Chapter Text
His voice is rough and warm, broken shards of sunshine.
.
This story begins in the middle, in the flip of a page to reveal a blank, in the first light of dawn before sunrise, in the absence of ink in the pen scratching into paper, in the stillness between heartbeats. Kazue's reincarnation is not one of continuance. It isn't a painting being added to, or a tree being replanted, or the ever-moving cycle of shadows rotating with the sun. Kazue's reincarnation, instead, flickers like a new lamp in the roof, unfamiliar and foreign after the previous one's soft glow. It's renewal of a TV season, only with a new main character and set a number of years apart and altogether so different it turns into a new beast entirely. It's a leaky roof, a vine using other vines to climb, the dried remnants of a drink being loosened when carelessly refilled with an other.
This story begins with a girl who once was a different girl, a weak girl who didn't know how to kill, a weak girl from a strange world where people can't run up walls or spit fire with a flicker of hand seals. Kazue pities and looks down on her, in the absent way one pities a run-over squirrel for a day before forgetting all about it, nearly as much as she wonders at her. It sounds nice, not having to fight and die. It sounds nice, convening to discuss how things should be run and then putting a name on a paper and maybe having that person rule.
But things are different here, and Kazue is different to match.
Feudalism, she knows, a slip of a word that emerges from the impenetrable pit of past knowledge. It comes with the image of a castle on a hill with peasants working the fields below. Kazue has seen no such things here, she hasn't left the village and there are neither castles nor farms within the embrace of its walls, but that doesn't mean she doesn't think it true. She knows strange things from her old life: Jonagold, Granny Smith, Pink Lady apples, the character archetypes in Star Wars, the change in portrayal of women in British war propaganda, the difference between praline and manon fillings, how to calm people down from a panic attack. Some things are useful. She can safely bet that the kid in the year below has ADHD, even though this world has no such concepts beyond "this person struggles to read yet can count well, maybe something other than stupidity is going on here"; she can be grateful shinobi have no guns, because clearly there'd be ten times as many massacres because things like human rights and war crimes are tenuous at best since they don't actually have agreed upon documents and meetings about such trivial, civilian things; she has the expected ease with memorization and mathematics and anything that requires patience, which means even languages end up coming easy to her. Other things are less useful. What is she to do with the knowledge of what frequency her cat meowed at when it was hungry versus in search for cuddles, or the rules of traffic and driving, or how to do well on Rainbow Road?
Some awed by the shadow of impostor wisdom, think her a genius, like her brother and father. Others only think her smart, as a Nara should be, and particularly, peculiarly intuitive. Fitting, they inevitably add, for a woman.
Kazue was born first.
Shikamaru, a year and a half her junior, stands to inherit.
It's not like daughters never take up the mantle of Clan Head. Some progressive ones let the firstborn inherit no matter the sex; the Yamanakas, since long, and more recently the Hyuuga and Aburame and Izuno, though the Hyuuga probably only changed it because the main branch only has daughters this generation. The Inuzuka are matrilineal, and as unwilling to change that as most patrilineal clans are unwilling to change their own ways. She thinks it should go to the firstborn out of justice, but she balks at being Clan Head. Too much work, too great a burden. How is she meant to deal with the things she cares about if she has to sit in long meetings with elders and officials about decorum and tradition? She cares for power insomuch that it's useful, not in and of itself. Shikaku considered changing the Nara inheritance laws when Kazue was but a flutter in Yoshino's stomach. He didn't. She didn't even get a Shika- name to boast of, not even the possibility of heirship at birth. (She would make a good Shikara, as much trouble as it entails.) Yoshino refused. That's for the generation after them, she insisted, I want my daughter to grow up spoiled and happy, I want to teach my daughter what clothes are good and what naming conventions to use for her own children, I want my daughter to reach Chuunin and marry peacefully and know a life of plenty and riches instead of eternal burden. Let justice come for our grandchildren, but save my daughter from it.
She has a way of almost making it sound noble, especially when half an apology softens the corners of her eyes and affectionate assurance laces her voice. Yoshino knows she robbed Kazue, just as she reasons she gave her a chance at a different life. Kazue would resent her, except she's not given to such emotions. Perhaps, had she been born Shikara and been dangled the possibility of inheriting instead of it never being offered in the first place, the idea of it being taken would anger her.
(Would anger her more-)
Instead, Kazue goes to the Academy, where she does as well as she likes and has teachers sighing with the same exasperation they experience with every clever Nara. Tired, at the end of their wits, not actually upset because Nara hate trouble and that includes being overly troublesome. She has some friends, a little less than average since she's that odd blend of actual child and old-soul-in-young-body, but enough that nobody worries. She appreciates Tenten, who's chattier and unguarded but otherwise pragmatic and steady, not one to nag or need nagging. There's no benefit to befriending her, a clanless orphan with talents that eke out barely above average, but Kazue likes Tenten more than her other friends. There's Masuyo, who's quiet and smart and should probably learn to say no before it gets her into trouble, and Takeshi, who's reckless and fierce and should probably stop saying no as often as he does before he gets irreversibly on people's (including Kazue's) nerves. She's never invited them over, even if Masuyo's from an offshoot family of the Senju Clan and Takeshi is a Sarutobi. The only classmate aside from Tenten she's taken to the Nara compound is Hyuuga Neji, but that's just because they are paired together for projects. They work well together, quick-witted and analytical and not particularly talkative. She likes thinking she's one of the few people Neji respects, but doesn't know for sure. He ground her to dust in taijutsu with extraordinary brutality only yesterday. Most other girls in class worry about what Neji thinks of them, but Kazue doesn't really care. His attitude is all cuts and bruises and jabs, the result of being both elevated and abused by his conservative clan, and reeks of trouble. Best not to get emotionally invested.
