Naruto 1. 1: Life on Nishihama

**A/N: Those of you reading after Three Tails will obviously know that this is the fic that was promised at the end; those of you that are new readers WELCOME and I hope you enjoy it ^_^**

**On the subject of my previous fic; this character and story have been rolling around in my head since I was about half-way through Three Tails and just keep creeping back. I think it's more than understandable if you have reservations about whether or not I'll finish it considering how that went but I think if Three Tails has done anything it's taught me a lesson. I bit off far more than I could chew with that last fic and tried to jam so much in that in the end it'd either feel rushed or dawdling. Oki's story will be more along the lines of my original type (which I feel far more comfortable with) as in it will follow the character's life****_before_****the main storyline and add to the characters in Cannon, expanding on existing things in the Naruto universe rather than trying to upend everything. I'll also try to check over everything at least twice before posting and make the chapters longer rather than just putting up whatever I've managed so far.**

**One last note, I've left out honorifics and Japanese terms in this fic because more often than not I get them wrong anyway. But the characters will still refer to others in the same manner as they would if they were speaking Japanese e.g. 'Big Brother' 'Mr Whathisface' 'Lord Whathisface' ect. **

**I'm hoping you enjoy it and I'm hoping you give it a chance since the first few chapters will be rather slow and separate from Cannon characters since I'm trying to set up Oki and her childhood life. I'd seriously, SERIOUSLY appreciate any feedback while trying to get this up and running, so if you have any thoughts on the first chapter (any at all) a review or PM would be really, really welcome :]**

**Anyway on with the story…**

Life on Nishihama.

The first time Oki Tachibana saw a corpse was at three years old.

She could (with a clarity that surprised even herself considering her age at that time) recall the encounter to every minute detail bar sound. Why the scene reran on mute in her head was beyond her, but it did and in an eerie, respect-for-the-dead manner it only seemed fitting.

The corpse in question had once been a man by the name of Akifusa Kirisawa. Oki had noticed very little about him when he'd been milling about with the other scarce, living occupants of her village; and now he was dead she could remember even less. He used to spit, that she remembered and only because the amount of violence he would devout into hacking and snuffling out his bad habit had made her wonder (at that age) whether or not one day Akifusa Kirisawa would spit out his skeleton whole.

They'd found him by the boats, tangled in one of their father's nets with brittle fingers and the brittle limbs they were attached to threaded through the ropes. The once-man's hair had been lank, curled about his bloated face by sea salt, and his stringy limbs had been strewn about him with all the lack of grace as a self-conscious teen. Oki remembered the odd way his jaw had hung, and how vibrant and suddenly exotic a bruise looked when dyed across the deathly pallor of his skin.

Her brother had flown into action immediately, fussing over her not to look yet making a grand show of dragging the corpse away. Kenzo Tachibana had-like many of the fishwives in their village-gained the majority of his entertainment by feeding familial drama into distended proportions. While her eleven year old brother fussed and clucked over the tragedy of a child so young having to witness something so obscene; Oki was hardly 'traumatised'.

In fact despite the small alteration the corpse posed to the daily routine of Oki Tachibana's life, she couldn't say that the human driftwood of Akifusa Kirisawa was even unexpected. She didn't know the reasons behind Akifusa's fatal beating, nor did she have any knowledge of the culprit. But the identity of the corpse did not matter; only the fact that it was _there_. It was as if Oki had been due to see a dead body, and prompt (as Oki preferred to be) the dead body had met her schedule.

So at three years old Oki Tachibana saw her first corpse. At three years old, she crouched to help her older brother untangle its fingers from her father's net. And at three years old she looked at it with neither surprise nor recoil.

…

Nishihama could not boast to be the richest village in the Land of Water. It wasn't exactly the poorest either; Nishihama-like many of the villages in the Land of Water-slipped into that coveted grey area of the unexceptional. 'Coveted' by its villagers of course, who had learned from their father's stories passed on from generation to generation about 'this one cousin' or 'this one younger brother of your great grandpa' who had ventured outside the safe monotony of life in the village only to meet a tragic and sticky end. Infamy was a word immediately linked to dangerous. And for a village full of people who considered a very good day, a day when they managed to go to sleep with three square meals; 'dangerous' was not something that they had the time or inclination to bother with.

Nishihama was a village built upon the ritual of eking into the next day. By the age of three, Oki Tachibana had grown so accustomed to having an almost empty belly that those rare days when they ate well in the household left her feeling uncomfortable and unfamiliar. It was a village that held a rough estimate of 114 people, 32 families and the 35 houses that lodged them.

It sat against a coastline of grey, wind-smoothed pebbles ringed by a swallow strip of sand and circled by the temperamental sea that threaded through the islands of the Land of Water. The village was an assembly of tin-roofs and water-warped wood constructs rising up on spindly slat legs; all grimly decorated with netting, wicker baskets and various small iron-cast charms that promised a good catch the next day. It wasn't pleasant-looking, even on those few days when the sun managed to bathe the place in a more flattering light, but it was familiar and there was a certain character to the salt air and sandy paths. In honesty, to Oki the village always looked as though it were expecting an attack, what with the houses huddled together like suspicious conspirators and its sour-faced shabby appeal. It made it comical, almost loveable in a pitying sort of way.

Because Nishihama was so close to the sea, and because teaching was passed on from senior to junior family members with the only subjects being those that put food on the table and roof over head; the vast majority of income was made through fishing. Kirigakure was only a strip of sea away from the island Nishihama, discontent and malnourished, perched on; and that powerhouse needed food. Nishihama joined many of its surrounding villages in supplying that demand. The few families who weren't casting and calling in nets from dawn till dusk owned business that aided the occupation. The Yuno's sold a few essentials but even those were usually considered gaudy, unnecessary expenses; and Oki could not remember a time when the Yuno family were doing well selling what people could get-by without or hand-craft themselves.

The Tachibana family did not break the mould in regard to this accustomed way of life in Nishihama. Oki's father, Kenji Tachibana, had been a second son; her older brother had been named after her grandfather who was long dead and buried before Kenzo was even conceived. After Kenzo's birth there had been a painful string of miscarriages for her mother until Oki was born. When she was four, her mother was pregnant again.

Despite being in the company of her older brother and her father for the entirety of her days as a child, Oki couldn't say she was particularly close to them. She and Kenzo had little to nothing in common besides a last name and the realisation that they had little to nothing in common. It had been decided between the pair through unspoken agreement that they would maintain their distance from the other's life whenever it was not forced on them. It was a cool mutual disdain Kenzo and Oki regarded each other with. As a younger child Oki could recall how much Kenzo had wanted a younger sibling to follow him about and hero-worship him and rely on his wisdom; those few years of Kenzo grabbing at her hands and Oki's cold reception of his attentions had made clear each sibling's disappointment with the other.

From what Oki could remember of her relationship with her father, it had been good before Kenki Tachibana (her younger brother) was born. She had distinct memories of sitting on his shoulders, so board then and so high up that Oki had girlishly clung to his forehead and given the gulls swooping above a challenging eye. She had memories of hands, weathered by callouses and smelling of salt and huge around her own, patiently teaching her own how to tie a knot or separate the tangles in one of his nets or sew the tears in her clothes that were occupational hazards of being a child. She had memories of a wiry beard brushing against the soft skin of her cheek and a laugh like thunder rolling out from the smiling mouth underneath. There would still be ghosts of the man Oki remembered from then in the years after Kenki's birth, snippets and still-frames repeated when Kenji Tachibana remembered the man he'd been or forgot the man he'd become, but those were few and far between.

In what limited memory Oki had of her mother, Nanako Tachibana formally Nanako Midorikawa, she had been a woman perpetually pregnant and perpetually tired. She would stay round and tired-eyed and swollen-ankled in Oki's memory because Nanako Tachibana did not survive the birth of her third child. Oki, in that callousness that children are capable of, did not believe she was missing out on much. Her father would become quiet when speaking of her mother (or more quiet than usual, considering her father) and if pushed either grow irritated that she was asking these questions or announce that Nanako had a kind soul in that watery voice that meant Oki and her brothers would have to leave the man be until he'd collected himself. When Oki asked her older brother, Kenzo Tachibana would shrug and mutter that he didn't remember much. If the woman couldn't even leave that much of an impression on her son after them knowing each other for twelve years; Oki supposed that she wasn't missing out on much. Besides it wasn't as if she was in a minority, most of the households in Nishihama had lost one or both parents.

In fact, Oki sincerely doubted that there were_any_ 'whole' families left in the Land of Water.

…

"So…what's going on in there?"

"Well, I dunno that do I?" Kenzo griped, throwing his younger sister a distinctly put-out scowl, "If I knew what was going on would I be out here with you?"

"You'd be out here anyway, even if you knew" Oki snapped, "Dad told you to stay put."

Kenzo didn't have an answer, folding his arms across his skinny chest he glared at his sister with as much venom as a twelve year old could muster. His nails were ripped and bitten, his hair unwashed and falling in lank clumps over his forehead and the bags under his eyes looked vaguely painful; in all the only visual effect Kenzo Tachibana could manage was that of a street rat with ambitions bigger than himself and a severe case of constipation.

"…shut up," Kenzo spat after a long silence.

Oki only replied with a brief sour expression before deciding that arguing with Kenzo wasn't worth the time it would waste. Her fingers skittered against the splintered wood of the windowsill, fingernails hooking under and stripping up any lingering peeling paint. Her mother had died last night. She'd cried when Kenzo and her father cried but she still wasn't exactly sure what it was she was crying_for_. The ambiguous explanation that she would not be seeing her mother again had been given but Oki was unsure as to what that entailed and what exactly it would _mean _to her.

With brutal honesty, Oki realised that she didn't really**know** an awful lot about her mother and in fact she'd never relied an awful lot on the woman either. She couldn't really_miss_ the presence of someone she'd never known or depended on, could she? Her father had been her sole provider in her life, her mother was gone but surely that was an absence that Oki could live with? So what was left to sort out? What was father doing in that room?

Oki gave the room her parents had shared in their diminutive four roomed house another glance.

She puffed air into her cheeks and out again. Her toes tapped an erratic beat against the round, threadbare rug that occupied the majority of the main room in their house. She counted the grains in the wood, reached 14 before she realised what she was doing.

"I'm bored outta my mind," Oki groaned aloud, "Is Dad done in there yet?"

Kenzo only gave her an aggravated look.

"Do ya reckon something happened to the baby?" Oki finally voiced, throwing another look at Kenzo before returning her gaze to the door, "Like it's got a weird head or something? Y'know like Genji Fujisaki's older sister."

Kenzo gave the door a speculative look. Brisk, biting wind pulled in from the sea, breaching what little defence the wood walls provided and washing into the room before curling at its centre like a smug-faced housecat. Oki shivered. Her eyes moved to the door again and the unnerving silence behind it. The mundane door guarding its mundane room had in these circumstances stepped away from the familiar. It was no longer the door Oki passed every day and the door her father emerged from before the morning's light had even broken. Suddenly it looked intrusive and attention-seeking that irritating relative that no one wants at the family gatherings but out of politeness no one asks to leave.

"I reckon Dad's killed it."

Kenzo's announcement broke the staring contest Oki had been participating in with a door. Kenzo's bottom lip was pushed out, a thin-fingered hand under his chin and the weight leaned back onto one leg. This was an expression and stance Oki recognised as Kenzo's-about-to-feed-me-some-bullshit-and-make-out-that-he-knows-a lot-more-than-he-actually-does face.

"Killed what?" Oki replied with a sceptical frown.

"The_baby_," Kenzo sighed and rolled his eyes, drawing out that last word like it was the most obvious thing in the world, then muttered, "duh!"

"Why would Dad kill it?" Oki glared (not keen on _Kenzo_ treating _her_ like the dumbass), "that don't make any sense."

"Yeah," Kenzo nodded giving her an expression that clearly showcased that he was shocked she could be so stupid, "it makes a whole lotta sense. The baby killed Mom so Dad will probably kill it now. That's the smartest thing to do."

"No," Oki frowned, "that's just stupid, and the baby didn't kill Mom."

"She died giving birth to it, so it kinda **did**," Kenzo scoffed, "don't you know anything? That's the same as killing her."

"No, it ain't nothing like that. The baby can't do anything yet, Mom decided to have it so if she died that's **her** own fault. It's got nothing to do with the baby," Oki countered, "you've gotta take responsibility for your own stuff. If Mom got sick or something and had to leave it's cuz she messed up, don't stick that on the baby."

Kenzo's tanned face bloomed an aggressive shade of red. Floorboards creaked and whined as he took one, two then three steps towards her. Oki scrabbled up from where she'd propped her elbows against the windowsill. She may be smaller and weaker than her brother but at least she gave harder than he could, though with how furious he looked Oki doubted any amount of viciousness was going to see her through this one. Just as Kenzo's hand darted out to snag her collar and Oki moved to duck away, **_the_**door opened.

Kenzo froze as their father's heavy steps reverberated through every plank in the main room's floorboards, and echoed dully in the empty space underneath their raised shack. Oki, to that point, had not believed in the timely rescues that illustrated stories with phrases like 'in the nick of time' and numerous amounts of 'suddenly'. Her pleasant discovery was short lived however when her father's vast, bear-like hulk paced past the lamp in the centre of their dinner table. The light was briefly swallowed by his profile then spat out again as his slow, measured steps carried him on through the room.

Like the door he'd emerged from, Oki's father had also managed to transform from the familiar into the alien within the space of 12 hours. The sheer size of him no longer comforting; rather than soft-spoken and somewhat submissive, Kenji Tachibana suddenly appeared sombre and fragile in a way that ate at his size. He passed them both without a glance as he made his way towards the door, his walk and newfound brittleness making Kenji a wraith, the funeral shroud passing through their house.

"Dad!" Kenzo called bursting with energy and noise to overcompensate for the silence, "Hey, Dad! Wait! Where're you going?"

"To make arrangements so we can bury your mother," Kenji's voice was dry and thin and hurt Oki's ears.

"What about the baby?" Kenzo skidded to the door shouting frantically, "Did you kill it?"

Their father stopped.

One of his sandaled feet on the last of the warped, rickety stairs and one foot among the tangle of thin, coastal bushes that choked them, Kenji turned. He stared at his first born for a long moment and Oki-being too short to peer around her older brother- had not the slightest knowledge of what exactly her father projected in that look. What she did know was that Kenzo flinched as if a feral cat had darted across his path, a whole body jolt that moved his foot behind him.

Their father drew in another breath. Turned around.

"Stay here."

And then he was gone, his shape disappearing into the early-morning mist and ramshackle of unkempt houses.

….

It was awhile before either sibling entered the ominous room. Kenzo made multiple muttered threats about finishing what their father had started but didn't move. Instead he brooded in a corner, nursing his pride. It was Oki who finally relented to curiosity and tired of inaction, nudged **_the_** door on its hinges and toed into the gloom.

Their mother's body was still on the bed but it looked out of place, covered from head to toe in the ratty blanket and carefully positioned in an unnatural repose. Oki stared at it awhile, debating whether to remove the blanket from her face and discover whether or not the foreign object in the room really was her mother. Apprehension held her back. She didn't really want to see its face, curious or not, and disturbing it didn't seem right on a half-hearted whim.

Instead Oki moved her eyes to the little bundled shape on the bed. It barely made a noise as she moved closer and for a good while Oki wondered if the baby really _was_ dead. She'd seen plenty of babies before, and this one looked as indistinct as the others. It was pink, it was bald and it didn't really do much. Overall, Oki found the sight of new brother wholly unimpressive.

But maybe that's what she liked about it.

The baby was smaller than most others she'd seen, it also breathed with a wet, echoing rattle that didn't strike four-year old Oki as particularly healthy. There was spit in the corners of its little beaky mouth and angry red spots on the tanned skin around its fat little eyes. It was cold in the room, the baby shivered. The draft brought the scent of stale milk crawling up Oki's nose although she knew her mother had died before she could breastfeed her new born.

"I don't think you're very well," Oki informed the baby then felt foolish because the baby couldn't reply never mind understand what she was telling it.

It just continued to sit there, staring dumbly up at her as its podgy lips smacked against one another.

"I don't think Dad and Big Brother like you much, either," Oki continued, very matter-of-factly.

Of course, the baby did nothing.

Oki sighed, her eyes rolling across to the pokey chest her father and mother had crammed most of their meagre belongings in. It was a hearty thing, huge slats of wood and pot marked iron gripping each of its four corners. Oki had a respect for hard-lived things; she had a respect for survivors. She understood-in an accepted distant fashion-that the line between life and death was a thin thing, difficultly straddled and far too easily crossed. Anything that could bite, claw and dig themselves into another day deserved admiration. Oki tempered through things. It was what she did best. The rattling in the baby's chest seemed to swell in the silence.

"Look," Oki spoke to the baby, "I'll make a deal with you."

The four year old girl paced forward, rocking back on her heels as she scrutinised up, down, up again and finally resting on its eyes sharply. Like a drill sergeant she held the baby's stare, frowning until her reached decision was punctuated by a brisk nod.

"You survive tonight and I'll…" a moment to collect her thoughts, "I'll keep an eye out for you. I'm not gonna baby you or anything so don't expect me to, but I'll help you out. Alright?"

The baby said nothing. Oki left the room feeling vastly more satisfied.

…..

"See it's Oki, say it with me. Oh-_kee_. That's me," she pointed a finger towards herself then flicked it out again until it rested against the skinny, narrowed-shouldered space of her brother's chest, "and you, you're Kenki. Ken_-kee."_

"Oh-kee," Kenki sang, "Ohhh-keeeee."

"No,_I'm_ Oki. _You're_ Kenki," Oki this time placed her entire hand flat against the heaving of Kenki's ribs.

The movements of his diaphragm weren't like everyone else's; she already knew this. It was as if Kenki's lungs had already run far ahead of him and the rest of his body was struggling to catch up. He often lost his breath quickly and it deserted him altogether at other moments. She felt it move beneath her hand for a while, imagining the air pulling in and wheezing out from between little holes in his stunted body. He'd survived another day, she hadn't exactly been counting since birthdays weren't often celebrated in Nishihama and everyone relied on 'round-about' ages, but Oki was sure her younger brother had passed three now. That meant she herself was around seven.

"Oki, finish with those nets."

She glanced up as her father passed over her head and continued on into the house. The thin candlelight from the lantern on the bottom step offered an apologetic, stuttering glow, but it was enough for Oki to continue precisely weaving the damaged rope together. Kenki shrunk further into her back as their father passed. Oki neither comforted nor admonished her younger brother.

She enjoyed priding herself on her own ideal of an elder sibling; firm but willing to give credit where credit was due. Of course, she'd often fell sort of these standards on occasion and if Kenzo were ever to act in such a way with her, she'd likely tell him where to shove it. And she could guarantee he wouldn't be 'shoving it' anywhere pleasant.

Kenki, however, was different. Kenki was unimpressive. And he didn't pretend to be otherwise. She appreciated that honesty of character, she appreciated the way Kenki would openly exhibit how happy he was to see her and she appreciated how he confided **_everything_** to her. A narcissistic part of herself appreciated the way Kenki trailed around after her too. It's reassuring to be admired and more so to be _needed_.

She wasn't entirely sure if she would've had the same fondness for the subject if it hadn't been her stumbling little brother, fisting his hands in her shirt while he followed her about with careful footsteps. She just wasn't the nurturing, kisses on skimmed knees and lullabies before bedtime type. No, as an elder sister Oki tended to meter out sloppy hair ruffles and watchful eyes. But the youngest Tachibana tried so hard to please her and understand what she said and do the things she did, that Oki couldn't begrudge him for playing her second shadow. Thus far, Kenki was the only one in Nishihama to warrant Oki's rough affection. And maybe that was because thus far Kenki was the only one in Nishihama to want them, or thus far Kenki was the only one in Nishihama that Oki believed deserved them.

"You can stop cowering now, Kenki," Oki voiced, eyes still focused on the intricate tangle of rope as her fingers deftly pulled them apart.

