I need to get better at it, even with the improvements… that’s what I’ve been thinking, Kurenai-sensei. Or else… I’m going to keep screwing up and it’s eventually going to cost them bad.”
That earned him an approving nod.
“I - Kurenai-sensei, I know you’ve given me a few pointers on it before,” he took a deep breath. “Can you help me more? Hana’s done her best, but she and Mom have been too busy lately and I… don’t want to wait.”
“I’ll help,” she assured him, pleased in his initiative, once he’d trailed off. “That’s what I’m here for, right?”
He laughed.
Kurenai got up, gathering the empty cups to take to the kitchen.
“Kurenai-sensei?” Kiba said quietly. “Thanks.”
--
The water was warm and slick and wet on her skin. Ino sank into the empty hot spring with a sigh bourn entirely of delight for the temperature of it all. It had been a long busy day and she was glad of the chance to rest.
For all of the running around she’d had to do though, things had been quiet. The hitae-ite was still branded into her memory and she knew better than to think that perhaps she’d truly been mistaken and so her guard couldn’t be put down, but at the same time…
At the same time, she was only fourteen, nothing had happened in twenty-four and some odd hours, it was her first real undercover mission, and the bath was really very relaxing. Ino thought that it’d do no one any harm if she let herself just… drift amongst the water for a little bit. But just a little.
Brown hair, hers though it still struck her as odd at times--though, really, now an oddity that she was mostly accustomed to--fanned out around her as she went underwater for a space of four breaths before surfacing with a small laugh, and then reaching for the soap.
It was late, though not so late that she’d be regretting it tomorrow when she had to be up at the crack of dawn to care for the little hime, and Ino had promised Megumi-san that she’d be back in the room before midnight for sure.
Megumi-san had simply laughed at that and told her to watch out, and at the same time be glad of the energy her youth gave her.
At that, Ino had only grinned, and then headed to her current destination.
It was a relief, just being in the hot water, letting it sink into her and ease up the constant stress of having to be someone else. She didn’t know what precautions exactly that Megumi-san was taking about the Chuunin who were not, apparently, really Chuunin of Iwa despite their claims-and one of the maids had said that they had the tattoos of the Iwa nation, and wasn’t that exciting?
Ino hadn’t asked what the maid had been doing to see those tattoos - that was obvious and the very idea made her lip curl. Ew. Talk about gross. Who’d want to sleep with them? She'd reported the facts, as she'd understood them, to Megumi-san though. Ino was glad, for once, of her age in that it gave Megumi-san an excuse to publicly (well, in the servants mess hall, at least) scold her into promising that she’d not do anything so silly as all of that.
Ino was glad for small mercies. She was a loyal kunoichi, to be sure, but still--sleeping with the enemy on her first mission would’ve been far too hard.
The water was soothing, like a balm for frazzled nerves, and she couldn’t help but wonder just how long this mission would go on for. It was… well, definitely a challenge, and she knew good and well that the dye in her hair and the tan of her skin wouldn’t last forever. More than anything that meant it couldn’t be such a long time .
Otherwise, a different brand of dye would’ve been used.
Ino took solace in that. The mission, however exciting was still large and frightening in her mind and part of her, though she’d never say it aloud, wished that the rest of her team was closer.
It didn’t matter that they weren’t even all the way across town. Ino wanted them around, even if it was just to argue. A fight with Shikamaru would be nice at the moment as a way to relieve some of the stress she’d been forced to tuck under Junko-chan’s mask.
Grin and bear it.
She was getting better at that, she knew. Megumi-san had begun teaching her, furtively, a little of the hand language the more advanced operatives learned, and she knew better than to think something like that meant she was a disappointment. She wasn't.
If she’d been doing badly, well then, no doubt she’d still have learned a bit just in case, but the extra lessons in the middle of brushing her hair, or eating supper or breakfast--even during walks in the gardens where each flower had to be stopped and sniffed by Aiko-sama and Ino could only be there and try not to wince when the little girl called a violet a tulip--wouldn't have happened. It was, well, almost peaceful.
Which, she knew, was the most dangerous impression of all. But it was so hard to keep up the façade all the time and Ino found herself, without quite realizing it, humming a few bars of a song her mother had sung her when she was a child before she realized it. Small comforts.
Ino took her time in the bath, making sure to wash her hair very thoroughly and then scrub her body until it was pink and clean and she felt like she might be herself underneath all of the Junko-chan she’d been being lately. Ino wished for a fight, but knew better than to misstep that badly out of character.
Junko-chan wouldn’t, therefore she couldn’t, no matter how much she wanted to.
Clambering out of the hot spring, drying off, Ino slipped into the worn robe she’d brought with her-it was soft against her skin, if slightly too long for her height-and toweled her hair off roughly while sitting on the bench she’d put her things on while she’d bathed. It was, really, one thing to bathe, but it was another thing entirely to take your time about it and relax.
When she’d finished brushing her hair, the brown strands falling loose around her face and down her back, Ino neatly packed her basket of things away, doing a quick check to make sure that she hadn’t left anything laying around (she hadn’t) before settling the basket on her hips and heading out the of the baths.
She wasn’t going to miss Megumi-san’s deadline, she still had a solid half an hour at least and Ino was taking her time down the halls-mostly quiet now, what with the majority of the staff sleeping. It was in between shifts and the night works were just going to bed and yet too early for the day workers to be getting up.
Two shadows in front of her made her pause. Ino glanced up and forced a smile on her face, training letting her keep it looking real.
“Good evening, shinobi-san,” she said meekly as the two that guarded the Daimyo most often came down the hall in her direction. No matter, she had passed their rooms. They’d probably just finished their shifts.
“Out late?” one of them said with a laugh and her heart beat faster as she realized that two others had just stepped out from the rooms behind her. She hadn’t even heard the doors sliding open.
“Just at the baths,” she said, carefully moving to inch past them, all wide-eyed innocence and wondering, hoping like mad that she hadn’t done anything that’d have them suspect…
Her hopes were dashed with his next words.
“And where do you think you're going, Kunoichi-chan?”
Fear rang in her ears as her breathing hitched with barely suppressed panic.
Shit.
--
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