There are people worse than him. Nao is an idiot, the same brand that flies have when they circle endlessly in a room without realizing the exit is open, and that's something she can't stomach. Rock Lee has a similar problem, unacademic and single-minded to the point of ignorance, but at least possesses heart and spirit. Kimiko, the scion of a civilian merchant clan, is so stuck up Kazue expects she'll soon float to the ceiling.
Kazue knows Shikamaru has, similarly, analyzed and categorized his classmates.
(He told her, that's how she knows, but she suspected before, because she's a good older sister and watches over her brother and one day Clan Head, and that means she's watched him watch them, all the while Yoshino watches her, keen to make sure she does something more useful with her time than build landscape models or nap, and people watching is absolutely useful.)
Becoming a nin is demanded of Nara men. It's expected of her, too, especially since it's become clear Shadow Style comes easy to her, but one day she'll retire to take care of children and politics. And. It's not like she wants to spend her whole life risking her neck in the field, but life is about timings and the timings of that retirement don't allow for much flexibility. At least she can make the match herself, as long as she's not stupid about it. (And Kazue can't stand stupidity, so that's not a problem.) An issue for later.
She looks at Shikamaru across the landscape emerging on her desk. He's pretending to read, eyes staring blankly at the corner of a page. The Nara mind is as much as blessing as a curse, the endless thoughts and observations and questions need time to settle and breathe (and give birth to new ones in the moments of calm that are as necessary as air), otherwise they race on endlessly, loop back around, twist and turn into headaches. She understands him.
"Pass me the green paint," she tells him.
"Which one?"
He doesn't look away from the corner of the page, which seems to be universes away from him.
"Olive green, the one labeled #002372, has a spot on the lid, should be on the floor by the left table leg."
He slides it over. Her landscape is still but grays and whites and blank space. The ridges and rivers are formed from the clay, the unpainted trees wait in a box by her side.
"I prefer the seas," Shikamaru says, then.
He's never seen seas. She has, but hasn't. There are books, and old memories of impossible amounts of salty water. It's kind of crazy.
"I did one with a beach last week. I want to try the forests in the Land of Waterfalls this time. They're called jungles, and are nothing like the forests here. They're far more humid and dense, with plants growing on trees and water tumbling through it like veins."
He hums, doesn't ask, she tells him more anyway. It isn't until all the basecoats are applied and Yoshino shouts that it's time to eat dinner and they better not be late and let it grow cold, that he closes his book and asks:
"Are some people not taught how to read?"
Kazue smiles, sugary and pleased, just to let him know she's been waiting for him to spill. He scowls.
"Sure," she says. "Some can't afford it."
"But everyone is given five years of free education. From seven to twelve."
There's the Academy for ninja hopefuls, and public schools for civilians unable to hire tutors or afford one of the three illustrious private schools.
"It doesn't matter if it's free if nobody can take the kid to school, or needs the kid's help at home. Most send them to school the first years, but from age ten it's increasingly common keep them at home, then they can do chores and watch over babies or even help a parent with work."
"That stunts them and their potential," he notes. They have the same dark, thin eyes, and the way they narrow when speculating is identical. "What a shortsighted thing for a guardian to do."
Kazue shrugs. "It's one of the main counter-arguments brought up when Tou-san debates the welfare state in the Council. The poor are poor due to their own choice: they don't have the mental capacity to realize they're hindering their children, and since the children inherit their minds and receive little to no education, they too reject offers from the upper classes to improve their own kids and thus continue the cycle."
"That's a stupid argument."
"For sure," Kazue agrees with feeling. Her past incarnation may not be impressive by shinobi standards, but she'd been well-read and kind-hearted. One of those is more useful than the other to Kazue. "Doesn't mean it's not a widespread one. It's easier to blame somebody for their misfortune than do something about it. The poor are poor because, long ago, it was those with less strength and intelligence ended up at the bottom of the ladder, and because they only had each other to marry, their descendants are prone to similar weaknesses and are thus unable, and unfit, to advance in society. That's what it comes down to."
Shikamaru, all of eleven years old, rolls his eyes and sighs like a weary old man.
"Ugh," he says with bland, tired revulsion, "that's such a painfully obvious angle. It justifies inequality by not only putting down the unfortunate, but elevates and glorifies the fortunate in the same breath. Any attempt to discredit it is countered by arguments of natural emergence and of inherent differences in value. Predictable."
Kazue doesn't say that they benefit from it as well. Shikamaru knows. It'd be troublesome to lose their favorable position in society.
Yoshino's voice drifts upstairs, sharpened with annoyance: "Come downstairs!"
Shikamaru shouts back that they're coming, but before they leave her room, Kazue pokes his shoulder.
"Why did you ask?"
He mulls it over, rubs his face. His posture screams 'it's none of my business, so why do I bother to care', but he admits:
"There's an orphan kid in my class."