Kenki Tachibana remerged into view through tiny phrases, clutching at his stern older sister's back and peeping out at the world with shy eyes. Oki finally grew impatient and with a sigh, roughly planted her younger brother in her lap and consequently out in the open. He squeaked at the display of force but quieted when he was staring out at the world through the cage of his sister's arms and the netting she was holding near her face. The world stared back at the boy, or what little the three year old knew of it. The Yuno matriarch was shouting at her husband about money again, Mr Mizuyama and his three sons were hauling their fishing boat between them (a tear in the side and a line scratched into the course sand of the path behind them) and close but sounding far away Kenki could hear the waves breaking against the shore.

The world he knew smelt of salt and brine, it was constructed with washed wood and rain on tin roofs, and it was occupied by gruff, desperate people with hollow cheeks and calloused hands. It scared him, just like the sea had when he'd watched Oki push off the boat with their father and drift out onto the wide, shifting surface. Large, unknown things scared him. And that was one of the reasons why the air that constantly fermented around Kenji Tachibana scared him.

But Oki did not scare Kenki. Oki was forthright in a way that was sometimes in itself terrifying. Kenki could look out at these things that made him feel frightened from her lap, and the fear would ease away a bit. Kenki glanced up at his sister and she glanced down at him.

"You finished shaking?" Oki questioned, dark eyes focused on Kenki's.

Kenki nodded.

"Alright then," Oki reshuffled herself and reverted right back to her task as if she'd never deviated from it to begin with.

It was quiet a moment longer; a particularly strong wind pushed sand up into their eyes and set the wind chimes hanging from their neighbour's awning into a brief frenzy. The youngest Tachibana watched his older sister work. She was far faster than Kenzo, even in the weak light, and she always brought in more fish when she went out with Dad than Kenzo ever did. Her hands were good, is what Kenki decided, quick hands with little brains in the fingertips to store all that memory. Oki had tried to tell him what a brain was but Kenki wasn't entirely sure he'd got it right, he'd tried but he didn't get why the other body parts just let it sit there and boss them around.

"I thought you thought I was the scariest person in Nishihama anyway," Oki murmured, breaking Kenki from his brain related confusion.

"Scary?" Kenki echoed with wide, disbelieving eyes. Had he really said that? Sure, Oki _was_ a bit scary…_sometimes_, but not scary in the same way his father was.

Oki glanced down at him, dark eyes mirroring a brief flicker of the flame before inking out into pitch black again. A grin passed over her face as she tucked her head down further and then, quick and sharp, she snapped at him baring her pointed teeth as she did so. Kenki wheeled back, giggling with a sparking mixture of excitement and sheer panic. Oki grinned and growled, following his hand slowly as Kenki giggled and tried to push her face away. She snapped her teeth again and Kenki exploded into hysterical laughter.

The next squealing giggle caught in his throat, the air crawled out of his body and the blood pounded in his veins. Without batting an eyelid, Oki pushed him back against her chest and held him still with one hand while returning to her previous task with the other. Kenki felt a brief burst of frustration-the fun ruined by his own short-breath and once again he'd managed to showcase his weakness to his big sister-before the inevitability washed over him. There wasn't much he could do about it, so he might as well get on with it like his big sister did.

"You breathing right now, Kenki?" Oki murmured down at him.

He nodded despite still having to stuck air in through what felt like a single hole poked into a sheet of wet cloth.

"Good," Oki nodded, "You're not allowed to die on me, alright?"

"Alright, Oki," Kenki murmured back.

….

Kenki Tachibana was shy and polite; the type of person who was eternally apologising as if they were constantly sorry that their very existence put people out of the way. This was **not **an attitude his older sister approved of. It was understandable for Kenki to regard himself in such a way. Kenzo Tachibana treated his younger brother as if he was a distinctly embarrassing family pet, like the old dog that had long been incontinent but was tolerated because it was such a 'poor thing'. But this condescension and Kenzo's embarrassment _on_ Kenki's behalf, was at least acknowledgement.

Kenji Tachibana was not a bad man; you couldn't rightly say he was a bad father either. He didn't beat any of his three children and in some areas of the Land of Water that was all it took to constitute a good father. But Kenji Tachibana was an absent father, he rose before his children, he worked beside his children, he ate sitting at the same table as them and he slept on a futon that was only separated from theirs by a thin wall. But Kenji was an absent father all the same. He had stopped being a man and became a breathing tombstone to his deceased wife, the day Nanako Tachibana died.

So Kenki's attitude was-to Oki- _understandable_, but that didn't necessarily mean it was something she approved of.

"You've got to look at it like this, little brother," she began.

Kenki blinked back at her, hands pausing in their task at casting the net out. She was nine now and he was five, almost six. Oki had recently decided he was old enough to accompany her in the morning ritual of dragging their father's boat out onto the sea and setting the nets. It was tough work and Kenki often had to hide his breathlessness from his sister. She'd told him quite clearly that if he drowned because he wasn't watching what he was doing, it was 'his own stupid fault'.

"Like what?" Kenki frowned with confusion as he feed yet more of the net into his sister's waiting hands.

She didn't answer immediately, leaning her wiry body back and to the side before casting the net into the ocean. The weights began dragging it down immediately, the morning chill and first, shy traces of the oncoming sun rebounding from the water.

"Like this," Oki repeated, jerking her chin out towards the dull disk emerging from the fog.

"Like the sun?" Kenki blinked.

"No," Oki sighed, "like the morning. You like waking up in the morning don't ya?"

"Well…" Kenki frowned, weighing his options.

"Alright," Oki huffed, clearly exasperated that she had to reiterate what she meant and that Kenki wasn't on the same immediate wavelength, "you like being alive when you wake up in the morning, right?"

"Course, I do," Kenki eagerly nodded.

Oki grinned, her wide, sharp-teethed grin that pulled you in as much as it pushed you away, "Good, good. Well how come-" she flung more net out then sat down to methodically row the boat to their second spot, dark eyes scanning the water with unnerving focus.

"Well, how come that is, huh?," Oki continued once she was finally satisfied with their location (Kenki had learnt that his older sister was fussier than senior about a lot of things and it was best to just let her get on with it).

"You mean…how come I'm alive when I wake up?" Kenki struggled.

"Yep," Oki nodded.

"Well…" Kenki slipped more net into her hands, "I guess it's because I was alive when I went to sleep."

"You're missing the-" a grunt as a large bulk of the net arched and fanned and sank-"point, little Brother. _Why_ do you think you got to go to sleep alive and why did you get to wake up alive too?"

Kenki tried, he really did. He scoured every inch of his five year old brain for the answer he was clearly missing.

"It's because," and here Oki grinned again, wider than ever, "you wanted it."

"What?" Kenki was more confused than ever.

"Let's take an example. You gotta eat to live, right? So you go out and fish to get meat. If you get a crappy catch that day, do you lie down and go 'oh well, no eating, no living I might as well just wait to die', huh?" Oki prompted, enthusiasm for the subject growing.

Sometimes Kenki felt like Oki Tachibana thought she was older than she actually was. It was mutinous and Kenki's own evident hero-worship of his sister proved that even if he'd entertained the notion, he certainly didn't find it completely unfounded. Oki may talk like the rest of her peers in Nishihama and she may act like them and, despite any differences she displayed now, it was widely assumed that she would lead the same kind of life that they all would lead. But like most children, Oki Tachibana _believed _that **she** was different. **She'd **get it right where others had failed. **She **would be the one streaming off to those far places unexplored and those grand adventures unexperienced. And**this** was only the necessary waiting period for her to fully develop into this big, fantastic…_thing _she was destined to be. Both she and Kenki had already decided that she was meant for bigger things; they just hadn't exactly decided on what those bigger things _entailed_ yet.

Still…Kenki felt like this was one of those times when Oki had decided she already knew what the world was all about.

"No!" Kenki defended and blushed at the institution that Oki thought that would have been his attitude, "That's just stupid, I ain't_that_ stupid, Oki!"

"So you catch the fish or you man up and try again tomorrow?" Oki smirked as if she were a proud teacher edging her pupil towards the conclusion.

"Yeah!" Kenki nodded still frowning.

"Because you want to, right? Because you want to live, you want something and you take it," at this Oki plunged her hand into the water lapping against their boat as if she could spear a fish on her bare fingers, "you have to want it hard enough! Every other fisherman's gonna be out there next morning catching their fish, and are_you_ gonna just go hungry again? No! You wanna eat, you take the fish!"

"Er…big sister, are you telling me to fish better?" Kenki said, by now thoroughly confused with who the fisherman in the story was and what pearl of wisdom he'd missed between all the sharp-toothed grinning and splashing hands.

"No! Holy crap, Kenki," Oki sighed. She took a moment to regain herself and work through any lingering frustration before squatting down in front of him.

"Look here's the deal, right?" Oki's expression was serious and Kenki tried to reflect the sudden gravity of the moment as best he could, "Who's the best at filling the nets out of our family, no, out of _all _the other kids in Nishihama?"

"You, Oki," Kenki smiled tentatively feeling far more comfortable with this line of questioning.

"Damn right I am," Oki grinned, and Kenki remembered for a moment how the Rooster the Yuno's had kept in their yard for a week used to pull his head back and ruffle its wings.

And this was why Kenki believed Oki when she told him she was meant for better things. He'd never had trusted that someone could have so much unwavering confidence in themselves. He'd heard plenty of the grown-ups in Nishihama say something along the lines of 'well, I don't care what anyone thinks anyway'; but Oki honestly, whole-heartedly, truly**didn't**. Every naysayer just added more fuel to the fuel to make whatever boast or claim she crowed about the truth. Of course, it meant that Oki wasn't exactly the _best _listener; but that didn't matter to Kenki. To him, his older sister **knew everything** and could **do anything**. He wanted so much to be like her Kenki could almost feel it, like a literal living existence in his chest.

"And _why_ do you think that is, Kenki?" Oki continued.

"Because you're really smart," Kenki smiled.

"Eh," Oki tilted her head from side to side in a weighing-scales motion, "kinda but not what I was going for. It's because I want to be, I want to be the best at fishing here hard enough that now I am."  
"It don't work like that, big sister" Kenki sighed, "….I want lots of stuff," to be as brave as you, to be as sure as you he didn't verbally add, "But that doesn't mean I just get it."

"Course it doesn't," Oki frowned, "You want enough and you do enough and you'll take it. You want it more than anyone else, you do more than anyone and you **will **take more than anyone else."

Kenki still looked unsure so with another long-suffering sigh, Oki swiped her hand forward and grasped his chin. Carefully she moved his head from one side, past her stern expression and then to the other.

"Do you see any other boats on the water?" Oki asked.

"Actually…." it was the first time Kenki had noticed, but no the sea was empty besides them, "…no. There's no one else here."

"You know why?" Oki continued.

"Cause…we got up earlier?" Kenki edged.

"Right!" Oki grinned, gaining her momentum again, "and do you know why I got up earlier than anyone else and scouted out a fresh spot later last night when the others had brought in their catch?"

Kenki waited. He didn't want to disappoint with an answer, so he scanned and rechecked and carefully picked about with the words in his head before committing them to his mouth.

"Because...you wanted it more than the others?" Kenki squeezed his eyes shut.

It was quiet a moment, the little boat bobbing against the water and the salt air whipping about Kenki's face. He could feel the first fingers of warmth from the approaching dawn and every wave that rolled up and under his feet. But without human voices, Kenki felt nervous. He could picture himself adrift when he opened his eyes, just alone in a little boat in the middle of a huge body of water. Slowly he peeled them open and his sister's triumphant smile pushed relief up and through him.

"Bingo!" Oki cheered.

Kenki with pride beamed as Oki heavy-handedly ruffled through his pale blue hair.

Oki was practically vibrating with her victory and passing the rope through her hands with renewed speed "so…what you gotta do?"

"…Want it more?" Kenki smiled hopefully up at his big sister.

"That's exactly right!" Oki grinned at him so hard, her dark eyes disappeared into crinkles, the black mark under her right eye (a copy of his own) squished into an oval rather than a circle and her jagged teeth flashed white in the approaching light, "And if it's any help, Kenki, I want you to win too! So that's like double the do and double the take, right?"

"I…" for some bizarre reason Kenki found himself laughing as Oki whistled and bustled about her work, "I guess."

…

It was raining. Hard. The world filtered through sheets upon sheets of bitter raindrops, sand giving with tired sucking sounds beneath their booted feet and the sensation of each coat of icy water pounding again and again in even, drumbeat tempos against their skin. Nishihama was painted behind blurring streaks of grey and sombre blues all outlined in indigo. Kenki's hands slipped against the rope. His fingertips had been numb with cold for so long he'd forgotten how they felt when warm.

A dark shape was hunched by his feet; Oki's thin fingers somehow managed to secure the sodden rope to another of the mollusc crusted rocks they used as anchors at night so the tide couldn't creep in and steal their boat away.

"Kenki, pass me more rope!" she had to shout over the relentless hammering of the rain.

Kenki nodded meekly, shivering so hard that his jaw wouldn't stop trembling. He scurried about for more rope inside the belly of their rowboat, glancing once at the sea of dark water hurtling its body against the coastline. To Kenki it looked as though it were at war with itself, uncaring about the aerial bombardment of cold rain.

"Big Sister!" Kenki hurried back over, slipped twice in the wet sand before finally presenting it to Oki.

She looked up briefly then immediately returned her gaze to him again. Her pupils and irises were so black in the blue half-light that they looked like twin holes pierced in her eyes. She looked at him carefully, expression intense and uncompromising before her face was ripped from view. Kenki didn't even have time to think about what she was doing as Oki pulled her sodden coat over her head and yanked it on him. The coat was wet and thin like his own but it was warm from Oki's body at least.

"You'll freeze," Oki muttered, returning to her task, "You need it more than me."

Kenki immediately began stumbling over himself for apologies and reassurances but was silenced by a single strict_look_.

"I said you'll freeze," Oki frowned, "are you arguing with me?"

"I, ah no, Oki," Kenki replied.

"Good," Oki nodded and grinned, quick and sharp as a knife.

"Besides," she huffed finally securing the boat and hauling herself from her crouched position, "I ain't cold anyway."

And if Oki said it, to Kenki it must be true. So he followed as she scrambled up the rain-slicked pebbles first, tiny fingers clutching at the course material of her trousers. And he followed her over the golden whips of coastal grass flattened by downpour, and then he followed her out onto the sandy path. And finally he followed as Oki ascended the rickety staircase to their door and slipped them both inside.

It was not much warmer inside the house than it was outside it. A large puddle was already forming beneath their feet as brother and sister stood there and gathered their bearings. The stove was on at least, the little black cooking pot creating a homey, comforting noise as Ichiban Daishi was left to simmer. He wasn't keen on the watery soup but his stomach curled and expanded at the thought of food nonetheless.

Their father was already sat in the only armchair in the house; a threadbare affair with the tattered material thinned so extensively with age that you could feel every corner and hard surface of the wooden frame. He had a hand rolled cigarette hanging from one corner of his bearded mouth and he was staring sightlessly out at the rain through the strips in the wooden shutters. Kenki instantly felt on edge, awkward in the room and uncomfortable in his own skin.

"Stay here a sec," Oki ordered before marching off towards the tiny bathroom.

Kenki fidgeted. The sound of the rain pounding against the roof and slipping over its corrugated sides was deafening in the heavy silence. He counted seconds in his head like literal grains of sand, felt each one drop in and out of existence with agonising slowness.

"Erm…" Kenki began before wincing at how suddenly loud his voice seemed, "Dad, do you know where big brother Kenzo is?"

His father didn't reply. The sound curled around Kenji's worn face and billowed, vaporous and lazy, through the hard edges of his cheekbones. Kenki knotted his fingers. He wondered exactly which ghost his father preoccupied with watching through the smoke and rain.

Just when Kenki was certain that the heartbeat in his ears had harmonised itself with the rainfall, did Oki finally reappear. She dragged a tin pail behind her, water sloshing up over the sides and sinking into the large, musty rug. Oki grunted as she lifted it onto the stove then glanced at him. Kenki smiled with far more relief that he'd originally intended. Oki cast one perceptive look at him then another at the silent, brooding figure of their father.

"You alright?" was the brisk question.

"I'm alright, big sister," was Kenki's smiling reply, "ah, except do you know where big brother is? Is he already asleep, are we being noisy?"

"_Kenzo_?" Oki pulled a sour face before snorting, "That idiot, he ain't here," Oki replied, checking the temperature of the water with her finger before frowning and trying to crank the ancient stove's heat higher.

"Oh," Kenki breathed, "…But it's cold and wet, will he really be alright? Oki, did he tell you where he went?"

"Nope, I haven't seen him all day. His shoes aren't here."

Kenki glanced down, and sure enough one pair of waterproof boots were absent from the Tachibana household. He blinked back up at his sister. When had she noticed that? She'd barely looked at him when he'd asked and she'd left straight for the bathroom when they got in, so how had-

"Alright," Oki grinned, "clothes off and into the bathroom."

Kenki snapped back to the task at hand and slowly began peeling the sodden clothing from his shivering body. In the time it took him to remove his shirt Oki had already hefted the tin pail of now warmed water into the bathroom and was lounging about the main room impatiently. She took one look at his progress and sighed.

"C'mon Kenki, hurry up or I'll stick you in the soup."

Kenki paused, "….You wouldn't."

Smirking now, Oki looked his feeble frame up and down before grinning, revealing two rows of sharp little teeth, "….I dunno. I am pretty hungry."

Kenki wiped at his nose and sniffled around a laugh, "No, Oki you wouldn't_eat_ me, right?"

Oki's grin grew, "Do ya know what these teeth are for?"

Kenki was grinning now too, recognising the beginning of a game when he saw one. He shook his head excitedly, already eyeing the distance between where he stood and the bathroom door.

"Eating little brothers!" Oki did not disappoint, she sprinted at him and laughing and shrieking Kenki ran away. Then when Kenki began to wheeze in breath, she slowed and bodily grasped him around one shoulder and under one armpit.

Kenki was still wriggling and laughing when she poured half the pail of warm water over his head, retrieved dry clothes while he washed then (when he'd been scrubbed raw) threw a ragged towel at him so he could dry. She was efficient in her own bathing (Kenki could easily imagine that Oki would have spent some serious thought on how to perfect her cleaning rituals, Oki's attitude was likely 'why scrub at yourself haphazardly when you could make even shivering around a bucket of lukewarm water as impressive as possible') while he wiped himself dry and scooped on the meticulously folded clothes she'd left on the bathroom stool.

He was just tugging on his shirt when a hand on his head made him pause.

Kenki blinked up through the head hole while his hands were still both raised up in the air. His arms were halfway through baggy sleeves and in the warmth and darkness of his (relatively) fresh clothes Kenki felt safe. Oki ruffled the towel through his wet hair. Her movements were an oxymoron of gentle and forceful. She glanced back at him when she registered his eyes on her.

"You alright, Kenki?"

"Yeah," Kenki smiled softly, "I'm fine."

…

It took Kenki Tachibana a considerably long amount of time to come to the realisation that his older sister was not as popular among the other children of Nishihama as he had expected. Because the population of the village was so small, the youth of Nishihama usually cavorted about in clumps of their peers of the relative age.

Kenki, at six, often spied his brother from a window or from the shore with a small cluster of teens ranging from thirteen up to nineteen. Kenzo was out the house more often than he was in it, and if he wasn't out there was without fail an acne-riddled, lanky teen calling at the Tachibana house _for_ the oldest son. Although Kenki liked his big brother well enough, commiserative stares and the differences born of a large age gap aside, Kenzo Tachibana was no idol to Kenki like Oki Tachibana was. And if Kenzo was popular, Kenki was without a doubt certain that his big sister must have been regarded as some celebrity among the other children.

And in a way, Kenki learned he was right on one account. Oki Tachibana was famous among her peers, though in a different fashion than he had anticipated.

"You're finished with work early, Oki!"

Oki had just finished scaling the rise of grey, speckled pebbles that ringed the beach and was had begun hoisting Kenchi up with a firm grip on his elbows when the pair were halted by a cheery salutation. Kenchi peered shyly around her grip to see one of the village children, a girl nine to Oki's eight, smiling inquisitively up at his big sister. Her name was Momoko Koizumi and she had a reputation for being a bit of a cry baby, but she had a pleasant face and a pleasant countenance and (when she wasn't crying) a pleasant impression too, which was a rare thing in down-trodden Nishihama.

"Yep," Oki replied without looking at her but the grin at having her talents recognised was wide and unabashed.