"Ah." Kazue understands. Tenten isn't the only orphan in her class. "They do have teachers at the orphanages. They may not be much good, there's too few of them for too many kids of different ages, but they're available and should be able to cover the basics."
Shikamaru mulls this over, and Kazue pauses. She'd been about to put away her landscaping tools, but her little brother is looking not just pensive but perturbed. Has she missed something?
"There is," he begins, and clicks his tongue. "In my class, there's this one kid... It's worse, for him. I didn't notice before, he's loud and annoying and we don't really speak much, but we have a new sensei. He does assigned seating. I'm behind the kid, now."
"The kid," Kazue can't help commenting, "is your age."
Shikamaru shrugs this away. There are times she's wondered if he, too, has remnants of a past life clinging to his soul. Other than his intellect and old-soul grouch, she has little evidence of this. Her running theory is that souls are recycled and reused, and that hers hadn't been wholly washed clean when being shoved into this body. Bits and pieces linger, leftovers, not quite moldy. What luck to be born into the one clan where this would be overlooked. Exceptional minds, whatever shape or form, are the norm. Even Yoshino has her own shining talent, a knack for code and language that would put computers to shame.
"Naruto," he says, and she pauses again. This time he notices. It's not a subtle pause. "Whenever we're told to read a section in class, he only understands the bits written in hiragana. That's... not a lot."
"He's in his second to last year," Kazue blurts out, eyebrows rising. "How's he passed so far?"
"Barely." Shikamaru rubs his face again. He clearly doesn't want to get into any sort of mess, like her, but similarly like her, he has that tinge of empathy that sometimes overrides cold logic and realism (and laziness). "Nobody likes him. Some ignore him, others treat him like he's got the flu, a few yet like he's brandishing a kunai in their face. I don't think whoever teaches at his orphanage gave him the basics, and I don't think the Chuunin at the Academy made an effort to help him catch up, like they do with others."
"He's mistreated," Kazue acknowledges. It took her a while to notice (if he hadn't been in her brother's class she might only begin noticing now), but his clothes are shabby, his grammar wonky, his tact lacking, his lunches dismal. His guardians missing. A helping hand, absent. She didn't think it was so bad that even teachers disliked him, however. There are plenty of dirt poor orphans throwing themselves into the ninja world in search for escape, and though they aren't as prized as clan kids, they aren't treated as scourges either. Bodies are bodies. "I didn't realize it extended to authority figures. I thought it was just civilian adults. You know how they can get."
Bad reputations are bad reputations are bad reputations. Clans could be much the same, except the criticism are of different things.
"Yeah."
"So?"
He looks at her questioningly.
"So," she says with tauntingly clear enunciation, "what are you going to do about it?"
"He's a bother," Shikamaru answers unwillingly, "but he deserves a chance at graduating."
His jaw is set.
"I'VE SPENT TOO LONG PREPARING THIS MEAL FOR YOU TO LET IT GROW COLD AND SOGGY!" Yoshino roars up the stairs. "COME DOWN BEFORE I USE YOU AS INGREDIENTS!"
.
Uzumaki Naruto is a weird case. She doesn't approach straight away. Neither does Shikamaru. Uzumaki has too much of a presence for her never to have noticed him before, both on account of his exuberance and because of the frigidity surrounding him, but it's never been her business before. She wonders if that's cold of her, then decides it isn't. That'd make the whole village cold, and even if that's the case, the fact that she's acting now makes her positively warm.
"You hate charity," Tenten notes when Kazue floats an idea to her friend. "You always say they tackle symptoms instead of the cause."
"But I am treating the cause. He can't read, so he struggles in class, so he gets even louder and more prone to disruptive pranks, so his classmates like him even less, so his behavior gets worse and he pays even less attention. I teach him the basics, and tada. Shikamaru says he's driven. He'll manage from there."
"The cause is village-wide neglect," Tenten points out, swinging her legs under the branch they're sitting on. The playground sprawls wide and busy beneath them. Uzumaki is somewhere on the far end, gawking at a slug. "You said so yourself. You've observed, analyzed, and concluded. What you're doing is charity."
Kazue stares at her friend. She likes Tenten for being grounded and on the lazy side of fair, and now here she is, being ambitious.
"Are you suggesting I turn my attention and efforts to the village as a whole, and tackle complex, far-reaching issues of neglect I am not willing, able, or old enough to delve into?"
Tenten pouts. It's not the pout she has when Kazue steals dessert, but the involuntary one that climbs bitterly up her face when Kazue speaks like the only daughter of a highly respected leader.
"No," she denies, "I'm just saying... It's still charity."
Kazue flashes a crooked little smile and nudges Tenten. "Well, I've never had the strongest principles. Charity it is."
Her friend sighs dramatically, pout slipping. She probably never realized it was there, and Kazue isn't going to tell her. She likes being able to read people, including friends, especially friends.
"Easy for you to say, you're going to make others do it for you soon enough."
"Of course. Uzumaki isn't in my year. He's their problem."
They watch the churn of children on the playground in silence. Below them are fragile little first years, round-cheeked and soft-limbed and innocent, all gritty fingers and stained shirts and buoyant laughter. Two clan children are among them. One's an Akimichi, so she'll probably keep laughing like that, but the other is a Hyuuga. Manners and rigidity will freeze it out of him. The Nara are considered laid back, but decorum matters to anybody with political awareness (oh, the Nara have plenty of that) and so Kazue wonders if she was nine or ten when she began acting more appropriately in public. It's not a huge difference, but shrieking laughter or annoyed whining or generally uncomposed behavior is slowly, steadily, firmly whittled away.
Kazue is grateful. She hates not feeling in control.
"I'm gonna play tag," Tenten speaks up. The boys in their year are gathering into teams over by the low hill. One or two girls are joining as well. Tenten's laziness lies in persistence, not in energy. "You coming?"
Kazue's laziness lies in energy, though.
"No. I'll start with my charity project."
"Good luck," Tenten grins teasingly, but she's sincere when she says: "I hope it works out."
Then she jumps down, lithe as a last year should be, and runs off to the gathering teams of tag, shouting that she wants to be one of the hunters.
Kazue remains on the branch a little longer, idly watching the first years roughhouse, and then leaps down with a grunt. Time to get this over with. It's a warm day, if she stays outside any longer she'll get sleepy and she's already been scolded once today for drifting off.
Some recognize her when she passes, stepping out of the way for their upperclassman, while others are too caught up in their games. She takes note of Ino with her posse, raising a hand when the blond gives her a cheery wave, and of Haruno with a literature book beneath the maple tree, and of Aburame in the shade of the outhouse. Chouji and Shikamaru are nowhere to be found. Typical.
You're lucky I'm such an amazing sister, Kazue thinks grimly. I'm just the spare heir, overcome with female empathy, making nice with a clearly abused kid. If a clan heir started hanging out with somebody being ill treated by near half a million people, that could draw attention, and attention's best spared for after graduation. But she's probably reading into it. Kazue hopes nothing deep is going on here. There's always somebody at the bottom of the pecking order. That's just reality.
(But it was just so...)
(There's a reason neither she nor Shikamaru approached immediately. Always observe first. And what she observed was way too many shinobi glaring at Naruto.)
"You," she says, "Uzumaki."
Uzumaki Naruto whirls around. He's short and tanned, with a head of tangled gold and large blue eyes and an aquiline nose. Bits of old knowledge make her think he looks Californian, a strange appearance for such an Asian-coded society. First he's curious, then he's guarded, then, once noting her frown's the bland, perpetual kind instead of pointed specifically at him, he relaxes enough to say:
"Who're you? Whatcha want?"
His voice is rough and warm, broken shards of sunshine.
"Nara Kazue. My younger brother is a classmate of yours."
The guarded look returns.
"I haven't pranked Shikamaru at all this month I swear. Well, I mean, there was that thingy at lunch last week but I was aimin' for Ino, she's mean, y'know, not Shikamaru, Shikamaru's just sorta weird and spacey, I didn't mean to cover him in stinky old milk! He wasn't that angry at me I swear, just the normal angry-"
Sage. He has a mouth on him.
"That's fine," Kazue interrupts and tries her least thin and thorny smile. "I'm actually here to help devise a study plan."
His eyes open wide, as does his mouth. Kazue can see remains of his lunch between his teeth. Yikes. It takes him a while to formulate a response, first pinching himself and glancing around suspiciously to make sure this is neither a dream nor a prank. She waits in heavy silence.
"Y-you are?" He's still staring. "That's so- why? I... I don't need your help, I mean it's super duper nice but it's okay! I'm gonna be Hokage one day, I don't need someone to glue me to a desk like Iruka-sensei says he'll do and make me look at stupid boring papers nobody cares 'bout anyway!"
"The why," Kazue says, "is because you're failing-" not technically, but it's such a fine line for him he might as well be, "-and the fact that you struggle in lessons makes it difficult for your classmates to focus and means you're likelier to die if you somehow graduate. Shikamaru told me."
"Shikamaru makes it sound like I suck!" Uzumaki exclaims.
"You do."
His stare turns into a glare. His fists tremble with disappointment more than offense. "Kazue-nee is a mean cow."
"Yes," she agrees, unimpressed. She's seen clansmen return from missions, missing pieces of mind or body, seen graves sprout from the earth, seen wives break down in front of their children when told a husband was tortured to death. She's made it her business to watch everybody, as she will one day watch them to guard Shikamaru's back once he's her lord as much as her brother. "Moo. I'm trying to give you a chance at help. Take it or leave it, it's your choice. If you want to be Hokage you must prove yourself in the eyes of everyone else, and being able to read more than children's lullabies will help that-"
Uzumaki flinches, and something within her winces.
"-so I'd take this chance, if I were you. It's the best way to grow strong. You know the three weapons any shinobi is born with, don't you?"
She knows he knows. They've been drilled on it two days ago. Chouji talked about it when coming over for dinner. He's far more communicative than Shikamaru.
"Yeah, 'course! Chakra, body, and mind."
"Good." She attempts another smile, which is easy at the way he startles and preens at the morsel of praise. It's kind of sad. "You have enough chakra, or you wouldn't be so energetic after three hours of ninjutsu practice. You have a strong body, or you'd be bruised and limping after losing so badly to Uchiha-kun yesterday afternoon-"
"Hey!"