"Do you wanna come play with us," Momoko pointed her smile backwards towards the group of children squinting at them from further up the street, "we're gonna go climbing, y'know that big group of rocks up the hill. Hiroya says he's going to get half way up this time!"

Oki finished pulling Kenki over the shifting mound of pebbles and plonked him back on his feet, before frowning speculatively at Momoko then at the children she'd indicated. Her gaze was direct, _almost_ challenging, in the face of their slightly mortified expressions and Kenki could not understand why the other children appeared so wary of his sister.

He supposed she did look a _little_ intimidating... if you weren't used to her. Unlike Kenki, who had always been small and sickly, Oki was taller than most children around her age. In fact considering her wiry proportions of reed-like limbs, stark androgynous facial features and shark-like teeth; Oki didn't radiate the impression that she was easily huggable.

Apparently the pointed teeth were hereditary. Kenki, Kenzo and their father all boasted the same characteristic but none of the three _belonged_ to them like Oki's did. The softer toffee colours of Kenki and Kenzo's eyes made their faces more approachable than the bottomless black of Oki's, a feature that was only further highlighted by the small dark dot that decorated the space under Kenki's right eye too. Any innocent charm Oki's appearance could have clawed back with her kinder olive complexion was promptly ruined by the girl's habit of slicking her shoulder-length hair away from her face. The style of made her light blue hair instantly made her seem that much more direct. Kenki and Oki (besides eye colour) had the exact same palette and yet Oki managed to look impressive and challenging while Kenki looked small and soft.

So caught up in his comparison was Kenki that he hadn't noticed that Oki had rebuffed the girl's offer on account of his more…fragile health. And now they were both looking at him, Momoko with big, hopeful eyes and Oki with candid attention.

"Why?" Momoko tilted her head in the same manner as a little songbird, "What's wrong with him?"

"Ain't nothing wrong with him," Oki scowled, the bite in the word 'wrong' illustrating that Momoko had committed some grievous faux-pas, "Kenki'll just push himself too hard trying to keep up with everyone and end up getting hurt."

Kenki cast his eyes down, a little flattered that Oki knew him so well and a little embarrassed that she was almost certainly correct in her prediction.

"Besides," Oki crossed her arms and widened her stance, "he ain't as strong as you lot and you'll all probably be too rough with him."

Momoko gave Oki a strange look at that, a darting expression of dry, incredulous humour that suggested she believed that statement was hypocritical coming out of Oki's mouth.

"We won't," Momoko pleaded, "I promise! We'll be really careful!"

Oki just frowned and stared at her before sighing, "It's up to little brother. You're askin' him anyway."

Momoko released a girlish squeal of excitement and rapidly squatted down to Kenki's height. Kenki gasped and ducked further behind his older sister's leg, blushing and staring back at the girl with one timid eye.

"Hi there Kenki," Momoko smiled cutely, "do ya wanna come play with me and my friends?"

Kenki glanced up at Oki for some form of approval or denial but she only quirked a brow and smirked at him in a way that seemed to say, 'well go on, it's up to you so give the girl an answer'. Kenki ventured a shy nod but immediately secluded himself further behind the protective wall of Oki's legs when Momoko chirped excitedly again. The girl shot off, up the street with her thick brunette plait streaming behind her and imparted the information to her circle of friends in the same cheerful tones.

Oki chuckled to herself and shook her head before she began sauntering towards them.

"C'mon little brother," she called over her shoulder and Kenki scrambled after her.

The group consisted of Momoko, Jinpachi (a boy with a bored expression and startling green eyes hidden beneath their constantly half closed lids, who was three years older than Oki and Mr Mizuyama youngest son) and Hiroya Kobiyashi (a boy a year younger than Oki, with mousy blond hair and one of his front teeth half-chipped).

Jinpachi lazily leaned his body back as if actually turning when he addressed Oki was far more effort than he was willing to commit to. Hiroya shot her a look before glancing quickly between his other two companions. Nods of greeting were exchanged all round before the children started walking.

"We're goin' climbing right?" Momoko queried when the group set off.

"Yeah," Jinpachi nodded.

"I'm getting half way up," Hiroya grinned, "you stay at the bottom, Momoko, and watch me, okay?"

"Oh, er," Momoko wavered but recovered herself and nodded cheerfully, "Okay!"

"Well," Oki grinned, "_I'm_ getting to the top!"

"What?" Momoko gasped, "No way!"

"It's too high," Hiroya scowled, "Ya won't make it."

"I can do it," Oki smiled, unashamedly self-confident.

"Sounds like lotta work for a bunch of rocks to me," Jinpachi sighed, "What do ya think little Tachibana?"

It took Kenki, who'd been attentively watching the older children converse from behind the safety of Oki's legs, a few moments to realise that Jinpachi was addressing him. As soon as he did, however, Kenki coloured and ducked further behind his sister.

Jinpachi blinked then laughed, "Shy, ain't he? Ya sure that he's related to you, Oki?"

"Well he sure as hell don't look much like _you_, Jinpachi. Kenki got a nice face and awesome teeth," Oki's own identical teeth flashed pearly-white as she grinned, "If I do say so meself."

Oki's chest inflated and she wiggled her eyebrows challengingly at everyone present, an action that went on for a bit too long than was strictly necessary and made her look somewhat demented. The youngest Mizuyama cracked up again and even Momoko giggled at the pair.

Kenki relaxed as they walked, from the unsure looks that had passed between Hiroya and Jinpachi he'd wondered whether the interaction would have nose-dived into a fight within minutes. But no, Oki could converse with them just fine. She was, in fact, charming in her own cocky frank way; that little kid with the bandages over their nose and a thousand outrageous stories to tell. She wasn't as strict with them as she was with Kenki (even if her attitude was sometimes more standoffish with them than it had ever been when directed towards him) and his big sister seemed to be lapping up the attention. What Kenki did notice however was the underlying tension between his sister and the other children of Nishihama. Oki clearly enjoyed the conversation and the opportunity to be entertained, but that's all the other three (and on a whole, _everyone _in the village bar him) were to her.

No one appreciated being a prop in a waiting room.

"So," Jinpachi drawled as they came to a stop at the foot of a cluster of large rocks. The weather was unusually sunny for the Land of Water, fat-bottomed bugs buzzing lazily in the dry air and the sand was warm beneath the cracks in Kenki's sandals. Hiroya had removed the socks from his feet before putting his ratty, off-white trainers back on. Kenki watched with a horrified sort of fascination as the older boy wrapped the socks around his palms while eyeing the mound of rocks, assessing his route.

"So what?" Oki spoke between broken laughter; Momoko was still giggling uncontrollably behind her hand despite the fact Oki's attention was now elsewhere.

"You still think ya gonna get far away from Nishihama. Still gonna go on to '_bigger better things'_, huh?," Jinpachi said it as if it were an old joke shared between friends.

Oki clearly didn't see it that way.

"Yeah, course I am," she replied as if it were an indisputable fact.

Jinpachi smiled slyly then exchanged a _look_ with the other two children. Oki, who appeared oblivious or maybe undaunted by their attitude, snorted as if she'd found Jinpachi's question amusing and turned to survey the rock pile.

"What about your little brother then?" Jinpachi drawled. Kenki's heart stuttered and he pushed himself closer into Oki's leg. He decided he didn't like Jinpachi Mizuyama's smile much.

"What 'bout him?" Oki replied still calculating how exactly she was going to come through on her earlier boast about reaching the top.

"Ya gonna just _leave _him here?" Hiroya frowned distastefully at the notion.

"No!" Oki glowered, "Course I ain't. He's comin' with me. Where I go, Kenki goes," a hand absentmindedly ruffled through his hair, "ain't that right, little brother?"

"Aww, that's sweet," Momoko cooed, clearly uncomfortable with the_almost_ brewing confrontation between Oki and Jinpachi and therefore eager to steer the conversation onto more accommodating terms, "You two are really cute!"

"Cute?" Oki echoed in confusion between Kenki and Momoko for some clarification, "how come?"

"I ain't seen you look after someone like that, Oki," Hiroya smiled, his expression was softer than Kenki had seen it thus far.

"I'm his big sister," Oki replied frankly in yet another tone that suggested it was the most obvious thing in the world and she was surprised none of them had caught on yet.

"Ah, I guess," Momoko shrugged and smiled.

"So, we gonna do this then?" Hiroya looked up at the pile of rocks eagerly.

Kenki surprised even himself by managing to match Momoko's cheering in not only vigour but _volume_ too. This wasn't until, of course, a good twenty minutes into Hiroya and Oki's climbing and only when Oki's foot slipped for the first time of many. She grunted and Kenki gasped, squeezing his eyes closed so tightly he could little white spots dancing in the darkness. Oki laughed and at the noise he'd opened his eyes to find her shaking her head at herself and continuing on with the climb. After that Kenki had shouted himself hoarse cheering her on. His participation seemed a relief to Momoko, who until then had been frantically alternating between cheerleading for Hiroya _and _Oki in effort to ensure one or the other wasn't left out. Jinpachi was nowhere near as energetic or supportive. He lounged about at the foot of the rocks, sometimes shouting questions or remarks up at the duo but mostly humming and staring out at nothing in particular.

"That's it, Big Sister!" Kenki beamed and threw both arms up in enthusiasm, "You can do it! You're almost there! C'mon Oki! Go, go, go!"

Momoko, distracted by Kenki's shouting, turned away from where she trying to encourage a now panting Hiroya into scrambling those last few rocks to reach the halfway point. When she spied how much farther Oki had managed she immediately drifted over to cheer beside Kenki instead, much to Hiroya's chagrin.

"Stop showing off!" Hiroya bellowed up at her.

"Then move, jeez, Hiroya ya so slow!" Oki called back, panting heavily too, sweat dripping down her face and her hands decorated with a collection of scrapes but she even looked more impressive with her grin and challenging lift of her eyebrow, "I've seen grannies-"pant-"with more hip action than ya!"

"Shut up, Oki!" Hiroya growled.

"Better-" pant, grunt, pant,"-smellin' grannies too!" Oki laughed then squinted down at Hiroya with mock suspicion that was utterly ruined by the smile curling her lips, "you ain't a granny in disguise are ya?"

Hiroya coloured violently red and renewed his past efforts with more viciousness than ever.

"You tryin' to get down with us kids, eh Granny Hiroya?" Oki called, "tryin' ta pinch our cheeks when we ain't lookin' or something?"

Kenki laughed.

"No!" Hiroya yelled, "Course I ain't!"

"Then catch me at the top!" Oki called and with that she swung herself up that last distance and proceeded to preform her victory dance at the top of the rock pile.

Kenki had been so busy celebrating with his sister that he hadn't noticed how quiet Jinpachi and Momoko had become until they started whispering.

"This is how it always starts," Momoko looked up at Hiroya and Oki with concerned eyes, "she _always_ goes too far and someone always gets hurt."

"Yeah," Jinpachi grunted, "maybe we oughta-"

"AH!"

A thud and a shout and Hiroya was suddenly curled up on the floor, nursing his arm and wailing so loudly Kenki was surprised that everyone in Nishihama hadn't heard him. Kenki winced, that instinctive empathic reaction to seeing someone in pain, but could only stand there dumbly while Momoko rushed over. She tried to pry Hiroya's injured arm out of his own death grip but the boy sobbed and pulled it closer to himself.

"What happened?" Oki shouted down, peering over the edge.

Kenki never saw the precise moment Momoko's demeanour changed. One second she was hovering anxiously over her friend and soothing reassurances, and the next she was glaring up at Oki as if his sister had pushed Momoko off the rocks herself.

"_You _happened!" Momoko replied with an amount of venom Kenki hadn't previously expected from the girl, "why you always gotta play so rough, huh?"

"Hey!" Oki bellowed, "How the hell is this my fault? If he ain't up to getting to the top, that's his problem not mine!"

"You're the one who was goin' on about beating him!"

Kenki stood there, completely at a loss as to what he should be doing. He wanted to defend his sister of course, but there was a boy hurt and arguing about culpability didn't seem right. The atmosphere had drastically shifted from the joking competition to a united accusation; and Kenki suddenly felt every ounce of the height, weight and age difference between him and the other children.

"Maybe ya should just go, Oki," Jinpachi looked at her with hard eyes.

Oki glared back for a moment before she 'tut'ed and descended down with more speed than she'd ascended with. A final jump and she was already stomping towards Kenki before both feet had even properly reached the floor.

"C'mon, little brother," Oki muttered, "Let's go."

Kenki nodded, throwing one more hesitant look back at the still sobbing boy and glares of his friends before he followed after her. Kenki felt nervous,_targeted_ even when his back was turned to the group of children, but Oki just kept walking towards their home as if the entire incidence had latched on only to slide harmlessly from her, water off her back. Kenki didn't enjoy the knowledge of being disliked, no one did and he felt somewhat irate that the children would hate him now if only because of his relation to Oki.

Not that he blamed her either. It was all just unfortunate, and Kenki didn't really feel as though he had any right to blame_anyone_ for _anything._

Everything right with his big sister, everything that made her strong were the same characteristics that summed up everything wrong with her. She was the big cat prowling around her pen. Her determination and her durability and competiveness, **everything** that Kenki admired so strongly only made those around her more fragile.

Yes, in ways Oki was more than capable of callousness and inconsideration and impatience mainly because she pitted herself against others and didn't have the nature to bother trying to hide it. Kenki knew that in Oki's mind she thought why_should_ she limit herself? If she wanted to do better, _become_ better than everyone else in Nishihama _why not_ be upfront rather than pretend otherwise? To her, lying about it wouldn't change who she had already decided she was and what that involved. Oki had always possessed a strong awareness of what she was about, so why try to hide it? Kenki knew that she should, _really_. If she ever wanted to find some semblance of truce between her and her peers she should try to act as though she belonged to the same life they did.

Watching her back as she strode on, Kenki came to the realisation that dream or not Oki _needed_ to get out of Nishihama. He had no doubt that Oki could adapt here…eventually, but she'd never really be happy.

Big fish don't stay in little ponds forever without suffocating.


	2. 2: Human Driftwood

Human Driftwood.

In every story Oki had ever heard, the time for change was _felt_ before it ever arrived. The protagonists would feel that stirring in the blood, that pitfall in their gut or that sudden restlessness threading through their nerves before the disaster struck or the antagonist made his first appearance or the quest was bestowed by a beautiful shrine maiden.

For her that moment where change slunk onto the scene and her life was rerouted came unannounced, the newcomer's arrival in Nishihama neither seen nor heard. Years later she would sometimes think back to the 'what-ifs'; what if the man who washed up like so much bad driftwood had _remained_ unseen and unheard.

A storm signalled his coming but it hadn't started with him. There were often onslaughts of rain and residual thunderstorms drifting over from the Land of Lightning, so much so that none of the villagers batted an eyelid. The elders would glance up from where they sat sewing or peeling or napping on their sons' porches, sigh then resignedly warn whoever was passing by at that moment that a storm was coming (_again_) and they'd better fasten down what they could and nail shut what they couldn't.

In fact considering the late hour the storm did eventually sweep in, Oki would not have noticed it had it not been for one reason. Kenki didn't like lightning too much. In fact he didn't seem to relish it _at all_. When the first sheet of rain suddenly began with the motion of a curtain being pulled shut and all the violence of a hammer; Kenki had tried his hardest to keep quiet. Oki had merely eyed him, waiting for the inevitable break in his bravery.

They were at opposite sides of the large futon all three Tachibana children shared. Oki's spot at the window, Kenzo taking up as much room as possible in the middle and finally Kenki huddled up on the edge; wedged right up by the run-down chest of drawers that took much of the remainder of the space in the cramped room. Oki caught a flash of light (blinding, gone and only leaving a slight jittery sensation in her retinas as a parting gift) from between the shutters. She counted. As soon as the first sonorous grumbling of thunder began, Kenki squeaked and was instantly clambering over Kenzo to curl up in the blankets by Oki.

"Ow, what the hell?" Kenzo muttered groggily but had already dozed off again before anyone bothered to answer.

The night _he_ washed up in Nishihama, Oki was fast asleep with her brother curled up under her chin and blissfully unaware that such a man existed.

…

"You're gonna need to be ready to let go," Oki made sure her expression was firm as she explained, "It's gonna be heavy and pull yer forward so you gotta let go before you end up in the sea, alright?"

Kenki nodded with such seriousness it was almost comical, "I can do it big sister."

Oki spared him one last sceptical look before passing the net over. She knew from years of experience how difficult casting the net could be, especially with those weights. Kenki had always been frailer and sicklier than others and for that Oki doubted he'd have the physical strength to complete the task. But Kenki was, as usual, eager to please and when it came to her little brother, Oki just didn't have the heart to snatch this opportunity away from him. So she'd just have to keep an eye on him.

"Right make sure ya steady," Oki watched him stand and position himself with hawk-like attention.

Kenki did just that then pulled the net back ready to throw. Oki had been so absorbed in minding Kenki that she didn't notice the absence of a vital part to the net until Kenki had just cast it into the sea.

"Kenki, wai-"Oki began but it was too late. The net hit the sea, the little orange buoys tied to the top bobbing then steadily ambling along with the path of the current.

Oki watched it go with a sigh, "Little brother…you forgot to tie the weights to the bottom of the net, didn't ya?"

Kenki, who had been looking simultaneously impressed and shocked that he'd managed to throw the net correctly, whipped round to look at her with wide eyes. _That couldn't be good_; Oki closed her eyes and pulled in a breath through her nose.

"….Weights?" Kenki echoed, bewildered.

His head almost blurred as he turned to look at the net again, watching with a tragic disappointment as it meandered away, uncaring to Kenki's heart-broken expression.

"I'm really sorry Oki," Kenki immediately fell over himself trying to apologise, "I thought I'd got it all right this time but…I'm really, really sorry."

"Don't worry 'bout it," Oki shrugged, although she did feel irritated, it was more with the amount of work the mistake would take to rectify than with Kenki.

"I," Kenki was close to tears by now and Oki knew he was likely being far harder on himself than she ever could be, "I'll-I'll go out an' get it! Right now! I'm sorry…."

"Nope," Oki hauled him back just as he made to dive off the boat, "I'll get it later, it's going along into those caves over there see?"

Oki directed one long, thin finger out at a small cluster of open-mouthed caves further along the shore than where Nishihama was located. She tactfully decided to ignore the way Kenki quickly wiped his sleeves under his eyes, struggling to be surreptitious, before he followed the point of her finger. Sure enough the little collection of orange buoys were making alarming progress towards where Oki had predicted, despite the fact they seemed to be moving so idly.

"I'll just run along and grab 'em later when we've finished with the other nets and have got the boat back," Oki continued.

"Is…is it okay to just leave it?" Kenki looked up at her with big, watery eyes.

"Yeah," Oki nodded, "It'll be alright. Besides we need to get these other nets out quick and we can't waste any more time on making mistakes."

Kenki winced and it was only then that Oki realised how that blunt comment had likely sounded. Sometimes she wished she had a better way of hand-picking the words that spilled out of her mouth, if only for his sake. Kenki was so sensitive and Oki was so insensitive. She wouldn't tolerate him crying over something like this but that didn't mean she ever wanted to hurt him in anyway.

"C'mon," Oki sighed and smiled at him, ruffling a hand through the pale blue hair while he hung his head, "let's get going."

…

Oki Tachibana stood at the mouth of a cave.

The atmosphere within was still, guardedly so, and it stank of something that made Oki think of white things rotting in the sway of deep water. And yet, she felt the childish paranoia that something was watching back out at her from inside the cool dark of the cave, closed off from the sun and peace of the water….just _waiting_.

She shook it off. She was being stupid, imagining heavy breaths under the whistle of the wind and monsters where there were none. Her shoes tied about her skinny shoulders by the string of her laces and her bare feet curled around the stone, Oki ventured further in.

It wasn't as dark as she had expected; the gut of the cave easily visible and the lighting more of a gloom than anything, sunlight filtered through smog and under earth. Oki picked through the clusters of rock pools and past the blind, slink skinned marine creatures peering up from them; she hopped from the bank of one side of the narrow stream running through the centre of the cave to the other and scrambled higher when she had an opportunity. She made a game of it, another challenge to overcome, in an effort to chase away any lingering apprehension about eyes watching from dark places. And it worked, she'd almost forgotten about the retrieval of the net until she darted past the first little orange buoy and had to backtrack again.