"-but your weakness lies in training your mind. If you neglect training any of one of those three, you will never be Hokage-"
"I will be Hokage one day-"
"Sure, but only after you learn to read and write properly, and the sooner the better. Start now and you should be alright for your exams." They're only four months from now, and learning to read takes time, but it will make a difference. "You won't even have to worry much about graduation exams next year. Reading will take way less time by then, which means you can spend more time doing things you actually like. Like, uh. Play ninja."
He's still tense, but it's easy to see how the idea slowly worms its way into his heart. He likes the idea of not being left behind, and likes the idea of having extra play time. He licks his lips, scratches his chin, darts another look around.
"Why," he asks again.
"So you can live," she repeats, growing impatient. "So that your classmates can open textbooks without worrying you glued them shut-"
"No, why are you helpin' me," Uzumaki says, no hint of accusation, only overwhelming confusion. "I barely ever bother Shikamaru, and it's not like he ever studies anyway, he's always sleepin', the lazy- Aaaanyway, I don't think I stopped him in class any time ever at all, y'know, so helpin' me isn't gonna help your brother. He's just broken, not even Iruka-sensei can make him pay attention in class."
Kazue wonders how often parents berate Uzumaki for daring to be the clown of their child's class.
"Shikamaru asked," she tells him honestly. "Just because you're not friends doesn't mean he can't think you deserve a place at the start line."
Uzumaki swallows thickly, clasping his hands tightly. His surprise now is entirely different from before; subdued and vulnerable, a rabbit out after dark.
"...he did?"
"Sure did. You in or not?"
Uzumaki, after recovering from the new phenomenon known as human decency, is wholly and enthusiastically in. It takes Kazue a while to compose him to the point of being organized enough to agree to meet twice a week for an hour after school. It'll be a bother, but hopefully by the end of the month she'll have roped a few select classmates of his into the scheme and she can drop this time-consuming project that's making her even more critical of Konohagakure than she was before. Being too critical is dangerous, not for the thoughts (no, those are good, those are necessary for change), but for the emotions they might stir up. Strong emotions get people killed.
.
"Why do people hate Uzumaki Naruto?" Kazue asks at dinner the day before her first lesson with the loudmouth. She's already put a basic dictionary in her schoolbag in preparation, suspecting she'll need it when going over his classes. "It's weird. It's like everybody decided to make him the burnboy of the work floor."
"You shouldn't know what a burnboy is," Yoshino says between dainty bites, large black eyes narrowing.
Shikaku drags his gaze across the table. It's been a long day at work, but he could come home for dinner which means it wasn't a terrible one.
"Does this have to do with why my son took a scroll on defensive taijutsu kata that he has no personal interest in?"
Shikamaru's quick glance up from his plate isn't guilty, but it's telling nonetheless.
"Probably." Kazue hadn't know he'd stolen that. Something tells her it's not for Naruto, however, but for one of the four people she hopes will take over tutoring him. Considering the material he's taken as bribery, she can narrow it down to two of them.
"I made sure it was nothing classified," Shikamaru assures by way of apology. "One could find the same forms in the public library, only on less fancy paper."
"If one knew, specifically, where to look," Shikaku sighs, sinewy frame slumping. His children take after him greatly, all angles and darkness and severity. Shikamaru has hints of Yoshino's oval face, however, and Kazue the color of her mother's eyes. "Do with it what you wish. I trust I won't be disappointed by a suddenly developed streak of carelessness."
"Hah. Of course not," Kazue drawls, selecting more fried eel from the communal plate in the middle of the table.
"Uzumaki," Shikamaru reminds his parents. They don't answer straight away.
"It's certainly notable, how such a large percentage of the shinobi population shun him," Shikaku settles on. He looks over their heads, to the alcohol cabinet, like he really just wants to nurse their strongest sake and sleep twelve hours (and maybe with his wife) and not have to deal with the shady circumstances his children are nosing into.
"Why?"
Yoshino purses her lips, displeased. "You're asking dangerous questions."
"So it's restricted," Kazue says.
"Orders from high up," Shikamaru surmises, nodding.
How strange.
"What that boy needs is a friend," Yoshino tells them sternly, "not trouble."
"If he needs a friend, why has nobody been that person to him," wonders Shikamaru. He looks bored, but his eyes are on his plate and he's leaning his head on one hand. Kazue thinks that as the situation unfolds before their eyes, he's beginning to feel guilty for not helping his classmate in the four years they've known each other.
"Why didn't you," Shikaku counters evenly.
"I didn't like him. He's loud, and annoying, and not very smart. He's not all bad, though. Not everyone has to like him, but nobody should hate him. Not like so many seem to do. It's weird."
"Some people are dealt a worse fate than others," Yoshino says shortly. "Eat your vegetables, children."
"But why," Shikamaru begins again.
"Quiet, you," Yoshino waves her chopsticks at him. "Have manners and listen to your mother. I have enough to do without having you play at T&I at my table. It's bad enough when Inoichi-kun comes over and talks about psychotic breaks. Let's not speak of Uzumaki."
Shikaku pulls an expression. It's quick and complicated and small, but nobody misses it. They're Nara. Even Yoshino, being from a distant branch. She's better with squiggles than people, but she knows Shikaku well.
"Darling," he says with caution and discomfort.
"Don't you dare-" Yoshino catches herself. She scolds her husband all the time, but not the Jounin Commander, never the Jounin Commander. Something about the way she said that makes Kazue think it wasn't a 'we're meant to be on the same side' but rather a 'you try that now after I'm doing what I was told?' Told by who? Shikaku must be in on it, he's in on nearly everything in Konoha. Otherwise she wouldn't look so personally offended. "They're children."
"Uzumaki's a child," Kazue points out.
"And he'll be one a while longer, as will you," she responds stiffly.
"You will understand, in due time," Shikaku tells his children. "Shikamaru, Uzumaki is in your class. That kind of thing never fully fades. The time will come when you will be comrades, side by side in service of the village, and the past lays forgotten behind you. One day, Uzumaki will be treated as any other ninja, and you will have responsibilities greater than you can imagine. Those demand difficult decisions, and compliance that, as hard as it may be to maintain at times, is what keeps us from fracturing. Only when we are strong, together, can we create something better."
There's a lot going on there, a lot he wants them to understand about Uzumaki's situation. Kazue takes it as endorsement that they're doing the right thing, even if her parents basically confirmed that Uzumaki's treatment wasn't some cosmically horrendous fluke. The fact that chaotic, straightforward Uzumaki is somehow tied to a village gag-order, even if only indirectly (surely it has to be indirectly, or by circumstance, considering his young age), is deeply unnerving. Mysteries usually taste of adult worries or layered drama and delicious puzzles, but this one tastes of ash and tears. Kazue is grateful she doesn't have the tools to dig into it.
.
Uzumaki is a terrible student. No, that's a lie. Uzumaki is not a student she's equipped to handle. Her suspicion that he has ADHD is all but confirmed, which she solves as best as possible by indulging his tangents and rants and, every now and then, in an increasingly strained and exhausted voice, asking him to write down the key points to what he just said. The notes quickly go from information about the Second Hokage's reign to ugly scribbles about fancy clans, to winter coats, to heating in winter, to snowball fights, to beating Uchiha, to being Hokage (here Kazue manages to circle back to Senju Tobirama), to how pretty Sakura is, to how dumb Kiba is, to how not-so-super-weird Shikamaru is after all, to if Kazue will be an assistant when Uzumaki becomes Hokage because she's got pretty handwriting and could therefore hand out mission scrolls to everyone. It's a strange scattering of kanji, most of them written twice or thrice on her insistence, usually with much help from the dictionary.
"Keep it," she tells him when he tries to give the book back. "We've got another two copies at home."
This makes him quite emotional, but not as emotional as he got when she handed him oranges. Oranges are expensive, which means he probably doesn't eat them much. Plus, they're orange. That horrendous color appeals to him. The dictionary isn't quite so attractive in comparison, clearly.
"Keep this, too," she adds, and hands him a blank notebook. "Use it to take notes. New kanji, ideas for when you become Hokage, anything like that. It's good practice."
He becomes emotional over this too, and Kazue flees before he can worm his way into her heart. She's only got so many places in there, and considering she hasn't even been assigned her future teammates and sensei yet, she should probably save some space.
Down the staircase, up the fire escape zigzagging along the wall. The sun's warm, even as winter approaches. People say it'll snow this time, something that only happens every three or four years, but Kazue has her doubts. She doesn't even need a jacket, long sleeves are enough.
Up on the roof, which has a spectacular view of the nearby districts and fiery-leafed trees, lays Shikamaru. Chouji's next to him, reading a manga about space cats.
"First lesson's done," she says, nudging her brother with her foot. "You're right, there's hope for him. You better do your part, though."
Shikamaru peers up at her, squinting against the sun.
"Yeah, yeah. You'd make my life hell if I didn't."
She can tell he's relieved, though, especially when he hides his face by resting an arm over his eyes to block out the light.
"Of course I would," she agrees. "You made me set this whole thing up. You're lucky I'm a spectacular person, or I'd have made you do the whole thing on your own. I'll be disappointed with you if you drop the ball once I'm done with this month."
"Don't worry, we can handle it," Chouji says, smiling kindly. "Thank you for the help. We managed to convince Shino to help, but the others will take a bit more work."
"That's a good start," she nods.
Shino is smart and patient, but he won't be enough to keep Naruto studying. Their personalities are too different. Still, that's two hours a month taken care of. Shikamaru and Chouji will take another two. Then there's Haruno Sakura, most intelligent of the kunoichi in her year, and Hyuuga Hinata, who's the only person with a genuine fondness for Uzumaki. Considering everyone's ages, she doesn't doubt half the lessons will wind up being youthful chatter, but it should help. Aburame will do well to keep on track, and once Haruno gets roped into it, Kazue has high hopes for her, too. Who knows about the Hyuuga heiress: she's so meek Kazue's own Hyuuga could kill her with a glare, but it's worth a shot. Shikamaru and Chouji are too laid back, but they will at least serve to keep an eye on Naruto's progress.
"It's weird," Chouji says. "I mean, I knew he wasn't liked, but it's strange how far this goes, isn't it?"
They don't answer. They've been thinking the same. Chouji knows the Nara enough to understand their silence.
"It kind of makes me feel like..." He weighs his words and emotions. "Like there's something out there, greater than us, that we accidentally tripped over. He's just Naruto, which makes this whole thing even stranger, because somehow he's part of a major secret."
Shikamaru frowns. "He must've watched a war hero be assassinated. Somehow it got out that he hid instead of shouting for help, and now he's hated."