Oki contemplated it awhile, judging the depth of the water and speed of the current before deciding to nudge it along into a natural bowl of more predictable water attached to the main body of the stream. Of course Oki enjoyed a challenge, but she wasn't stupid. It'd be rather null if she died now because she decided to leap headfirst into an undercurrent; the epitaph 'here lies Oki Tachibana; sister, daughter…dumbass' was not exactly what she had in mind.

She finally managed to manipulate the first of the buoys (and therefore the netting attached to it) into the little pool by throwing one of her shoes at it then reeling it back with the string of shoelace tying it to the other. She may have one squeaky foot when she returned to Nishihama but she would have done exactly what she said she would, and Oki practically lived for that rush of pride she experienced whenever she came through on a claim. Her thin fingers danced along the course rope of the net as they followed the tangles to its source.

She stopped dead.

Her mind threw itself back to that morning at three years old when she had found the body of Akifusa Kirisawa, and it lingered there for a good moment before slipping away again. There was even a symmetry to the way the man was hung up, washed up and dried up in that damp corner of the pool. Except unlike Mr Kirisawa,_this_ man was still alive.

"Hello," the man croaked.

The waxy skin around the brutal, red meat of his burns had an odd shine to it as if someone had had the time and inclination to polish his face. There were strings rather than locks of red hair in places, but the majority of the skin on his skull had been burned away. And the voice that came crawling and choking and snagging from his lips sounded like it had been skinned too many layers too thin by damage. The man Oki found among the net was only a half man; a human that had been chipped and glued and broken apart again by conflict after conflict.

She had never seen a real fight; had never even seen a shinobi up until that point.

But she recognised a veteran when she saw one, with a familiarity that should that had no right existing.

Oki found she could not scream. One part of her mind slipped into the white of panic while another careened into the forefront like a deer bolting from a hunter. She could only watch the burnt man tangled in her father's nets. Her throat felt tiny but her eyes felt huge, and any other part of her had suddenly escaped her notice. But…but Oki found with a detached sort of wry humour, she was not panicked.

No, it wasn't because she believed the man was harmless. And she didn't necessarily feel sympathy enough for his injuries to disregard any of that threat. She couldn't exactly say why it was; curiosity maybe? Water dripped from the roof of the cave, measuring the seconds that the man and Oki Tachibana remained folded away in the little corner of the cave in stagnant silence.

The man stank overpoweringly of human filth and burning meat. It hit Oki like a physical blow and she choked, gagged then pressed the sleeve of her shirt against her nose. Her eyes were watering but she could still see that the man was neither offended nor even bothered in the slightest by her reaction.

Instead he said, "I saw you"-wheeze, pant, wheeze-"scrambling about over there. You're quite the"-gasp, wheeze-"agile little monkey, aren't you?"

Oki did not reply, watching him carefully from where she was crouched. The man only watched back, in his cloud of pungent filth and his eyes an unhealthy yellowish pallor.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Not supposed to talk ta strangers," Oki grumbled.

"You've seen me"-wheeze-"sitting in my own piss and shit, I'd hardly call us"-pant-"strangers," the man's gaze was bland, as if he were thoroughly unimpressed with all the unnecessary nuances of conversation.

"I suppose ya got a point," Oki allowed (she didn't know this man, but she was likely seeing him at his lowest and that oddly enough inched them somewhere into and beyond acquaintances).

But she wasn't exactly going to tell him her name. She didn't know if there was anything he could even DO with the information, but he was still an unknown nonetheless. The worst someone could really do in Nishihama was cheat on their spouse or steal from their neighbour. Oki didn't know what this man could do, but he looked and felt like war and her mind was all too eager to fill in the blanks.

"To you, I'm Princess Jellypants," Oki frowned, "who're you anyways? Why're you in this cave? What happened to ya face?"

The small smile revealed a row of short, knocked teeth and even with the ruined mess of his face Oki could recognise the look as brittle, condescending amusement.

"Curious one, aren't you Princess Jellypants?" the man wheezed, "aren't you scared?"

Oki couldn't lie and she didn't see the point in it, whether she lied or not she'd still remain a little girl talking to a burned man that smelt of blood and human waste.

"I am, yeah kinda," she replied.

It lapsed into silence. Oki felt this would be the ideal moment to slip away, leave the man to the nets and the stream and the gloom, but she just..._couldn't_. He was an anomaly and Nishihama was not a place accustomed to anomalies. No matter how wary she was of this man, the sensation that leaving now would be leaving an opportunity that would never be repeated again was stronger.

The man looked equally surprised (in his own tired way) that she remained. He huffed another wheezing sigh and watched her from one eye.

"Do you intend to watch me die?"

Oki turned the question over in her head and replied with the only answer she had, "I dunno."

This earned her another short breath of amusement, wet and rasping, before with a dry twist to his lips the man titled his head back and just looked at her. For some bizarre reason Oki suddenly felt more grounded regarding his company, as if she had passed some test she wasn't even aware she was taking. She didn't feel safe, no, but she didn't feel as though something would strike out and catch her without proper notification first anymore.

"How old are you Princess Jellypants?" he asked, that dry humour lying heavily on the name she had given again.

"Old 'nough to know not to tell ya too much," Oki pressed her sleeve closer to her nose.

"Smart enough, you"-wheeze-"mean. Age has nothing to do with intellect," the man replied in a drawl.

Oki found herself grinning and snorting at that, then after a moment, "So who are ya anyways? Ya didn't answer."

"I'm a shinobi," he replied, "are you aware-"wheeze, pant, wheeze, "-of what a shinobi is?"

"It's a ninja, right?" Oki frowned, "how come ya here then? You can't be very good if ya ended up at Nishihama."

"Obviously not," the man muttered before raising his voice to reply, "It doesn't matter why I'm here and I don't-" cough, wheeze"-feel inclined to answer."

Oki frowned but said nothing more. The sound of the man's laboured breathing was the only noise besides that of dripping of water. The men regarded her with exhausted eyes that had seen too much, done too much and were _tired_ of it all; only capable of finding the energy to view the world with a black, helpless gallows humour. Oki met his gaze, hers by comparison were bright and dark; two little sparrow eyes full to bursting with childish illusions of grandeur and still in love with the mysteries of the world.

It was visible, the exact moment the man's attention on Oki shifted. Something flashed across his dead-eyed gaze like a current running the length of a wire, another unexpected (and partially unwanted) hunger for life.

"You do know what it is a shinobi does?" he asked but there was something careful in his tone now.

"Kinda," Oki mulled, "...no, not really. All I knows is that ya kinda like soldiers."

"We're exactly that, I suppose, though solider doesn't seem to-" wheeze "-give what _we_ do enough justice," the man replied, "come here."

"Nah, thanks," Oki frowned, "I think I'm better where I am."

"Very well," he replied, nonplussed, and then he did something that would forever remain in Oki's memory.

With much grunting and wheezing and wet noises that made goose bumps spring and scatter across the skin of Oki's back, the man hauled his arms out the water. They, like his face, were hideous and fascinating; the tips missing of three of his fingers on his right hand, every inch of skin was sallow and decorated in a lattice of scars. But the way they moved in gestures and shapes Oki had never seen before was..._beautiful_. She had no other word to describe it; the fastidiousness and rigidity of each shape they made flowing into the next like water, control dancing palm to palm with grace.

As they finished, Oki stared transfixed as the water surrounding his legs bowed and folded back on itself leaving a perfect circle of rock where he sat and a shallow wall of water rippling about the empty space. Her mouth swung open and her sleeve fell away from her nose, every muscle in her body lax while her eyes latched onto the spectacle as if they were incapable of seeing anything else ever again.

"...How..." Oki breathed.

"Ninjustu," the man replied, the water rushed in again when he released his hands and settled about his ruined body once more.

"I don't expect-" wheeze "-anyone in Nishihama has _seen _anything like that, much less been capable of anything like that. Correct?"

Dumbly Oki nodded, scrambling down to place her hands flat against the water just for verification that what she had seen was real.

"Would you like to learn?"

The question remained unregistered in Oki's mind for minutes on end. When it finally did connect with a sharp, mental snap, she almost overbalanced into the water.

"Yeah!" Oki's fingers cut into the rock as she righted herself but she could hardly care.

Her breathing came in a pant, heart hammering she stared. Was this _the _moment? The opportunity, the beginning of that great journey she had imagined, coming from the gloom of the cave and seeking her out like a beam of bright light. In her mind _this_ was that the hook and pull of destiny.

The man with the destroyed face and tired eyes didn't fit the images of those wise, old teachers from the fables she had heard, but did that matter? The 'bigger, better' as Jinpachi called it had called for her and how could she loose it to lack of passion? She had never in her life seen a human being do something as beautiful as the way that man had moved the water. It belonged to a life outside what Nishihama offered, and Oki knew she couldn't let the things the man had allowed her a glimpse into pass by without her.

"Yes, teach me!" Oki yelled with more force than she had meant to but less force than was pounding in her veins.

"You look nimble enough, intelligent enough too," the man croaked, "how strong are you?"

"Really strong!" Oki enthused, "I'm the best fisher in Nishihama outta all the other kids and better than some of the adults too!"

"Heh. Well I suppose that seals it then."

Oki squeaked a small noise of excitement, unable to stop the emotion bubbling over.

"However...you'll have to do something for me first," the man spoke matter-of-factly, as if he weren't really invested in what her answer would be one way or the other.

Oki's mood immediately began to deflate and she hated the man a moment for that. Suspicion was clear in her eyes, in the way her body stilled and the sharp frown uncurling over her lips.

"Huh?" Oki muttered, "what's that then?"

"Nothing too risky, I assure you-" wheeze "-I merely need food and blankets. I can hardly teach you if I don't survive the night," he rasped.

"You got a point," Oki nodded as relief buoyed the sinking of her earlier mood, "alright, I'll get you some stuff but you gotta swear you're gonna teach me."

"You have a deal."

"Nah," Oki replied with great gravity, "nah, you have to**swear** it."

Another dry smile and bitter, exhausted humour, "I swear."

….

Oki practically flew back home, sand puffing up from her footfalls and pebbles sliding under her feet. Kenki stood, fidgeting and watching the sea, with nervous eyes on the coastline. His face instantly beamed as he caught sight of his sister scrambling madly into view.

"Oki!" Kenki called, running to meet her, "Are you okay? Ya were gone for ages now, I was startin' to worry."

Oki paused; she'd been so caught up in what she had seen and all it promised that she had-for a moment-completely forgotten about the real world outside the cave. She tightened her empty hands when she realised that she'd come sprinting back up the beach_without_ the net; the same net that had led her to_him_, he who had led her to those beautiful otherworldly actions. What had he called it again, Ninjustsu? It felt unreal all of a sudden; as if when Oki had been spat out of the cave, she'd also been spat out of some secret corner of the world. It was far away from Nishihama, far away from the quiet everyday little problems that plagued the village. It felt bigger, better and more significant than_anything _that could _ever_ happen in Nishihama, and it was _she_ who had been allowed that peek between the curtains.

Kenki was watching her carefully now, "Big sister, is there something wrong?"

Oki blinked. She stared at Kenki for a few moments as if she'd never seen her little brother before as her mind receded back from the stars behind her eyes and onto the windy, melancholy beach of Nishihama again.

"Huh? Er, yeah I'm fine. You okay?"

"Yeah," Kenki replied slowly, giving her another concerned glance, "I was just askin' why'd it take so long...are ya sure you're alright, Oki, you look a little….out of it?"

"Nope," Oki shook herself, "I'm really fine. I just need to get some stuff to-"

Oki cut herself off. She glanced down at the wide, trusting eyes of her little brother then back towards the cave and all those wonderful, impossible things it hid. Should she really tell Kenki? She trusted her brother but she didn't necessarily trust the man in the cave. She felt that she and he had come to some strange understanding or maybe a reliance on one another, but would that shaky goodwill extend to Kenki?

And, maybe more than that, Oki didn't_want_ to tell her little brother. It made her wince to acknowledge it but somehow she knew that she wanted to keep this _to_ herself, _for_ herself. She had been omitted to this secret club and she wanted to keep all that knowledge untarnished and _hers_. She didn't want every kid in Nishihama being taught by that man and she didn't want every adult tramping through the cave and restricting the situation to those they felt had more right to it. It was _her_ discovery, _her_ destiny calling and Oki was unprepared and unwilling to share it out with anyone else.

Anything else Kenki could have asked of her (food, warmth, all her possessions) but not **_this_**, not her permit into a world beyond the suffocation of Nishihama.

"To?" Kenki echoed, looking up at her with that same trusting smile and loyal eyes. Oki noticed with another guilty twinge that even the descriptions of Kenki in her head were akin to a puppy bounding at her heels.

"To cut the rope, and get it free and stuff," Oki finally mumbled out, unable to meet her little brother's eyes.

"Oh, okay," Kenki breathed, "do you need any help?"

"Nah, it's okay Kenki. It might take a while though, so you should…." Oki trailed off, realising for the first time that Kenki didn't actually do_anything_ without her.

"Are ya sure?" Kenki interrupted, "I mean I'm really sorry, I've just made more work for you and-"

Oki felt a flare of impatience and evidently it showed on her face. That haste to return to the cave dampened drastically as Kenki hung his head and muttered another sorry. Oki felt herself recoil, why was she forever upsetting Kenki? Why couldn't she learn her damn lesson when it came to him? And now she was _lying_ to him too.

She may be able to run the fastest, climb the highest and fish the most; but Oki felt sometimes that she was consistently failing her little brother. She stretched out a hand ready to ruffle his hair as the action seemed to put both of them at ease, smoothing over any momentary hurt with genuinely fond contact. But she stopped. Her hand hovered, unnoticed by Kenki's lowered head, and then slowly it retracted back to her side.

"Alright, let's go," Oki muttered and took off towards home again, Kenki following after.

When they pushed the door open, both were slightly surprised to find Kenzo sprawled out across the ratty rug. He had both eyes shut tightly and two long fingers were desperately rubbing at the centre of his forehead. Oki immediately slammed the door shut and began bustling around the small abode, collecting bits and pieces from cupboards or chest as she went.

"Oi! Stop makin' so much noise I got a headache!" Kenzo grumbled, squinting one eye open to glare at his younger sister.

"Can't be too bad, if ya can stand yellin' at us," Oki muttered.

"Shut up," Kenzo snapped then seemed to notice the speed and intensity with which Oki was picking through their belongings, "what ya doin?"

"Nothin' shut up," Oki replied absentmindedly with a half-hearted waving motion of her hand, "go back to bein' a lazy slug."

"Maybe I will," Kenzo huffed.

"Go on then," Oki muttered back with little to no interest.

"Fine," Kenzo flopped himself back on the floor and glared obstinately up at the ceiling. He quickly grew bored of that when Oki didn't bother to react to his presence again. Ignoring the sounds of Oki running from room to room and rummaging around, Kenzo rolled his head to stare instead at Kenki hesitating at the doorway.

Kenki always looked as though he was sorry for intruding whenever he entered the Tachibana house, so Kenzo was by now completely accustomed to seeing his little brother's timid expression and habit of making himself seem as small as possible against the warped frame of the door. What did surprise Kenzo was the fact that his little brother was not (for once) glued to his sister's side.

"You not gonna go thieving around our stuff with her?" Kenzo asked.

"It ain't thieving when it's your own stuff," Oki's voice called from somewhere deep in a kitchen cupboard, "idiot."

"Shut up!" Kenzo yelled back then returned his focus to Kenki with an expression that clearly showed he was still (impatiently) waiting on an answer.

"No," Kenki replied softly, "Big sister says that she'll do it."

"Do what?" Kenzo asked but Oki answered before Kenki could even open his mouth.

"One of the nets got stuck, need to get it out," she said very to-the-point and brisk.

"Yeah?" Kenzo drawled, "And you need half a loaf of bread to cut a net, right?"

Oki frowned at him, "It's really hard bread."

"Uh-huh," Kenzo invested enormous effort into looking unconvinced.

"Probably hard 'nough to kill you if I threw it at your fat head anyway," Oki muttered.

"You muttering 'bout me again Oki?" Kenzo frowned.

"Yeah," Oki said in unapologetic reply.

Kenzo fumed silently for a moment until the angry red drained from his cheeks.

"Dad ain't gonna like you stealing all our food," Kenzo smirked but it was a hollow threat and all three Tachibana siblings knew it. Their father was unlikely to _notice _the food was gone, never mind _care_.

Kenzo and Kenki stood (or lay spread-eagle in Kenzo's case) there awhile and watched as their sister darted about every corner in their tiny house, efficiently ruthless as she shifted through draws and bundled her finds up in a grey sheet of tarp. She puffed a breath, and heaved the bulging make-shift sack over her skinny shoulder before making for the door. It was only when the salt-aired wind was hitting at her face and the cry of the gulls ringing in her ears, that Oki turned back to face her older brother.

"Kenzo, can you watch Kenki for a bit?" Oki put effort into not directly looking at her little brother's bewildered face.

"Huh?...Er, yeah sure, sure," Kenzo nodded dumbly.

"Thanks," Oki flashed a brief smile before she was gone in a flurry of clinking and clanking, a hunch-backed shape racing across the beach. Kenki's confused and slightly hurt expression streaming behind while the cave folded out before her.

Oki hopped and scurried her way through the cave, careful not to spill any of her belongings. In her excitement, she managed to pass the little secluded area once before sprinting back and zeroing in on the orange buoy like a beacon. The man had not moved breathing strenuously with his eyes curtained shut.

"Hey," Oki whispered, "Hey, wake up."

He stirred and slid his eyes open, picking her out in the gloom.

"I got the stuff," Oki jingled the sack on her back for emphasis.

The man merely nodded, too tired to do anything else. Oki eyed him. She knew he was in bad shape, besides the corpse of Akifusa Kirisawa she'd never seen someone in such a thin state and even then the man seemed to push those boundaries with the raw, evident pain it was causing him to continue living.

"You ain't gonna die on me are ya?" Oki asked with equal measures concern and reproach.

The man sighed heavily, though it seemed to be more with his situation as a whole than the girl's question, "I have-" wheeze, cough, wheeze "-I have a stronger life force than most, thanks to Uzumaki blood but that must have been two generations back in my family now."

"What the hells a Uzumaki?" Oki's eyebrows furrowed, "is it some kind of disease or something?"

"It is an old ninja clan, mostly gone now. Scattered after the fall of Uzushiogakure," the man replied in a tone that was accustomed to repeating information, "Most settled in Konohagakure, but you can find a few ancestors of the clan in a few families in most of the Ninja Villages."

"Uzushiogakure?" Oki crept closer.

The man only nodded, clearly exhausted with relenting even that much information. Oki listened to his shallow breathing as it filled and emptied the cave again and again with each hitching breath for a moment, but she quickly grew impatient. She had been expecting a sudden rush of information to come pouring over her the moment she set foot in the cave, and only now realised that the task may be more difficult than she had previously anticipated.

"So," Oki began, eyeing her surroundings, "when are you gonna teach me how to do that thing with the water?"

Once again, the man opened a single eye, "we'll have to begin from the basics. Give me a moment to gather my strength."

"Why?"

"Because we'll need to move my body onto-"wheeze "-that ledge above us, or I'll freeze to death in the water overnight."

"Nah," Oki smiled feeling proud of herself for thinking ahead, "I brought some tarp, we only need to pull you up a little way and the tarp'll do the rest to keep the water out. I got food, and bandages and a whole flask of tea too. Oh, and some water, more rope and….ah, a knife to cut you outta the net. I got some other stuff too I think."

Both eyes slid open this time as the man seemed to reassess Oki. She preened under his gaze, her smile growing wider as her efforts were recognised.

"I'm impressed," the man finally muttered, "you're more intelligent than I previously gave you credit for."

"Thanks," Oki grinned widely then cocked a brow, "but did you think I was a moron or something before, then?"

Another dry twist of humour, "you're most welcome."

They managed to lever the man up onto the ledge of rock above the pool using the ropes and the tarp. Nevertheless it was difficult work, made more difficult by both Oki's relatively small strength and stature, and the man's drained state. Why he did not simply climb onto the rocks behind him became apparent as both of his legs where twisted and limp from the knees downwards. She realised this information with equal measures of trepidation and pride. The man who stank of smoke and death was almost completely reliant on her-an eight year old-for movement. It was reassuring to know that someone who gave off such a dangerous undertones had need of her at that moment, but still she winced at what that knowledge must do to the man's pride. Not that the man had indicated he had much _use_ for pride anymore.

Oki, panting and sweating, looked on at the useless limbs with morbid fascination, "holy crap, what the hell were ya doing to get so roughed up."

The man (who was in a worse state than she was and had repeatedly almost tiptoed into the point of passing out) barked a bitter, exhausted laugh.

"Believe it or not," he rasped, "I ended up like this while trying to fake my own death."

"Well," Oki grunted as she tugged at the rope securing his waist again, "I guess it kinda worked a little _too_ well, huh? Ya look half-way there to me."

"Quite," the man gasped with pain as his ragged body slid over the jutting edges of the stone.

"What was ya doin' that for anyway?" Oki continued, "sounds kinda stupid."

Something in the air about the man changed at that. It became heavier and darker, wrapping around his destroyed body like a cloak and swallowing him up in the sharp-edged creases. Oki, for a moment, watched as all the shine and newness the man with the ruined face had come to represent melted away, leaving only the sad, broken little person behind. And in that moment, that naked glimpse terrified her for reasons she could not quite explain.

"You wouldn't understand," he whispered and he said nothing more for a long time afterward.

Oki, after much badgering, eventually took the hint and worked in silence. The closer they came to settling the man onto drier and more level ground, the closer Oki had to come into contact with her human deadweight. She had to pause more and more frequently from a combination of the need to catch her breath and retch drily at the stink of him. In response the man seemed neither remorseful nor defensive about his state, instead watching with a bland scrutiny as Oki hobbled away and drew in her fill of cleaner air.

Neither was sure how long it took until they were satisfied (Oki fussing over the perfection of the end result longer than the man) but to Oki it felt like long hours and to the man long _years_. Both were panting and sweating heavily when finished, Oki stretching at the sore muscles of her back and arms while the man tried to keep a grip on consciousness. Eventually they settled; she eyed the pallid face of the man beside her, sweat pouring down the spoiled flesh of his burns and whole skin both.

"You alright?" she asked, eyeing him observantly.

"No," he breathed between wheezes and pants, "But I doubt I'll ever be up to standard again."

Oki was unsure what to say to that, so she sat in silence frowning out at the cave and slapping a rhythm against the rocks between her bare feet. She waited on an answer and several more seconds of wrung out quiet and Oki's dwindling patience later; the man finally deigned to reply.

"But," the man sighed, "I suspect I'll survive regardless. Life seems to have a penchant for dark irony."

"Alright then," she grinned and nodded, "I dunno what 'dark ironings' got to do with anything but are ya gonna get started now?"

He titled his head to eye her and Oki stared back, brazen and barefaced in her expectations. Time continued to seep through, and still the man was regarding her in a sense that was strangely materialistic. The way he was evaluating her stripped away unnecessary characteristics such as eye colour, parents or family circumstances and seeing her in a list of qualities, weighing them and calculating, adding and deducing until he was able to see the clear amount of what she was worth; the product was future potential and the man's currency was time and effort.

It was only then that Oki noticed that she'd been referring to him as 'the burnt man' in her head.

"Hey," she interrupted, receiving a brief flicker of attention from him before he continued with his task, "what do I call ya anyway? You've gotta have a man right?"

"I do," he replied still performing his analysis, "but you can call me Teacher."

"Huh, why? If you've got a name, you might as well use it, right?" Oki frowned, trying but failing to see where he was coming from, "Is it embarrassing like Momo or Usagi or something?"

"No."

"Then just tell me."

"It's not as simple as that."

"Well it oughta be," Oki rebuffed, "it's only me and you here, right?"

"And yet," the man raised his head to meet her eyes again, "you've denied to give me_your _name also."

"That's different," Oki frowned in thought.

"How so?" the man's tone was distracted again, preoccupied with quantify the girl's value.

"Because you could probably kill me if ya wanted to."

He stopped at that, exhausted off-tone eyes snapping up to Oki's with a speed and energy she had previously thought forever abandoned by the man. She startled slightly but managed to collect herself in time.

"And how did you know that? You weren't aware that I was a shinobi-" wheeze "-when you entered the cave."

"Nah, I didn't know you were a ninja," Oki answered carefully, "but you just….I dunno, _felt_ different to everyone else I ever met before….kinda _dangerous_, I guess."

The man continued to watch her silently for seconds after then as quickly as it had come, the sharpness in his eyes faded away again. Oki reshuffled herself, eyeing him warily now. He was no longer scrutinising her at least, instead picking through the supplies she had hauled down for him and neatly setting them into piles. Eventually Oki's guardedness was worn away under curiosity and (being a fellow maker of neat, orderly piles) she came to peer over his shoulder.

"You didn't tell me what to call you," she popped up at his shoulder with a dogged expression.

"I believe I told you to call me Teacher," he replied in those dry tones.

"Nah," Oki frowned, "I don't mean none of that mystery crap-" she illustrated the word 'mystery' with vague, ridiculous arm wobbles, "-what's your real name?"

"Persistent," the man muttered then sighed, "very well."

Oki grinned, scrambling forward at absolute ready attention.

"It is…Princess Jellypants," the man delivered in a voice as solemn as cracked earth and twice as dry.

A pause. Then Oki collapsed into a mess of laughter, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light of the cave.

…..

That first day not much was achieved. Teacher (as Oki had grudgingly accepted calling him) was stretched too thinly to manage much, even speaking was a battle for him. And yet, he understood the fortune of it being Oki Tachibana who happened across him and not some skittish tattler or paranoid fisherman, so he did not intend to waste the opportunity. Even with such little desire to live, there _was_ a desire nonetheless.

He had to retain the girl's rapidly waning interest.

He gave her the bare basics of how chakra worked, the fundamentals dressed down for toddlers, and did not expect there to be such a receptive response. Oki had not even heard of chakra, and the notion that she unwittingly had had this power all along was one that appealed to her greatly. Especially the aspects about chakra being comprised of both her spiritual and physical energy melded together into a malleable force. _Her_ power being fed by _her_ work and all controlled by _her_ will.

To someone with such a strong sense of identity, Oki thought chakra must be the ultimate sense of strength and expression. At the moment, he had explained, her own chakra stores would be very low because she had not-like shinobi-been training to develop them. But Oki focused on the fact that they were _there_. There _was_ potential.

Teacher told her to sit and simply 'sense out' her chakra. Oki had at first complained about the simplicity of the task, but no amount of relentless questions had stirred him and she'd eventually resigned herself to the exercise. It had proven far more difficult than she had anticipated.

There was barely anything there and what had existed had been there for so long, its presence accepted but overlooked, that Oki had no notion of which parts of her were this chakra and which she was generating in her mind. Every few moments she would look up with a grin, believing that she'd finally pin-pointed this fountain of potential only to find it was nothing and she'd merely generated the sensation out of pure frustration. It was not unlike searching for the keys for her father's locks, Oki knew that they must be there in the house (in these circumstances, her body) and she must have passed them over time and time again, and******_yet_** they eluded her.

"Oi Teacher," she frowned, "this ain't working. I can't feel anything."

He didn't reply, Oki had to creep closer to hear that the tempo of his pained breathing had changed, growing softer and more even. Asleep then. She debated shaking him awake but thought better of it, besides she hardly wanted him to witness her first stumbling failures when she'd already milked all the advice out of him that she possibly could.

"You want it, you work for it, you take it," Oki murmured the same mantra that had sailed her through life thus far.

Frowning at her hands she repeated with more force, "you want it, you work for it, you**take** it."

Something caught a faint flicker at the edges of her body teasing in and out of her senses and Oki barrelled after it. Like a bloodhound she followed, crashing through sensations that she recognised as phantoms from before and repeating the chant over and over, feeling the will harden and sharpen in her chest. She was only trying to sense that small amount of chakra running through the system Teacher had assured her she possessed, and yet Oki felt as though she was hunting down much bigger game. This fantasy only aided in this situation, pumping the stakes higher and driving Oki on with more seriousness that the task really required.

There! Oki met another dead-end; a moment of irritation and then the search was on again. She lost herself in the hours, feeding her fancy until it became the very manifestation of her invented _destiny_ she was scouring her body for. Another flicker, Oki rode through it and then, with a slow grin of triumph, realised that she was feeling the meagre flow of her chakra. She traced it up and down, left and right like a cat trailing a bug. She knew it with the same certainty of her heartbeat if she were to press her finger against her own pulse.

"Ah! Teacher, I got it! I got it!" Oki dashed over to him, any lingering wariness and the raw wrongness of his face forgotten in the bright flare of her triumph.

His regard was bleary, fevered, and it took him a moment to connect the child grinning at him excitedly to present, and the dreams of body piles and blood red skies to the past.

"Oh," he breathed, coughing violently as he shifted his body onto his back, "that was quicker than I anticipated."

"Course!" Oki grinned, "I told ya I was the best fisher in Nishihama, right?"

"You did," he replied drily.

"So, what's next?" Her grin was only growing, the triumph and consequential possibilities of that shining fever-bright in her eyes.

"It is late; I think that's enough for today."

Oki looked about her and only dumbly noticed the suddenly insistent dark pressing in around them. She'd spent near enough her entire day in the cave and unlike her Teacher there would be people in the world outside it that expected her continued existence. But still….Oki could not regret what she had done. With her victory singing through her eight year old veins Oki Tachibana could not bring herself to regret any of her past mistakes, only revel in her triumphs. She was blind to all else, full to bursting with the excitement of everything that this one win promised.

"It should be easier to find now, and the more you practice, the more it will become second nature," he rasped and with that he turned his back to her again and drifted back into that in-between state.

Oki lingered for a moment before tearing off home again.

She prodded at her chakra throughout the journey like a loose tooth, feeling aftershocks of exhilaration ripple through her each time the thread of energy became easier to locate. When Oki did eventually make it home the sun was just sinking out of sight again, coopers and pinks sliding off the tin-roofs and darkness uncurling between the coastal grasses from under the void spaces of Nishihama's homes. The cold was rushing in and Oki could hear the breath of the sea in her ears.

Oki took the steps two at a time, beaming, until she stopped when she caught sight of what awaited her at the top.

Kenki Tachibana was curled up in front of their door, arms hugging his legs to his waist and his head resting on his knees. His face was soft and unworried in sleep, repose making an already young face that much younger and more vulnerable.

Gently Oki lifted her little brother up against her chest, grunting at the weight on her sore arms. He stirred and blearily mumbled something about waiting for his big sister but it was fragmented and Kenki was lost to sleep again before the waking world could properly take hold. Kenzo was out and their father, who had barely noticed their absence, didn't blink at their entrance either. Deciding to forgo dinner and simply tucked both her Kenki into bed.

Exhaustion and the events of the day took her without Oki even noticing. That night she dreamt of streams of energy flowing like milky starlight through her body and Teacher as a terrible spider tangled in his web of nets.

**A/N:**

**I apologise that it's a bit slow these first couple of chapters but if all goes to plan she should be in Kirigakure by chapter 5. Hopefully, you're enjoying it so far regardless. **

**I really wanted to write an OC that grew up in an environment outside a shinobi village and then had to later adapt to that way of life, hence Nishihama and the Tachibana family. As to 'Teacher' he will remain nameless, and it's up to you to guess whether his intentions are pure or not ;) (btw he's not a paedophile, I just realised how that last sentence sounded -_- )**

**THANKS FOR READING!**


	3. 3: A ring on a chain

A ring on a chain.

She was cautious at first with her visits to the cave.

But with each visit that went disregarded and unchallenged, Oki's confidence grew. And as her confidence with sneaking away after her chores grew, as did the time she spent in the damp cave listening to a burned survivor. No one opposed her; as long as she was doing the work set to her no one questioned what she chose to occupy the rest of her time with.

Except Kenki.

But Kenki's questions and concerns were never direct, always sad-eyes behind her back and wavering smiles to hide his disappoint, in fear that the central figure in his life up to that point would slip further from him. As time passed, Kenki's questions grew quieter and quieter. And Oki was blind, deaf and dumb to everything but this new world she craved to throw herself head-first into.

Every day she was carted down what supplies she could bring that would not put her family in more desperate need, and every day her Teacher would wolf down the hard bread or under-ripe fruit with more ferocity than Oki had ever seen someone commit to food. As weeks bled into months, he began to expand a more corporal presence in the waking world, no longer was he that thinly-scrapped barely there _thing_ hanging like a tattered cloth between life and death. His attitude however remained very much the same.

Oki had long become accustomed to her Teacher's dry, black humour and equally colourless approach to life. Some days his lack of drive bothered her to no ends and other days Oki enjoyed it, suddenly feeling more mature when listening to his jaded outlook. The majority of his comments however were lost in translation. Oki never knowing or understanding the abject bleakness that had overshadowed her Teacher's life beforehand, but she listened nonetheless seeing each mention of his escapes from POW camps as an adventure or the murders he'd committed as those age-old elaborate battles of good vs evil.

The more time Oki Tachibana spent with him and the world he blew life into within the dim, musty air of the cave; the more she began to resent the people of Nishihama and the world outside it. If she had felt fettered to her simple surroundings before, she was suffocating in them now. There was rarely a night when she ate with her family or conversed with Momoko and Jinpachi as they hauled their catch onto the coastline. But whenever Oki _did_ find herself in such a situation she could not help glancing around her with barely controlled impatience. Whether Mr and Mrs Yuno were arguing again didn't _matter_. Why was everyone in Nishihama so absorbed by these little irregularities to their mundane schedules when there was an entire _world_ out there that Oki was only just beginning to learn about?

She felt cheated, vindicated almost, that everyone else could be content with such measly aspirations yet she was not and still _she_ was also chained to them. Oki not only felt different because she was now somehow (in her mind) liberated by this knowledge of there being something more than the cycle of birth, marriage, children then death in Nishihama; but also because none of the other villagers seemed interested in even faintly _imagining _that another way of life existed .

All of a sudden Oki could not stand the lack of ambition around her. It had always irritated her that she was considered the wrongdoer for bringing competition and a need for improvement into everything she did, but she had never before meeting Teacher felt so disconnected to Nishihama and its small spattering of people.

Only Kenki escaped this judgement. Kenki would follow her anywhere; Oki knew this without reservation or even the tiniest slither of doubt. She had forgotten how often she'd been on the cusp of revealing the secret behind her near-constant disappearances to him, only to swallow her tongue at the very last moment.

The majority of her reluctance was due to Oki's doubts about Kenki's safety. Her little brother was far more sensitive than her and Oki had a bad habit of underestimating him. As a result she didn't feel safe with Kenki being within spitting distance of Teacher. She wasn't entirely stupid, she knew what a thin line she was treading when associating with a creature fostered within war as Teacher had been. But for the moment she was useful to him and (even crippled as he was) hardly a threat. Oki was willing to push herself through the danger if it meant more knowledge being drip-fed to her, but Kenki? Kenki would slip up. Kenki would let his natural sympathy overpower him and make a mistake. And that would be all her Teacher needed.

That, and for all Oki's disdain for the apparent lack of awareness those around her possessed, she didn't _want_ anyone else knowing and doing what Teacher taught her. It was an oxymoron of emotion, she wanted those around her to be a challenge, to be more likeminded yet at the same moment she relished the knowledge that she was somehow different to them all. Oki (now on the verge of nine years old) had never outgrown this vision of her own grand destiny.

She attempted to explain this to Teacher, only omitting the name of the village rather than the size or facilities, while he was bathing. Body consciousness did not exist within the small spaces of Nishihama, families bathed together to save water and clothes were removed even by adults when heatwaves or circumstances demanded. Oki had been expecting her Teacher to share a similar stance on body objectivity, what with his attitude to nearly all subjects so far being disinterested and bitterly amused.

Teacher however had been cagey, even to the point of absurdity considering he could move himself into the water alone. He'd finally relented that Oki could crouch at the edge, a good way away and with her back bared to him.

His voice drifted over the stillness of the cave (despite knowing he was bathing, Oki could not hear even the mildest disturbance of water) when she'd finished voicing her frustrations, "that seems about right."

"Huh?" Oki tilted her head, finding talking to him without facial cues incredibly odd, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that such a line of thought suits your character," Teacher replied flatly.

Oki huffed, "you enjoyin' your mouldy, old rock pool bath?"

"I am, yes," he replied unfazed.

"I hope somethin' bites you on the butt," Oki muttered, digging a finger into a crevice on the rock she was perched on.

Dim sunlight filtered through the gloom of the cave, the pull and the draw of the ocean echoed distantly through its contours and moulded into the smoky atmosphere, while the scream of gulls from the cave's mouth suddenly seemed too sharp, too intrusive. She tried to sense everything about her-every current, every stone, every pump of her Teacher's heart-as he had told her to, imagining villains hiding in shadowy corners that needed defeating. Then when she grew bored of that, she began practicing her hand seals though the shapes she made with her long, thin fingers were clumsy and infantile compared to Teacher's.

"I did not necessarily say that was a bad thing," her Teacher called over, "In fact, it what makes you suitable."

Oki's head snapped up from where she'd been peering into the cave, a sharp-toothed grin already inching onto her lips, "that right?"

"Yes," he smiled drily, "that is correct."

Oki laughed, her little chest puffing up and her eyes crinkling into crescents.

"The shinobi arts," he continued while she preened, "are difficult to master. Two qualities that are imperative to prospective students are both determination and drive."

"And I got them right?" Oki eagerly nodded him on.

"Yes…along with the third desirable prerequisite."

"Yeah?" Oki's grin grew missing the calculating gleam in his eyes, "And what's that?"

"An innate ability _for_ and indifference _to_ committing violence when promoting a self-serving agenda," the man replied in the same tone as he had been listing the others, not a single eyelid batted, "though of course this quality is later twisted until the 'self-serving agenda' becomes that of the village's interests," another bitter huff of laughter, "they were rather skilled at that. You don't even realise it's happening until…later, and by then you don't recognise yourself enough to care."

Oki felt the colour drain from her face. Her Teacher continued, heedless or maybe uncaring to the sudden rigidity of her body. Perhaps he did not even see_how_ what he had said would shock her? Perhaps he couldn't even understand _why_? But what shocked Oki more than anything was the fact that not only had she never (until that moment) considered that aspect of herself, but now that she was she couldn't entirely disagree.

She'd never been sympathetic towards losers. Always driving herself to _do_ better, _reach _that next level, _perfect_ an already existing art and**take** as that old code said, without hesitation and with little to no regard about the people that lost to her wins.

"You would have done very well in my class," he finished but Oki did not answer.

….

Oki's 'training' as she'd satisfyingly taken to calling it was regimented. Although her teacher seemed to inject as much enthusiasm and solemnity as he did with everything else (which is to say, not much), Oki in spirit of her own fastidious nature had taken it upon herself to outline her daily routine for them both. Her Teacher unfortunately learned how bossy and ambitious his new student could be, and the student in question learned that her Teacher didn't have the energy to care much about her approach.

After setting the nets out with her little brother each morning, Oki would sit with him (occasionally in peace, commonly with her imparting more stern instructions or bundling them both up in the excitement of another of her theories) before tearing off down the beach. Then it would be physical exercises, all directed by her Teacher as he ate whatever she'd pilfered for him that day and growing steadily more complex. Weeks later, when he was feeling rested her Teacher created a clone and physical lessons on sparring manoeuvres and attack stances began.

Oki lapped these up as she did anything else he taught her. She practiced the same hold again and again and again until she was sufficiently satisfied with her results, then would promptly move onto the next. When exhausted, she would sit and listen as he recounted Chakra theory, Histories of the Five Great Nations and the wars they waged upon one another, tactics (that proved difficult to grasp at first, but after repeated questions she was finding it progressively easier to understand her Teacher's complicated speech) and shinobi philosophy. These aspects of training were alternatively easier and harder for Oki. She couldn't quite connect the reality her Teacher told her about to the one she existed in but her keenness to become part of the body of this massively more impressive world meant that her concentration on every word was almost unnerving.