"Hmm. Makes sense," Chouji bobs his head.
It's one of Kazue's theories, too. "Remember six years ago, when things were finally going back to normal after the Third Shinobi War, and suddenly there was a terrible case of chakra pathway infections? Maybe he was the one who carried the virus first. Obviously the village doesn't want that coming out, because obviously he'd be hated for something he can't help, and so obviously every adult knows."
They theorize for a bit, but the whole thing feels surreal and invisible. There's a ghost in the air, but it doesn't care for them and remains out of reach. They're insignificant. Maybe Naruto (when did he become Naruto) is insignificant, too, just an unfortunate soul. That doesn't mean he doesn't deserve a bit of kindness in the form of a chance.
"Think of it this way," Kazue tells them significantly before they can get any ideas about being detectives. "We've found a withering sapling. We give it a bit of water, a bit of light, but now it has to grow on its own. Years from now it may be strong enough to carry fruit, and maybe it'll share it with us. We leave it be, for now. On the off chance something greater is going on here and he's not just an unfortunate passerby, we're in way over our heads. Some things are for later."
Shikamaru removes the arm from his face and smiles like dry, cracked earth:
"Your sensei got to you, Kazue-nee. You used a tree metaphor."
Kazue pinches him, and Chouji laughs.
"Oi!"
They turn around. Tenten appears at the side of the roof where the fire escape starts, heaves herself up, and jogs over. She's sweaty, but not out of breath. She must've been playing the hour Kazue spent in the study room with Naruto.
"How long have you been up here, I waited for you for ages," she accuses, cheeks puffed out. "Ugh, no, never mind. How'd it go?"
"It went alright. He's ditzy, but not stupid."
"Well, that's a solid start," she decides and plonks down next to Kazue. "Heya, Chouji, Shikamaru."
"Hi, Tenten-san," beams Chouji. Tenten's always extra nice to him because he, a clan heir, calls her Tenten-san. Kazue would do that too, except Tenten often calls her Kazushit. "How are you?"
"Great, as always, except Kazushit left me for dead waiting outside."
"You seem to have found ways to distract yourself," Kazue points out, unconcerned. "I take it Takeshi and Masuyo went home?"
"Ten minutes ago," confirms Tenten. "Masuyo sucks at capture the flag, but Takeshi's a good teammate. He's not afraid to fight Lee, even if Lee's insane."
"Did you win?"
Tenten has to consider this. "I think so. It got rather unclear towards the end. Nao knocked himself out and Inuzuka wanted to take credit for it, which Takeshi thought was stupid, and then they fought. It became a brawl when Lee joined. Boys are stupid."
"I live to disprove that," Shikamaru says, yawning. "Out of spite."
"You barely live," criticizes Tenten unmaliciously, eyeing his prone form. "Anyway, Chouji-kun, how was your day?"
As he talks about the day's bento and how Iruka-sensei made learning geography fun and easy, Kazue lays down next to her brother. She lets silence grow before asking:
"The scroll. Who is it for?"
She can't see his face, having closed her eyes to enjoy the year's last warm sun, but she can hear a defeated smile in his voice.
"Haruno. It was easy to convince Shino, he's logical and it only makes sense to make sure a potential future teammate can read mission instructions. She'll take more work, though, which is a pity, because she'd be best at teaching Naruto. She's intelligent and creative, but also stubborn and temperamental enough to make him work. She hates him though. Luckily, she loves Sasuke more than she hates Naruto."
Uchiha, Kazue has gathered, is the (impossibly) even more popular version of Neji in the year below. He's a shade closer to cute than handsome, but being less talkative means he's belittled less of his fanbase.
"She's always trying to impress him," Shikamaru goes on, sighing at the memories. He sounds done with her already. "So that's my angle. She thinks it's stuff like long hair, pretty clothes, and eloquent answers that'll catch his attention. Hm, well, maybe the last one's not too bad. Anyway, I'm going to tell her it's by being strong. His clan died, of course he'd want his future wife to be able to survive anything. So, defensive kata."
"A little coldly put, don't you think," comments Chouji mildly. He and Tenten caught the last bit.
"No less true," Kazue says carelessly. "Good job. What's your plan for Hinata-kun?"
"She'll certainly say yes," he begins, and Tenten snorts. She's heard all about Hinata's floundering crush. "The question is if she can stick to it. I don't know her well, but that doesn't mean I want her to faint on her way to the study room."
"She'll probably faint." Chouji's void of judgement, as always, the angel. "Maybe I should come with her the first few times, offer to sit next to Naruto so she can pretend she's giving the explanations to me. I don't think she's as scared of me as she's of you, Shika."
Shikamaru blinks up at him.
"I'm not scary."
Kazue flicks his forehead. Her brother's lacking self-awareness isn't as cute as it had been three years ago.
"I can be scary," she explains, lips stretching to flash teeth, "so you can be scary. Besides, you're a clan heir, and always calm, except for flashes of irritation. She knows what the first bit means, and is intimidated by the second bit. Her father's always calm and composed, except for when he's irritated at her."
Shikamaru pinions her with a dark, narrowed look. "Are you saying I'm like Hiashi-dono?"
"In the same way tomatoes and beets are both red, sure."
"You're the beet," Tenten adds.