And lastly, when her energy had been recovered, the day would wind down with chakra exercises. Like everything else, these started small but grew as time went on. Oki's daily schedule involved tying a buoy about her waist and water-walking as far as possible until she had reached or exceeded the buoy she had left the day before. She'd then collect her previous buoy and swim or walk (depending on the distance she had made) back to the cave.

Oki Tachibana approached each of these practices with unerring seriousness. She had a strong inclination towards competition and she wholeheartedly_believed_ in becoming the best. She enjoyed learning, but she enjoyed breaking previous records and expectations _more_. Each time that buoy inched closer to the mouth of the cave, each time she moved onto the theory behind another chakra style and each time she advanced onto the next position for a set of defensive poses, Oki could _feel _herself becoming better. It was no surprise, considering that the vast majority of Oki's _daily_ waking hours were completely occupied with just such a pursuit. Her stamina increased, her natural observant tendencies sharpened, a swagger to her footsteps.

And she relished almost nothing as much as she relished advancing.

She just hadn't taken into account that anyone else might be noticing the change either.

"Oki."

She paused, hand still on the doorknob and hand still towelling at the wet hair at the nape of her neck. She'd almost made it out the cave mouth that day, and had paid for her efforts with a dunk in the icy seawater. He hadn't spoken in such a long time that she barely registered it as his voice. Kenki did though, stiffening form where he was hunched in front of her.

"Yeah, Dad?" Oki replied trying for blasé and unconsciously shielding Kenki's profile further with her own. She knew her father would never hurt either of them intentionally (he wasn't a cruel man), but it didn't stop the little knot of prickliness with the situation.

She didn't know how to deal with her father because he was perpetually a man half-absent. When someone didn't register the world about them with an emotional response, how were you meant to treat them? She didn't like her father's grieving silence, didn't like how uncomfortable and undervalued it made her feel. So Oki had perfected the art of _looking_ at her father without really _seeing_ him. In their home he was a familiar stranger, and time had worn away any other identity he had possessed in the eyes of his children.

"You've been gone almost every day," his eyes were sunken above the thick, bristle of his beard, "where've you been?"

"Just out," Oki replied, shuffling Kenki further behind her, "Me and Kenki are gonna eat grilled fish on the beach today, wanna come?"

Her little brother's expression was at once tragically hopeful and apprehensive. Oki felt herself close further away from the man who'd sired her.

"No," a tired smile, "no, that's fine…you two should enjoy yourselves."

Oki had even less idea of what to do with that, so she relied instead on whatever came out her mouth, "Alright. We will. See ya."

"Oki," he called again just before they were free and she had to swallow a ragged sigh of aggravation.

"Yeah, what is it Dad?" she snuck her head round the door.

"Can you…" he paused, "can you come in here for a moment?"

"Alright."

She stepped inside, although she'd much rather be leading her little brother off down the beach and away. In fact she'd rather be _anywhere_ else.

"Did you know that your nets been emptier than usual for a while now?" Kenji began.

She did, Hiroya Kobiyashi had been holding the title of best younger fisher in Nishihama for a while now. Oki Tachibana hardly noticed, never mind cared. The daily ins and outs of the village weren't something that vaguely interested her anymore.

Instead, she said "Nah, I didn't."

He sighed, "I think I've put too much pressure on you."

Oki silently thought that her father hadn't really acknowledged them never mind spoken to them enough to put pressure on them. She kept the thought to herself however, frowning pensively at her father with a solid stance that hid Kenki gripping to the backs of her legs.

"I…" he took a moment to collect.

_"__Please don't cry,"_ Oki internally begged, "_Crap, don't start crying Dad. I ain't gonna know what to do if you start blubbering."_

"I don't think," each word out of Kenji Tachibana's mouth was slow and even and delivered with heartrending regret, "I've been a very good father for…some time now."

"_No, not really but you ain't been a bad one either,"_ she wanted to say but contributing would only encourage him and Oki had no such intention.

Her father coughed and pulled himself straight; Oki released an almost invisible sigh of relief.

"Anyway I think it's better if Kenki and Kenzo take the morning routine, you can haul the nets in with me at night," Kenji finished gruffly, "that should take the pressure off."

Kenki's grip on her leg tightened to almost painful degrees. Oki snapped her mouth open to argue but her father was already nodding her towards the door with a gentle smile.

"Enjoy your dinner…both of you," he said softly, even the door sounded muffled as he shut it behind them.

"He's such an ass," Oki muttered when she and Kenki finally seated themselves on the ridge of grey pebbles. The sea lay open and turbulent before them, stretching on for miles until it finally breached the far off silhouette of the island dominated by Kirigakure. If she squinted in the waning light Oki could almost imagine the tiny flickers of light from houses across the expanse of sea, hung up like lanterns and carrying all the same enigmatic promise.

Kenki shuffled closer to her, almost burrowing into her side. The wind was sharp and cold, and the oily smell of their cooked fish wafted up from where they lay on their laps.

"Ya shouldn't talk about dad that way, big sister," Kenki murmured softly, "it ain't nice."

"Well _he_ ain't nice," Oki huffed, "How am I gonna see you now if I'm stuck fishing with his grumpy butt?"

Kenki didn't reply. It was the question and answer both had been unsatisfied with. Her little brother knew that now would be an opportune time to ask, ask what she was doing all the time, ask if she could spend that time with him instead, ask if….she didn't _want _to spend time with him anymore. But he just couldn't work his tongue from the roof of his mouth. Fear kept him quiet, fear of what that Oki wouldn't give any answers and an even greater fear of what those answers may be. If there was anything Kenki Tachibana feared above all else, it was rejection.

Oki kicked at a pebble, then watched with a frown as it sailed over onto the sand below, "why don't he mind his own business? Not bothered checking on us before so whys he gotta start now, huh?"

"I dunno, Oki," Kenki replied.

She sulked a little while longer, an action that made her look remarkably like Kenzo (a comparison she'd likely deny with every breath in her body). Eventually she sighed, Kenki could feel the great draw and expulsion of breath fill and empty out her chest. It misted before their faces, a brief plume carried off by the coastal winds.

"Come on, little brother. Eat your dinner," Oki muttered while grabbing at her own.

Gulls were still crying at one another overhead, and the dim sounds of life from Nishihama behind them floated down (children being tucked into bed, husbands and wives recounting their day, thanks being given for their meal). Her fingers picked at the fish, oil running between them and the tips pleasantly warm in the cold, evening air. She was half way through and still searching for a noticeable flicker of light across the dark water when Kenki began fidgeting.

"What's up?" Oki asked through a mouthful of food.

Kenki glanced at her, glanced out at the shore then at her again before neatly placing his meal in his lap.

"….Oki?"

"Yeah?"

"Well…erm," Kenki fidgeted, "you'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

It wasn't exactly the question but it was close enough for Kenki to turn his head away in embarrassment. Oki eyed him, chewing at the white flesh and breathing in the smell of salt air and cooked fish. She'd finished her meal in seconds, the fish scorching her throat as she bolted it down.

Now idle her hands were unconsciously moving through the seals Teacher had demonstrated over and over again. It had become a habit where others may bite at nails or puff their cheeks. Monkey, Dragon, Rat, Bird, Snake, ox, Dog, Horse, Tiger, Boar, Ram, Hare. Monkey, Dragon, Rat, Bird, Snake, ox, Dog, Horse, Tiger, Boar, Ram, Hare. It was something practiced and repeatable, and sometimes (after making herself hone each one for hours on end) she barely even realised she was doing it. They weren't as neat as she would have liked, and she couldn't get her chakra to respond correctly or quickly to them most of the time but she was working on it.

"I dunno," Oki replied bluntly, "Probably not. Ya worry too much bout stuff."

"Oh," Kenki whispered.

Oki sighed. She stopped the Tiger Seal she'd been moving into (sloppily, much to her chagrin) and wiped the grease from her fingers onto the course material of her shirt. Then she waited.

Kenki sensing the sudden stillness and silence behind him dared to peek back. Oki was smiling at him, fond and rueful and more than a little exasperated. Her light blue hair looked vibrant against the greys and indigos of the oncoming storm clouds, her olive complexion the warmest colour in the scene, and once again his big sister was restored to her Hero status with that one affectionate look.

"You're an idiot, ya know that?" Oki smiled, "I told ya before-" she reached out a hand, it was warm and alive where it ruffled through his hair, "-I always got your back right."

Kenki sniffled, playing the prick of tears off on the cold, and reached up to grasp Oki's hand to his head. He didn't know why he felt like crying but he was so_relieved_.

"You're such a sap," Oki chuckled. Kenki wiped his running nose across his sleeve as laughed in reply.

And for a moment, everything was right in Kenki Tachibana's world again.

…..

Three weeks after Oki's ninth birthday, she found that the energy in the cave had altered with her Teacher's sudden (relatively) animated attention. He was waiting for her, which was a change since Teacher usually regarded her entrance with the same bland expression that he regarded the rocks about him.

The mood was infectious, and Oki was at once both excited by it and dubious of it. She eyed her Teacher with a half-grin and a raised brow.

"What's goin' on?" she questioned, glancing about her for any traps (which had happened before, to teach her awareness apparently although Oki had worn her resulting bruises as a badge of honour).

"What suggests that there_is_ 'anything going on'?" her Teacher replied, something bordering on teasing lifting at the burned skin of one cheek.

"Well," Oki drawled, eyeing the ceiling warily then popping up on her toes to check the space behind him, "you don't look like your growing mushrooms out ya head for one and the rest is just pickin' up on the _mood_, y'know? What're you hiding?"

"I don't intend to_hide_ anything," he replied, "And the 'mood' you described is intuition. You should pay heed to it; good instincts have saved someone's life countless times."

"Gotcha," Oki nodded, making a mental note to hone her 'instincts' later, "so what we up to today then? You still haven't answered."

"Quite," he sighed, "I'm beginning to understand that it'll take more energy than I'm willing to invest to throw you off a question…to my _eternal_ joy."

"Damn right, it will," Oki grinned, teeth flashing white in the gloom of the cave, "so what is it?"

Teacher looked at her and gave her an indulgent smile, the effect utterly ruined by the grotesque patchwork of burnt and unburnt skin, and the uneven lines of his teeth, "guess. Use the skills I've taught you."

Oki grinned, ready to uptake any challenge he threw at her. She checked him over, but her Teacher was a master at blandness and she could discern no clues from his face. Her eyes however lingered on the fingertips of his whole hand; two of the fingers were stained slightly with ghosts of a blackish liquid. His posture wasn't as easy as usual, instead of flopped back flat on the tarp, today it looked as though he had given some thought to his posture.

'_Lying on something then_,' Oki frowned, '_and trying to hide it'._

She scanned the neat piles of his castaways but everything there was in order. She wouldn't expect him to be capable of movement enough to affect his surroundings but she checked anyway. Predictably there was nothing. So all Oki knew were that one, he was hiding something behind his back, and two it involved some black liquid. Oki couldn't see anyway that these two things correlated into an answer, so she moved onto the prominent skill he had been teaching her.

Oki darted forward, pressed one foot on the cave floor by his hip while her knee hovered threateningly over his groin. Her hands shot out, one hand at the jagged skin of his jaw while the finger of her other hand also hovered, this time extended over his left eye. Oki knew that even crippled he could have stopped her had he wished to (the water clones had taken full advantage of her mistake whenever she blundered a Taijutsu stance) but this, like most interactions with her Teacher, was a test. So he merely watched her, placidly flicking his eyes from the direction of his groin to her finger then to her eyes.

"Tell me what it is," Oki grinned and sucked in a quick pull of breath, slightly winded by the rush of movement.

"Nicely done," he rasped, "if you apply pressure to my groin, my head instinctively comes up and I blind myself…or vice versa. Though you haven't taken into account whether or not I would react to the pain, and whether or not the information I _do_ give you would be true."

She frowned at that, "I know you're hiding somethin' behind your back. I reckon if I knee you in the bits you'll move and I getta see whatever it is anyway."

He smiled, "better, although next time work on masking your movements. Your intentions were clear before you'd even made a move."

"Alright," Oki nodded, "you gonna show me then?"

"That was our agreement," he nodded.

The pain it took him to move was milder than that first time Oki had helped cut him free of his web of nets and dragged him onto the tarp; but it was still considerable. Teacher grit his teeth and shifted his weight onto his elbows, sweat springing up onto his forehead as he lifted his body high enough for Oki to shove a hand in the space underneath and grasp at whatever lay there. Her fingers skittered against the fabric for a while, slick and iron grey like the skin of a seal, until they came into contact with a rumpled wad of paper.

"The hell?" Oki turned it over in her hands, peering at the sheet from different angles while her Teacher lowered himself down with a noise of strain.

Oki could read very little. She knew how to write her name, recognise numbers and a few other key sentences but that was the full extent of her literacy skills. And those she only knew because she was allowed to assist when the boat from Kirigakure came to collect Nishihama's weekly catch. She'd definitely never seen markings like these before.

In all honesty, they looked like the squiggles the village children would draw with fingers or sticks in the sand. No immediate definitive order or pattern to them which struck Oki as odd since the majority of what she had been learning could be boiled down to rules or procedures that complimented her controlling tendencies. Large, lazy sweeps of ink all orbited around the single character (though Oki did not recognise it from her meagre mental dictionary, it was the only defining evidence of there being organisation) at the centre of the paper. The ink looked unusual too, defiantly raised from the paper rather than sheepishly sweeping into it. Oki cast a glance at her Teacher before raising the paper and sniffing deeply. It smelt strange too, sharp and spicy at first before fading low, like a burn at the tip of her tongue.

"Any ideas?" he asked.

Oki only continued to inspect and mull it over. Finally accepting defeat, she sighed.

"No idea, what is it?"

"That is an exploding tag," he rasped, not a single note of pride evident in either voice or expression, "and one of my own creation. They've become something of a signature of mine. Your chakra control is, taking into consideration your age and situation, rather impressive. However your chakra stores are lamentably small. You'll need something that has large potential for damage without the draining every ounce of your chakra," he nodded once at the paper still clutched in her hand, "those are it."

"This is it?" Oki raised a brow and lifted the paper for further emphasis.

Teacher merely nodded.

"Hrmm," Oki weighed it in her hand, "Exploding Tags, right?"

"Yes," he replied drily, "Exploding Tags."

"I dunno," Oki frowned, "They don't_look_ like much."

"Appearance can be deceiving," he replied in tired tones, "those little slips of paper are what stripped away anything outwardly human about me."

She couldn't argue with him on _that_ point. In the gloom and echoing of the cave particularly, her Teacher looked like a corpse waiting for the reaper to collect. She had only seen whispers of the things he had once been capable of and yet these strips of paper and his own defeated attitude had brought him so low. He was watching her carefully, trying (and likely succeeding) to read her interest. Oki caught his eyes, and the suddenly vulnerable twitch of his fingers.

"Whys it so important I learn this?"

He visibly stopped himself from blinking, "and it isn't important that you learn _everything _I have to teach you?"

"It is, yeah," Oki eyed him, "but to _me_. You've never got so twitchy over me bein' taught anything before."

"As I explained earlier, small chakra stores mean you won't be capable of preforming other offensive techniques besides Taijutsu," he knew he was being cornered now and yet not a strip of panic was visible.

"You _expecting_ to be attacked?"

It was silent. Silent for too long. And Oki learned that most truths do not come in the blaze of speech but the quiet that came creeping after. It didn't change anything, knowing and not knowing that Teacher was using her for some other unseen purpose had no effect whatsoever on their positions. He still relied on her to keep him alive and Oki still relied on him as her link to a world outside Nishihama.

She didn't even have the capacity to be surprised. It was simply understood. Maybe part of her had known from the very offset that what he was willing to give would come at a high price. And yet she'd still wanted, no _begged_ to learn. Oki was far _too in love _with this new world, even the seedier parts he had described. Learning these skills it was the first time in Oki's life that she felt fulfilled; felt that she _fit_ something like a part deep inside her gut had clicked into place. She didn't want to think too hard on what that said about her, so she simply didn't. She didn't want to think too hard on what exactly she would have to pay for _all this_ when the time came, so she didn't.

She wanted to see tomorrow more than her Teacher did, and it was this that she _knew_ and this that she relied on.

_'__You want, you work, you take.'_

She worked hard enough and took as much as she could, and everything else would fall into place. These were dangerous waters she had dived herself into and there was no coming back. She could not return to her life from before. It simply was not an option and the mere contemplation of that quiet, banal life without this opportunity set Oki's nerves aflame. It did not mean she was stupid enough not to recognise the danger or the anxious knot in her stomach that whispered '_you can go back, turn back now before it's too late'_.

"Alright," Oki huffed, "how does this Exploding Tag work then?"

It just meant that she knew but was too naïve or sure of herself to continue regardless.

…..

The Exploding Tags began as a love/hate relationship with Oki Tachibana.

She was so very accustomed to excelling in everything she did (everyday tasks and her training included) that her inability to immediately grasp the concept frustrated the hell out of her. She wanted to rip the templates to shreds, she wanted to forget she'd even heard of them but she had been issued a challenge and she **could not back down**! Oki boasted often because she felt she had a right to, she put in the work and she garnered the results. She was absolutely unwilling to allow that streak to go broken now and hollow out all her other accomplishments.

What simultaneously attracted and aggravated Oki was the order to the chaos of the Exploding Tags. Although every line _appeared_ messy, there was a strict process. Every curve and stroke meant a different result, and all these results needed to balance and slot into one another or the end result would be rendered completely useless. Each line was linked to a movement or amount of chakra, and once again these had to correlate for there to be any success. To create an exploding tag; Oki would have to think about every move she made in multiple tiers at once.

This, she enjoyed. Reining this superficial chaos tightly into order appealed to her greatly. That's why she was so keen to conquer this aspect of training above all others. But that didn't mean she found it easy. Despite, or maybe because of this; Oki had never felt more accomplished in her life thus far than when she created her first functioning copy of the tag Teacher had given her.

She could remember racing off up the beach, further still from Nishihama. She could remember practically skidding to her knees in the sand, burying the tag and then racing back off towards a cluster of rocks for cover. A grin and a Snake seal and….

_'__Foom'_

The explosion was minimal but Oki gaped and laughed in euphoria as if she'd never before seen _anything_ so spectacular. That such a burst, such a wild explosion of noise and light and furious energy, could be born from the complex and regimented guidelines of an Exploding Tag was…beautiful to her, in the purest sense of the word. Everything she embodied clashing with everything she didn't, and what human being wasn't drawn to those things similar to them with the same fervour as those things that were their opposites.

Oki laughed, eyes alive and the ecstasy of accomplishment thrilling, buzzing,_rising _in every ounce and every inch of her little body. She watched the tiny flames die down as twin reflections of their pale plume danced in her dark eyes.

Oki and Exploding Tags, despite the shaky start, were love at first sight.

….

Hands in pockets against the cold, Oki marched along the length of the beach. Her days were now bookended by those few awkward hours spent with her father and Oki watched each second bleed into each minute bleed into each hour with resentful eyes until she was free.

The cave had had even more of a lure of late. Her new obsession with Exploding Tags aside, Oki had found her lessons becoming not only an escape from the banality of life in Nishihama but from her family too. Her father hadn't spoken (besides brief instructions) since he'd saddled her with his company. His quiet heart-break ate up the atmosphere in the boat, and Oki forever felt trapped in it whenever they were out at sea together. But that she could live with.

What_had_ been tugging at her nerves lately was how well Kenki and Kenzo seemed to be getting along. She wanted her brother to have people he could depend on outside her, but at the same time she was viciously possessive of that attention. Her little brother had been the only one in the village that she felt halfway understood her; and now he was laughing and shyly smiling along with a great, fat idiot like Kenzo.

She couldn't be entirely pleased for him. For all Oki's adaptability and drive, it took certain levels of a selfishness to achieve the results she did. And now something she had felt safe in owning (in these circumstances, Kenki's undivided attention and affection) was being taken away from her….well, suffice to say some mornings she would watch her brothers from the top of the beach with jealous eyes and a sulky frown.

It was then predictable that Oki would respond to Kenki's plea for help with more eagerness than usual.

"Don't you wanna ask big brother?" Oki muttered, hiding her grin behind her shoulder.

Kenki blinked, "Huh? Why?"

"Ah, nothing," Oki backtracked, "Forget I said anything. So what ya want help with?"

"Well…um," Kenki fidgeted.

There were sat in the centre of the ratty rug in their front room. This was one of the rare times when Oki had managed to return before everyone else had already retired to their beds. Kenki was out with his friends, their father checking over the area of the boat that had leaked last month, and only Oki and Kenki occupied the cramped space. She waited.

"It's kinda…hard to talk about," Kenki finally mumbled, "it probably sounds silly."

"Don't talk about it then," Oki shrugged, "just tell me what I gotta do."

"But!" Kenki blushed sheepishly at his outburst before continuing in a softer tone, "…but you gotta understand why first."

Oki frowned, "what's to understand, my little brother needs something and has asked me to get it," she paused, "…you have only asked me, right?"

"Course!" Kenki frowned, insulted that she'd think so little of him, "I know you're the only one who can do stuff properly, Oki!"

Oki grinned, immensely satisfied that her talents were being appreciated.

"Anyway…I guess you don't have to know but…I…erm, want ya to understand, Oki," Kenki hung his head and rubbed self-consciously at his arm.

Oki eyed him for a moment before sighing, "Alright, lay it on me."

Kenki took a deep breath, visibly preparing himself. His slim fingers toyed with the chipped edges of his now-empty bowl and his eyes still hadn't lifted from the muddy patterns of the rug.

"Well…Kenzo's been talking to me-"

Oki snorted.

"-about….about Mom."

Oki's grin, prepared for some comment about never listening to anything Kenzo had to say, slipped and died all together like a bug turned on its side. She stilled internally. Her eyes latched onto the hunched back and shadowed contours of her little brother's face as if they'd been replaced by laser beams. The sound of Kenki rolling his bowl between his fingers was spiteful in the silence.

"Why…" Oki coughed, trying to reign in her rising anger, "why would you ask him about her?"

"Because…." Kenki faltered then his head snapped up to meet hers with wide, watery eyes and garbled speech, "Because she was my mom too, and I-I wanted to know. I killed her right? I didn't want-"

"Ya didn't kill her!" Oki's voice was iron, "and if Kenzo _ever _tells you that, even so much as implies it, I **swear** I'll rip his head off!"

Kenki blinked at her. Then he burst into tears.

"This is why I never tell you this stuff Oki!" he managed through sniffling, "You don't get it! Not everyone's like you, alright?"

"Yeah, I don't get it!" Oki thundered back, "'cause you gotta be pretty damn stupid to think you killed ya mom when you're only a baby!"

Kenki's receding sobs were unbearably loud against her ears. All the rage, all the pent-up frustration with her circumstances and Kenki's slight betrayal had come erupting out, but then when it was gone she felt spent, empty. It had felt good for a moment to let Kenki know that he still needed her, but it wasn't worth his tears. Nothing was worth that. Oki had failed her little brother again, and suddenly she felt too sick of herself to manage being in the same room as him.

But Kenki saved her the effort.

"I-I only was gonna ask if ya could find her wedding that father keeps," Kenki struggled to his feet, wiping furiously at his eyes as he scrambled over himself to reach the door, "but-but now **forget it**!"

The door rocked on its hinges as Kenki slammed it behind him. The entire house seemed prickly to the nine year old left behind, as if every wall, every piece of furniture were disgruntled bystanders she had disturbed with her callous actions.

Oki pressed her fists into her eyes until she could see pricks of white light in the darkness. She bit down on a scream. She could do all this, could with time and effort accomplish anything Teacher set her with a damn smile on her face. So why could never seem to see the world from Kenki's point of view? Why couldn't she just be happy for him instead of wanting to be an integral part of it?

Why couldn't she just try to understand?

"Doesn't he get how important he is to me," she muttered into the stillness of the house.

No one replied of course. After beating her feet against the floor in frustration for a moment more, she sat up. Her eyes locked on the door to her father's bedroom that had seemed so ominous all that time ago.

She'd make it up to Kenki, she swore she would.

….

She waited until he was asleep before slipping the ring on a chain about his neck. When her father woke the next morning she took the blame and subsequent beating.

She didn't regret that. She'd been angry enough to carve an Exploding Tag seal onto the bottom of her father's chair in all her childish fury at being humiliated, but she hadn't regretted it.

Kenki sat beside her as she winced and pressed a moth-eaten cloth full of ice against her lip. The cooler outside air stung and numbed at once. Her little brother had slipped the ring and the chain it was attached to underneath his shirt. Oki, even with her perceptive skills, could barely made out the circle of plain, time-worn iron bumping against her brother's heart.

She didn't understand his desire but...she hoped he felt better now. She hadn't even known or anticipated that Kenki would have such insecurities about their mother's death, but she hoped he was more at ease regardless.

She didn't have to understand Kenki, to want the best for him.

"I'm…." Kenki whispered, "I'm sorry, I never thought…he's _never, ever_ hit us before."

"I'm alright," replied sternly, "take more than that to hurt me."

Kenki removed the cloth and reapplied the pressure with a far gentler touch than Oki's. She met his eyes. And he smiled shyly.

It felt that it should be right; they were doing the same dance and saying the same words. But Oki felt every inch of the growing distance between them in that smile. There was no way to stop this progress. She could only smile back, and ignore the sudden pang of mourning a time when Oki and Kenki would be only that.

**A/N:**

**Thank you to Sadistic Avocado for being my first (and hopefully not last) reviewer :D Reading that really made my day, and I was seriously, SERIOUSLY thrilled that you found Oki a believable character. As for whether or not this will continue into cannon, I have no intentions at the moment for that and that's all I'm going to say ;) Age wise in comparison to other characters, Oki is a year older than Zabuza (who I'm using as my age-marker-thingy for Kirigakure) who's 26 when we first see him in cannon. If it's any more help I put Kakashi at an early 27 near the start of cannon. **

**In this chapter, I've kinda ghosted over Oki's training because honestly I don't enjoy reading never mind writing training montages. But to make it easier I'll say that Oki has been training with Teacher for roughly a year (met him at eight and she's now nine) and been working with him for near enough every hour of the day she isn't sleeping or doing her duties. In my mind that puts her about at the level of a low-scoring Konoha academy graduate, with Exploding Tags being her speciality.****I'm trying very hard not to make her OP but on the other hand I've noticed my tendency to make characters far too underpowered in an effort to avoid that; so really I'm trying to make Oki about level at the moment (taking into consideration the harsher demands before Naruto's time). Hopefully it's working so far.**

**Updating today but I intend to start updating every Friday, so this should tie anyone over till then. I also want to thank everyone who's favourited and followed so far, it seriously means a lot because I'm feeling really good about writing this so far and any interest is a massive plus in my book :]**

**Thanks for reading.**


	4. 4: Breaking the ice

Breaking the ice.

The winter of Oki Tachibana's ninth year on this earth was bitter.

Great, grasping hands of gale-force winds tore tin roofs from some of the houses of Nishihama and tossed them listlessly aside. The cold was inescapable, water freezing in the pipes and the children of Kenji Tachibana huddled up at night under mounds of their own clothing on top of blankets. Each breath materialised, any sweat produced by work curled cold against their skin but worst of all the sea at their coast froze in for two miles. There was no snow. Only iron grey skies and winds that cut like blades.

Nishihama relied on their trade. Their trade relied on the sea. Therefore there was no trade. There was no money.

No food.

Oki had become accustomed to being hungry, but never before had she been forced to grow accustomed to starving. It was difficult to concentrate on anything, the emptiness in her stomach seeming to sap at every other parcel of energy in her body. Teacher's rations had nearly stopped altogether, and that combined with the unshielded barrage of elements in the cave made Oki wonder if her lifeline would even survive the winter.

She woke each morning to anxious dreams of finding Teacher frozen over; a ruddy mess of red, burned skin and the black of his uniform under a lens of thick ice, the winter winds shrieking and careening through the holes in the rock.

A child died from starvation when they passed into the third week point, family pets were being eyed with unnerving looks and generation-old heirlooms had been snapped across knees to build fires. Two of the village men had died trying to break the ice enough for their boats to venture out, but it was thick at the shoreline and too thin to stand on further out. Still the sharp winds blew and still the ice would not melt.

There was no particular breaking point. No snap or final _'__enough'_ in Oki's psyche. It was purely a dim realisation eking and ambling into existence in her hunger-dulled mind. That afternoon when she helped her father break the ice away from their little boat, she looked up and finally squeezed into a solution.

This was another point in Oki Tachibana's life where she would look back, and wonder if she had bypassed that thought process altogether how different would her life be? Maybe she would be the next person to starve? Maybe she would have survived that winter? Maybe_they_ would have found Nishihama regardless, and Oki's future was set that morning Kenki Tachibana forgot to tie weights to the end of his net?

In the end (and even that statement was a finality that people have forever been discomfited by) it did not matter.

Oki Tachibana _had_ looked up and Oki Tachibana had understood that she _had_ the power to break the ice. Her breath plumed-there and gone-while Oki's drained mind tried to connect thought to action. One leg stepped forward with wooden movements, feet disturbing the pebbles and sending them scattering onto the cold sand below. Then another. The wind snatched her back, her bones so cold it felt as if the air were blowing through holes in lead. But heedlessly, another step came.

She licked her lips; her spit only making the chapped and blistered skin sorer. Then she was running. The sand was hard-packed and unsympathetic, and Oki felt as if each footfall was peeling at her body like a strip of wax being lifted. But the buzz of panting breath and purpose kept her moving.

"Oki!" It was her father, still up on the beach, "Oki! What are ya doing?"

Oki hit the ice and skidded. There was a moment of bright, white panic before she carefully flooded chakra into her feet. Where it touched so did warmth but it was almost painful in the numb extremities of her toes. She slid again; the burst of chakra throwing her off balance as the supply to one foot greatly outweighed the other.

"Breathe," Oki whispered to herself, teeth chattering in her skull, "Focus."

She glared out at her surroundings at that last word. The world about her was a collage of whites and indigos, ice beneath her feet and storm clouds rolling in over it like swathes of tumbling silk. The wind was howling about her, cutting across the ice to blast at her face and the wintery beach behind. The uneven flow of chakra settled. It was dangerous out there but Oki didn't think of the danger, only what needed to be done.

She started running.

"Wait! Come back, it's too thin!" Her father was screaming under the layers of wind, sounding far more panicked than she had ever heard.

Other villagers at begun to congregate on the beach, drawn by the noise he was generating. They shuffled closer, eyes flashing from him to the blurry shape of his daughter out on the frozen sea. When Oki's eyes met her fathers from over her shoulder, she almost stumbled at the absolute amount of sheer terror flooding through them.

"Oki!" he lunged forward prepared to follow his child out onto the precarious footing.

"Stop!" two of the village men hauled him back, "Are you insane? You'll die out there!"

"She's my daughter!" he screamed back, "Oki! Oki, come back! It's dangerous! Oki!"

Murmurs were beginning to ripple through the spectators as the girl ghosted further into the harsh landscape of ice and storm clouds.

"Is that Oki Tachibana?"

"What is she doing? The ice out there is too thin to hold her!"

"Is she trying to kill herself?"

"Maybe she's finally lost it?"

These voices melded with the shrieking of cold air shooting through Oki's ears. Her blood was pumping and her chakra flowing. It was the warmest she'd been in weeks.

She hit the halfway point and skidded, storm clouds rearing up like smoking dragonheads over the expanse of white. Oki was nothing but a black mark, another passing shadow on the vastness of the landscape. It was bleak and powerful and wholly majestic with its unapologetic threat. On her knees she carefully layered the chakra along every area that kissed the ice, wary of the great, ominous grumbling of the freezing water rushing below the ice. If she went under, she was done for and Oki had no intention of dying just yet. Her fingers felt at her belt for her gutting knife but they were clumsy and brittle.

"Crap," Oki muttered, squishing her head further into the fur of her collar.

She lifted her hands to her face, pulling the gloves off with her teeth and immediately sticking her fingers in the heat of her mouth. She waited until she could feel them again, glaring down at the ice between her knees, planning out her approach. She'd have to be quick but precise, too slow and her spit would freeze her fingers but too rushed and the Exploding Seal would be too faulty to work. A large part of her relished this, the challenge, the worried faces of the crowd at the shoreline, the promise of her life dangling only by a thin thread of her own honed skills.

The cold was already seeping through the thin material of her trousers, fusing with her and Oki had the bizarre fear that she would crack and break apart should she move. She shifted, darting her fingers to her knife and immediately painting in the lines she had already drawn out in her mind.

Oki forgot. She forgot about the ice moody and bemoaning her presence. She forgot about the howl, and the drag, and the pull of the vicious winds. She forgot about the sub-zero temperatures of the sea, and the smell of fish guts fermented her knife. All Oki could remember was the frantic pump of her heart, the way her body lit up and flashed faster under the pressure and the need for perfection in each stroke she carved into her canvas. It had made Oki feel alive, made her feel as though she were being pushed and only her own talent and wits would see her through.

She lived for moments such as that.

"I did it," she grinned, leaning back and struggling to her feet with shaky movements.

Then louder, "I did it!"

There was no one out there to hear it but Oki didn't care. This triumph was her own; and whether the others witnessed it or not did not lessen its value. Flushed with victory Oki panted, her cheeks red with cold, and redirected her gaze back to the shoreline. The blobby little crowd had swelled, snatches of voices caught and carried back to her by the wind. They couldn't be too close. She wasn't exactly sure how big the explosion or the ice shrapnel would be. Oki started running, pins and needles erupting where there had only been the numbness of cold before.

"Get back!" Oki bellowed and waved her arms at them, "Get back!"

The crowd swayed and instinctively slipped back a step while murmurs of concern rippled through them like a breeze through a field of wheat.

"**Back!" **Oki screamed.

Slowly they started backwards, confused but jolted into action by the sheer amount of urgency in her voice. Oki had barely set a toe on the sand before her father had grabbed her, bundled her up in his coat and retreated behind the shape of their boat. He was soothing reassurances over and over again in a tear-stained voice, but she barely heard him. She wiggled her arms free, positioned her fingers into a Snake and flooded the moulded chakra into the seal out on the ice.

** '****Fwoom!'**

The boat rocked at her back, the air suddenly a chorus of startled shrieks and yells and there was a flash of light-there and gone-left only hazy blobs of black behind in their eyes. She peered around the boat, only to receive a vengeful spray of icy sea water for her effort. Oki coughed, feeling her body slipping into sleep as the voices grew dimmer and the firefly bobbing of the explosion's afterimages settled lower into her skull. Suddenly she was so very, very tired…

…

"A bloody miracle!" Genji Mizuyama patted at the back of Kenji Tachibana with a wide smile and cup of sake. Some of the alcohol had spilt; most was still nestled in the earth ware jug.

The little room was heavy with the smell of Tabaco smoke, man, and the low timbre of adult voices and raucous, gruff laughter. The men of Nishihama celebrated how they lived, sparsely with a focus on the smaller things and a grim maybe-promise of tomorrow.

"Aye," Hirota Kobiyashi chimed, "I thought we might all starve this winter."

"Er…how old she your daughter anyway, Kenji?" Mr Mizuyama inquired sheepishly.

"Old enough," Mr Kobiyahi interjected with a stern eye, "for my Hiroya."

"A girl like that's too good for yer scrawny lad!" Mr Mizuyama rebuffed, face red with anger as if it were his own daughter Mr Kobiyashi had edged for.

Kenji Tachibana watched the pair with dull eyes, sipping quietly from his cup and feeling himself sink deeper into the buzz of alcohol and noise and warm air. These were the men who had warned their children not to play with that 'Tachibana girl' because 'it would only end in tears'. And now…now they were arguing over whose son would marry the girl who'd broken the ice and therefore the harsh winter they had been enduring.

Kenji was suddenly unsure of what he should be doing with himself. He'd been disconnected from reality, cruising on auto-pilot, for so long that he wasn't sure whether or not he remembered how he used to act around the men of Nishihama. There was a time when he'd drank and laughed with the other villagers, a time when Nanako had been laughing between the lock of his arms while Hiroto Kobiyashi recounted another embarrassing tale from his youth. But Nanako was dead and the Kenji Tachibana that had laughed with her no longer resided in his body.

He should be home.

Oki had fallen asleep moments after her performance and he still had no idea what his daughter had done. He only had frantic memories of a noise like a thunderclap, of bright white flaring out from between the grey of storm clouds and of ice breaking and surging about the waves like broken pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

Kenji realised he had only as much right to discuss his daughter as these other men did. He _knew _her only as well as they did. All of his children, Kenzo, Kenki and Oki, carried the same sense of vague familiarity. There was a time he knew them and it had gone, and Kenji was at a loss as to how he could reclaim that time again.

He knew what Nishihama thought of them; Kenji was a hermit, Kenzo was alright but faulty by occasion with the Tachibana name, Oki had visions beyond herself and Kenki was that sickly child that was one dry season away from an early grave. Kenji wondered when exactly he'd lost touch and watched their family's reputation slip away from them. He'd never felt so much an outcast as he did that night in a room full of people with only congratulations.

"To Oki Tachibana!" Mr Mizuyama cheered, sake sloshing over the rim of his cup.

"Oki Tachibana!" the tiny room reverberated with the re-joining cry.

When Kenji Tachibana staggered home that night, the house was empty and still. His and Nanako's children were out and he hadn't the slightest notion as to where he would have had to search first. The silence felt stuck in time, bottled and forgotten, and Kenji could not help but feel some form of kinship to it.

He lit a cigarette and settled himself into his armchair, staring out as the storm clouds passed under the indigo shades of dusk. He faded out onto memories of when he and Nanako had first brought the house. A time when she had been pregnant with Kenzo and Kenji's father had died three months before, leaving the boat to his remaining son.

_"__What about the rug? What colour do you think we should go for? I mean we can't afford to paint the walls, but I would like _at least_a little bit of colour in the house," Nanako screwed her face up at the dingy surroundings, inspecting the black iron stove with a critical eye and nodding a pleasant salutation to the beach view from the front room window._

_She fixed him with an impatient frown and Kenji belatedly realised that she was waiting on an answer._

_"__Whatever ya want, dear. Choose whatever colour ya want," he replied, not really understanding why the decision was so important but deciding that arguing that point was useless._

_Nanako sighed and looked at him with fond exasperation, "you're bloody useless, you know that?"_

_"__I've been told," Kenji smiled quietly._

_"__That your final answer, Kenji Tachibana?" she lifted a brow, hands on her hips and a smile that was smug and beautiful through the rose-tinted glasses of memory._

"Yeah," present Kenji Tachibana whispered into the cold and the quiet of the main-room, "Whatever you want, Nanako, I'll get you anything you want."

…..

Oki Tachibana was on the hunt. Such a sentence would at any other time fill anyone within the vicinity with dread. A hunting Oki Tachibana was a focused Oki Tachibana, and a focused Oki Tachibana usually resulted in exasperation for the parents who'd have to listen to their child's wailing or whinging.

Except this time she was hunting her younger brother.

Oki was high on her earlier success, confident enough to make a game of tailing Kenki (almost) soundlessly over the rise of pebbles and out onto the cold sand of the beach. Great slabs of ice were still rocked up against the shoreline, and the lapping of the waves now only added to her achievement after a time of the coast being devoid of them. Oki paused, as her brother did, to survey the damage. Pride filled her at the scene, at the great jagged break between the two floors of ice still out at sea. _I_ did that, Oki reflected with a grin, that was all me. Even if she had been exhausted enough to sleep until evening afterwards, that had to have been her most impressive Exploding Seal so far.

Another wave of drunken laughter swelled in the late evening, and Oki lingered for a moment, toying with the idea of returning home and basking in their acknowledgement. But no. What they had thought had never mattered to her before, so why should it matter now? She had little to no interest in impressing Nishihama, these accomplishments were hers to possess. Besides, the little silhouette of Kenki was slipping further into the burgeoning dark and losing to her younger brother was enough to dampen her present high.

She smiled to herself as she crept between the sand dunes and the sad shapes of their grounded boats. Already she was debating whether to grab Kenki to scare him or go for a more blasé 'and where are you off to, little brother?' Either was fine, but Oki wanted the reveal to be perfect.

The smile slipped and died when Oki began to recognise the route Kenki was taking. It was the same route she at least travelled twice a day. The yawning mouth of the cave sucked Kenki inside and blanketed him in the waiting darkness as if were a living thing, all kind smiles and suspicious eyes and lazy flickers of its tail. Oki swore and darted after her brother.