Shikamaru cranes his neck from where he rests, first dragging his glare from Kazue to Tenten, and then relaxes when he looks over at his best friend.
"I think that's a good idea, Chouji. You should probably be the one to ask her."
The matter settled, and the sun beginning to fade and allow fall cold to creep in, they make themselves scarce from the roof.
"See you tomorrow!" shouts Tenten, waving as she heads in the direction of the village center. She'll pass through it and keep heading into the working class district, where she resides in a large orphanage with allotted clothing and regulated food portions. "Don't be late again!"
Kazue waves back and sticks her tongue out. She's never late, thanks, just never early. Tenten laughs, and then she's gone. The three clan children head the opposite way, towards the part of the village that's all sprawling compounds and wide, clean streets. Most clans reside there. Some prefer living in the city, like the Yamanaka, or the lone Hatake, but officially they have residences there too. On one end, the furthest from the village, are the walled-off remains of the Uchiha compound. It's the second largest, but easily the most rife with buildings; a ghost town haunted by cruelty, one young clan children are beginning to dare each other to enter. The third largest, yet by far most luxurious and traditional, is the Hyuuga compound, located near the entrance to the district as thought to set the tone. They pass it while talking about the festival from two weeks ago, which celebrates the vanquishment of the Kyuubi. Ino tripped into a vat of fish oil when showing off her dance moves. It was a good night. The conversation ends when they reach the Akimichi gates, which stand between the honorary, empty Yamanaka ones and the distant red torii of the Nara.
"See you tomorrow," he grins, "don't forget to help Yoshino-san with the dishes."
Kazue and Shikamaru don't hurry away, fleeing from friends is a waste of energy, but they make sure not to linger. Going through the red gates, they are engulfed by ancient trees. Most of the forest grows behind the compound, vast and old and shadowed, but the clan kept a strip in the front to hide their buildings. It is the forest that makes the Nara compound the largest, even though their clan is neither the richest nor the most populous. The first gate is the only bit of bright color: the second gate leading into the actual compound is silvery gray and engraved with images of the first Nara strangling their enemies with darkness. (One might say Nara weren't always mediators.)
"Ensui-nii-san," Kazue greets, nodding.
"Ensui," greets Shikamaru, who never had to be as courteous as his sister.
Ensui, who isn't their brother, or even their cousin, but Shikaku's maternal aunt's grandson, stands unevenly from the hammock he'd been resting in. He was put on medical leave a month ago and has another two months to go (regrowing half a lung and letting chakra nodes heal does that), and has been teaching Kazue Shadow Style in preparation for her Genin days. Shikamaru, a year younger, gets away with only having to meditate and extend chakra into his shadow, which he doesn't need supervision for.
(Yoshino supervises anyway while she keeps the household in order and finances in check and lethal gossip in hand, because otherwise he'd slack off.)
"Kazue-kun," he hums. "You're later than I expected."
"I said I'd be late, Ensui-nii-san, so I am."
He observes her like she's dragged trouble with her, picking her apart and deciding if whatever she's done is contagious or not, before nodding and gesturing for her to follow. They head to one of the gardens between the high houses, belonging to the Clan Head and closest kin, and the rest of the clan, who certainly don't live in squalor either. Low, irregular walls just up from the earth, overgrown with vines blooming blue and white and dull purple. The remnants of earth jutsu used in battle during the Warring States Era, something most clans smoothen out with further earth jutsu but the Nara prefer to keep as ominous, Yamanaka flower-covered reminders of what society is built on.
Kazue makes to grab one of the comfortable tortoises wandering the pale grasses with her shadow, when Ensui shakes his head.
"They're easy targets. Try to catch me, now."
Kazue's alarm and dismay are nakedly visible, she knows. Shadow Style is tricky, not in the least because she has to infuse chakra into something that, by the laws of science, isn't actually a thing but rather the absence of light. Reincarnation didn't help that head-scratcher. The reason she's known to have an aptitude for it is because, when first beginning to stretch a shadow out, most struggle to attach it to the target's shadow and thus make it freeze. Hers is the opposite. Shadow Possession is used to entrap, which means it needs to be sneaky, and it's not very sneaky when every single shadow it touches on its way towards a turtle stops moving. Some very strange, frozen grass amidst a shifting meadow. The enemy would realize what was happening from miles away.
"You've got four months until graduation," Ensui tells her. "It's a pain, I know, but going out there as a Nara with only half a shadow jutsu is more of a pain. Trust me. It's gotten clansmen killed."
"Well, when you put it that way."
She moves through the hand signs with ease, the result of playing games meant to improve finger dexterity since being a toddler, and her shadow comes to life, darkening into hungry ink and uncoiling like a snake hunting for prey. Her chakra slithers through it, a fifth limb, and reaches for Ensui. She's become good at catching tortoises and making them walk around, but Ensui only needs to jog to avoid it.
"Maybe you should slow down, or you'll pull your stitches," she tells him, concentrating so hard she almost feels determined.
"They were removed two weeks ago," he shrugs, sidestepping neatly. "You overcame the biggest hurdle when learning not to trap everything in your path. Now all you have to do is work on speed and precision. By the time you graduate, it'll be easy as breathing."
Kazue thinks Ensui should have more trouble breathing, missing pieces of a lung and all that, but says nothing. She'll catch the Jounin one of these days (if he lets her).