She followed. And it was this that perplexed Oki as she tracked the shape of her brother's shadow in the half-light of the cave. Surely she should have stopped him. She could have leapt out and asked, no _demanded_, what exactly he was doing and why?

But instead she followed. She had been struggling with her guilt over hiding this from Kenki, and here it seemed time had taken the situation out of her hands and righted it back on course. Kenki would discover the truth on his own, and Oki would have platitudes of 'it was bound to happen' and 'there was nothing I could do' to comfort her possessive tendencies. This way no one was at fault, and Oki found herself more and more invested in the notion the further Kenki struggled forward.

Five times, Kenki Tachibana turned around and almost headed back. And five times, Oki watched with a warring combination of relief and disappointment. There was no heedless courage present in the youngest Tachibana as there had been in his older siblings. He was scared of the dark pressing around him and the whistling of the wind through the holes in the rock.

Once again, Oki debated stopping except this time it was motivated strongly by her concern. Kenki was sickly, he scared easily and those two characteristics couldn't aid him much in the cave. If he fell or hurt himself, he'd likely panic and make the situation far worse. Oki had only just stepped forward, when Kenki's foot slipped into a rock pool and he squealed at the sensation of the bulbous-eyed creatures within rubbing against his shoes.

"Is someone there?"

Kenki and Oki froze.

_He_ knew. She knew he must know that there was someone there. And he must know that they posed no threat, or he wouldn't have indicated his presence or position. With no one else in Nishihama having even the slightest inkling of the Shinobi Arts, Teacher could sense Oki's small chakra reserve with ease. Most likely he was luring in whatever she was tailing, curious as to why she hadn't scared them off yet. The asshole must have known she didn't want Kenki knowing about her following him or she would have already exposed herself by now. He must have known that she wanted, or was at least willing, to allow Kenki to discover Teacher's existence.

Teacher was only giving her what she wanted.

But Oki-unlike him- had none of the same penchant for bitter irony, and she was not amused by Teacher's games. Not when it came to Kenki.

"….H-hello?" Kenki's voice shook as he peered into the darkness.

"Who is it? Who's there?"

"Erm…this is Kenki Tachibana, sir," Kenki replied, that polite, apologetic tone overriding his fear when he asked simple everyday questions.

"I'm afraid I've never heard of you Kenki Tachibana, but it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance nonetheless," Oki could practically hear the dry smile from where she had ducked behind a cluster of rocks, imagining it uncurling like a plume of smoke in the darkness of the cave, "how may I be of assistance?"

"I…erm," Kenki seemed to grow even smaller under the heavy mantle of gloom, small and pale and frightened, "I…my big s-sister she, er, no…it looks like my sister comes here a lot. And I-I was startin' to wonder if something was wrong an' she needed help…so….I, er-"

"Decided to investigate?" Teacher mercifully supplied.

It had grown darker in the cave by then, and colder still as night drew in. Oki ducked further behind her post, aware that any fogged breath could give her away. Only one eye peeked out at the world from where she had hidden. She was closer to Kenki and yet even at that sparse distance, it took concentration to detect his replying sheepish nod. Nonetheless, Teacher managed without much effort.

"That's brave and very sweet of you. You must care for her to venture here," there was something softer in Teacher's tone that Oki did not recognise.

"O-of course I do! Oki's…Oki's the best! She's a hero!" Kenki defended.

"Heh. Of course, I had no intention of doubting you. Oki did you say her name was? Hrmm, Oki Tachibana…I'm afraid I don't know anyone by that name here. Can you describe your sister to me?"

Oki mentally swore. Kenki was about to lay every piece of information she'd hoarded away from her Teacher right into his lap.

"Erm…well, she's really tall for her age but kinda skinny. She's got light blue hair like me and a little black spot by her eye like me, 'cept Oki's eyes are really, really dark and sorta thin. Oh! And she's got sharp teeth like me too," Kenki obediently began rattling off, "She's kinda…scary at first, and looks a little strict. But she's real smart and real strong and real tough, and she always wins so you gotta spot her easy."

"Oh, yes I'm quite aware of the girl you're describing," Teacher replied in his rasping tones.

"….Y-you…ya are?" Kenki murmured.

"Quite. She's a student of mine."

"….A student?" Kenki whispered, "I don't get it, a student of what?"

"You're her younger brother, yes?" Teacher asked but Oki knew that he was already aware of the answer, she tensed but didn't move.

"I am," Kenki replied, "And Kenzo's younger brother too."

"So there are three of you," Teacher sighed, "And no parents?"

"Ah! No, we've got Dad but…erm…." Kenki trailed off for long moments.

"You're mother died?" Teacher supplied in an even tone.

Kenki winced and nodded once.

Oki wanted to scream at Kenki to stop talking but she was rooted to the spot, watching it all unfold with morbid curiosity. Teacher had revealed nothing but Kenki was spilling everything out to him, and still Oki could not interpret them. Because no matter how far this went, she would not know the full potential of conversation if it was cut dead now. The concept of revealing herself had long ago fled into impossibility, she wasn't sure if it was curiosity or some unnamed fear that kept her still, but the _need_ to watch this all unfold was overpoweringly potent.

"I see," Teacher replied blandly, "And yet you, your brother and your father haven't noticed any changes in her?"

"….N-no," Kenki whispered, "Not really. She's out all the time and kinda distracted when she's back. Oh, and she always seemed excited about doing something before but now…now she just don't look as interested, but that's it. Why?"

"It just reinforces a theory I have about your sister."

"….what theory?" Kenki asked as though he could not stand to hear the answer but found himself doing so nonetheless.

"That she's a natural born killer."

The air was heavy in the silence that followed, weighed and dragged down by the seriousness of Teacher's comment. Even the wind had seemed to cease shrieking in the quiet of the cave. Oki's heart came thumping up in her ears, every nerve wired on edge and her teeth clenched on the tremulous tension.

"What?" Kenki voiced with shock, "A killer? What? No! No, you're wrong!"

"Am I?" Teacher replied in dry tones, "Every skill she has learned under me was designed to outsmart and murder others, and yet there hasn't been a change to her demeanour noticeable enough that even her family have picked up on it. To me, that suggests a certain…natural talent for the craft."

"My sister might not always show it but she's a good person with a good heart!" Kenki demanded, "She's always protected me and looked out for me, if she were a killer why would she do that, huh! I know she don't always get on with people but she'd never just hurt 'em for fun, and she ain't ever gone out her way to be cruel or anything!"

Oki blinked. She'd never in her life seen Kenki so furious and yet he was, at that moment, purely for her sake. Oki had always loved her little brother and she had always known that his loyalty was unbreakable, but she had never truly realised how deep Kenki's esteem for her dwelled. She was touched by his vehemence, wholly and purely touched.

"A killer doesn't _necessarily_ have to be mean-spirited…You know anyone can be made into killers, rare few are born to it. The first moment I saw your sister, I understood that she was a natural born killer."

"No! Shut up! Just shut up!" Kenki yelled.

Oki found herself moving before she was even fully aware of it, her body instinctively responding to the upset in Kenki's voice. He almost slipped as Oki roughly pulled him behind her but a firm hand on his arm kept him upright on the slippery surface of the rocks.

"Oki?" Kenki's voice was small in the dark of the cave.

She glared out at where she undoubtedly knew her Teacher was lurking, but spoke only to her brother, "Go home, Kenki. I'll be back in a minute. Be careful on the rocks on yer way out."

"B-But-" Kenki began.

Oki cut him off with a single look, "Go home, Kenki."

He nodded and hastily scrambled off. Oki watched him go before readdressing her Teacher.

"What the hell was that about?" she voiced sharply.

"That could very much be my question to you. _You _allowed him to enter here, after all."

Oki grit her teeth, knowing that he was in part right. She had put her little brother in harm's way again, just to sate her own guilt and curiosity. Her protection had come too late, Kenki would be having nightmares about the rasp of Teacher's voice and the way it had caressed the word 'murder' with chapped fingers, for weeks now.

But for all her fury at herself, it was equally directed at Teacher. She may have crouched in the dark and done nothing, but he had instigated the words.

"You're still angry?" he inquired in a tone that suggested he hardly cared either way.

"…No," Oki grit out, "I'm bloody furious! You get yer jollies off telling little boys that their older sisters are murders, huh?"

"I did not enjoy telling him that. I merely answered his question, if he did not like the answer he shouldn't have asked."

"Well ya shoulda lied to him or something, instead."

"So you're now suggesting I lie to a child?" Teacher's tone was brittle and slightly reprimanding, "I have come to expect many things from you, but lying isn't one of them."

Oki ground her teeth. Her blood was up but her Teacher was apathetically shooting down every comment she fired. She was quiet as she searched for an angle, anything that would justify the verbal beating Oki felt he deserved. She hadn't expected this to anger her so much but what felt like the thinly veiled bullying of Kenki Tachibana (as the conversation had appeared to her to turn itno towards the end) had churned up a poisonous mixture of fierce protectiveness towards her brother and a sense of betrayal on her behalf.

Despite all her warnings to do otherwise, over the year she had been training under Teacher she had inevitably come to trust the burned man. All the forewarnings had been there, and yet the longer she went without feeling retaliation, the more she had been lulled into a sense of safety and familiarity with his presence. Besides that she detested anyone who even looked sourly at Kenki. He was sweet and unimpressive and sensitive, and honest about those traits. He could not defend himself as Oki could, and she was damned if she'd let anyone hurt him due to that.

"I'll admit," he voiced, breaking Oki from her furious thoughts, "I did not expect that."

"Expect _what_?" Oki snapped, almost spitting the words as if they were acid.

"You to protect your younger brother," he replied.

"Of course I would! He's my little brother, isn't he?" she glared resembling a feral cat with ruffled fur.

"Yes. But you haven't given any indication of closeness before. You acted on behalf of your village earlier also. Those fireworks out there were you, correct?"

"Yeah," Oki replied warily, "An' how come you didn't expect that exactly?"

"As I said you haven't indicated any concern for them before. I will admit to being...concerned on that point. Despite a notable natural talent for the Shinobi Arts, I had expected you to continue failing to meet the sense of 'unity' the practices require. Regardless of your general rule about personal information, you've been in here with me for every spare minute of every day since we met and not once have you ever mentioned little Kenki Tachibana. Besides that there is the time itself you've spent with me, doesn't that suggest a certain disregard as to the feelings of your family?"

Did it? Oki had not thought of it in such a way.

Teacher's laugh was bitter, "you have no idea what you have, do you? Out there, you have a home, a family, a village that promises a _safe, normal_ life. And yet you've squandered every gift you've been given, taken for granted those precious things I have spent a lifetime_yearning_ for."

Oki was dumbstruck. Something in Teacher's voice had changed and that sudden vulnerability filled her with a dread that seemed as those something awful would befall should she break it.

"I suppose it's too late now. After your demonstration this morning they will be on their way, find me before the day is done and slit my throat before I even know it," another dry laugh, "then again, it's been too late for me for a good while now. I'm not entirely sure what I was holding on for."

Oki blinked dumbly.

"Would you like to listen to something tragic, Oki Tachibana? Yours is likely the last face I'll ever see, and until a few minutes ago I didn't even know your name."

….

They did arrive that night.

Like the entrance of her Teacher, the appearance of the ANBU squad was markedly devoid of exceptional weather.

She had slept the night through frost, worrying about what Kenki would do, what Kenki would think, what would happen now, what had her Teacher _meant_. She had returned home and was instantaneously filled with a bitter-sweet sense of Deja-vu, as if she had only just returned from an age-long journey. The old, pockmarked stove and frayed, colourless rug were suddenly childhood friends that she had been reacquainted with. The smell of salt, dirty clothes and her father's cigarettes had become past-romances glimpsed across a busy street. She traced her eyes across each memory associated with each nook or cranny as she struggled to grasp why exactly she was feeling so reminiscent.

And, yet she remained unsatisfied by it all.

It was warm and homey and familiar, and she was frustrated as to why she couldn't just be content with that, especially after Teacher's words. Was there something fundamentally wrong with her? The gifts she had been given couldn't be appreciated, instead she had cruised over them towards bigger heights that she would have to bleed for herself.

Waking that morning that _they_ came to crisp but polite knocking at the door, Oki's eyes had lingered on the still sleeping shape of her brother and felt the same thoughts flooded her. Should she try to be happy with this life or would she inevitably return to the cave again, even after everything that had happened the night previous?

Oki did not have time to answer, and her reply would have been unwanted anyway. Once again, time had taken the situation out of her control to the sound of three more knocks at her door, except this time in synchronisation with several other knocks at several other houses clustered by her own.

Oki hauled herself from the Tachibana's shared futon, spared a look towards the shape of her father in his armchair quietly submerging into the waking world and then struggled their warped door open.

Surprisingly, the first thing she registered was how unexceptional the weather was. Pale blue, the sky appeared untainted and cold. It was frosty as most mornings tended to be, and the strong winds from the day previous were only just beginning to work themselves from their own slumber.

The second thing she noticed was that there had been a man at every door to every house in Nishihama being gawped at by similarly bleary-eyed neighbours. Oki caught the eyes of the elderly widow next door and the unfettered panic in her rummy gaze finally stopped Oki scanning her surroundings and turning to address the man who knocked.

The third thing Oki Tachibana noticed that morning was that the three uneven swipes painted across the left side of his mask (one covering his right eye, one shorter and high up where his temple should be, the last curling just under his left eye) looked the same muddy red as dried blood when stamped across the devoid surface of his mask.

**A/N:**

**Shorter chapter but I wanted to leave it on that note. Also I am a LIAR, I just can't keep to any update dates I set myself and can't help posting as soon as I finish. So just disregard anything I say on that subject…sorry.**

**Now as SadisticAvocado picked up, I intend to reply to everyone who reviews personally just to help show how genuinely grateful I am. Not to say everyone who's followed and favourited isn't just as appreciated, because they seriously are.**

**MissJackson: Thank you for the review! I'm glad you're already hooked especially because I don't think much has happened yet XD I hope you keep reading and enjoying this story!**

**Countenance: Thanks for reviewing this, and thanks for all the reviews for Three Tails too! I'm glad I've managed to keep your continued interest ****:]**

**SadisticAvocado: Yep, Oki will be gaining some more aggressive skills but at the moment she's still at only slightly above civilian chakra levels. I don't know if I'm overreaching but I think Oki's level is alright, I mean look at Sakura graduating she had like what three jutsus and she was pretty high in class rankings. A lot of the impressive Genin jutsus are Clan techniques and I think everyone else has just the bare basics, so that's where I'm plopping Oki XD**


	5. 5: Enter the Bogeyman

Enter the Bogeyman.

It was the strangest thing; the sudden drip of warm sweat that rolled along her spine despite the chill of that morning. It had to be one of the most singularly odd and unpleasant sensations Oki Tachibana had felt until that moment. She imagines her skin like candle wax and the masked man dominating the air and space of their tiny house is the flame. The closer he gets, the more she wilts until she is unsure as to whether or not a single wick of nerves will be all that's left in his wake.

He does not look big, but to her he_ feels_ big. In stature he is only slim, of average height and dressed entirely in black. Nothing distinguishing makes itself known besides the mask which carefully conceals anything that might have been. And that is just it, exactly why Oki is unreasonably terrified of the man at the door. He had _no_ presence. No smell. No features. No colour. Nothing. Nothing at all but a bare mask and cordiality. A person cannot be a nonentity, they have to think and feel _something_. Because that man had seemed incapable of those paramount human traits, he hadn't seemed to be human at all.

"…D-Dad," Oki's voice shakes, and she'd hated that so she'd tried again, "Dad, there's someone here."

Her father seems to blanch and Oki watches as his features go lax then tighten and slip into shock again. He was pale and his eyes had darted about every corner of the room, until the very moment resignation is almost palatable in the air around him.

"Good morning," her father speaks but it is thin unlike the soft timbre of his usual tone, "My name is Kenji Tachibana, and this is my daughter Oki Tachibana. What is it I can do for you?"

"Mr Tachibana," the man speaks and once again Oki notes how it is so_ empty _of the small regional or personal afflictions that scatter a person's speech, "is this the entirety of your household?"

"No, I-er," Father places his hands on the tattered arms of his chair and moves to rise, "Ken-"

The man at the door cuts him off with a smooth, controlled wave. Everything in the room feels as though it bowed to his command, stilling, silencing, resting its entire attention solely on him.

"Call them out if you would," he speaks, "it would be easier to do deal with the matter here."

It was polite, but it was not a request. Her father's face paled further and despite the uncomfortable, prickly knot of fear buried in Oki's gut, she wanted to tell him not to obey. Keep Kenki and Kenzo out of this, she thought, keep them as far away from this faceless man as possible.

But their father had acquiesced, drawing Kenki and Kenzo from their beds with a clipped shout.

As soon as Kenki had entered the room, Oki had begun moving towards him. She paused when she felt eyes upon her, and although she could not see the eyes of the man in the mask she slowed her actions instinctively as if she'd been sighted by a wild animal. Kenki, hair ruffled and rubbing at his sleepy eyes with little fists, squawked a noise of surprise as Oki carefully tucked her younger brother behind her back and began positioning them closer to the door. The cold metal of the stove at her elbow was stablishing in the suddenly claustrophobic atmosphere of the room.

"Dad…the hell?" Kenzo groggily blinked at the masked man.

"Kenzo," Father breathed a warning before turning to the man, "can I…can I ask what this is about?"

"Of course," the man replied cordially. Oki realised with no small amount of agitation he had not so much as twitched since entering their home. His stillness was disturbing. It put her far more on edge than if the man had begun screaming and failing around. It distinctly reminded her of a cat when spotting a mouse, that tense moment of staring just before the lunge…

"I am a member of the ANBU team sent to retrieve Jounin Wataru Matsumoto. His corpse was discovered yesterday in a cave three miles from this village."

_"__I suppose it's too late now. After your demonstration this morning they will be on their way, find me before the day is done and slit my throat before I even know it," another dry laugh, "then again, it's been too late for me for a good while now. I'm not entirely sure what I was holding on for."_

Oki fought to keep her breath even. Her eyes twitched sporadically with the effort of maintaining a blank expression while internally she felt as if the very heart of her was pouring out into every direction. Kenki gasped and Oki focused on that. Kept her full attention on the stuttering beat of his heart against her back, because if she didn't…

She didn't know. She didn't know what she was feeling and what it would be appropriate to feel at the declaration of her Teacher's death. And it had to be that; despite his ruined appearance Teacher had not been dead when she left the cave the day before but this man had specifically mentioned a 'corpse'. Whatever had been said or felt yesterday, she had _known_ that man, she had placed her hopes in that man and now he was erased from existence. 'No', she clenched her jaw, 'don't think about it now, there's still an ANBU in the house and you _can't_ think about this now.'

Kenki's heart pounded in rhythm with her head and the blood rushing through her veins.

Ba-thum, ba-thum, ba-thum in her ears.

Ba-thum, ba-thum, ba-thum in the skin of her back like a reel to the waking world.

"I'm sorry to hear that," her father's voice hooked her back into the present, "…but I still don't understand what that has to do with my family."

"When we discovered Captain Matsumoto's body, we also discovered many supplies that in his injured state he would not have been capable of obtaining himself. It is our belief that he was aided by someone in this village."

Crap.

Oki's eyes widened this time. Unbelievable, she hadn't thought once about masking her presence in the cave. But then again she'd never had thought that Teacher would…

She steeled herself again. Focus, she needed to deal with the situation at hand as it came, there was no time to mull over things she _should_ have done. Oki did not understand the underlying severity of what the ANBU had said, but clearly her father had caught the implications. Kenji Tachibana stiffened so tightly, it looked as though the slightest movement would send his frame cracking and sliding apart as the ice had done yesterday. Meanwhile his daughter was teetering on a breath of relief; she'd messed up but it wasn't a mistake she'd likely make again, and with the information now given, she believed the conversation to be over.

The ANBU's next words just illustrated how wrong that assumption was.

"Aiding and sheltering a Missing Nin is, of course, treason against our Lord Mizukage and will be judged accordingly," the ANBU delivered that sentence with the same cool civility he had imparted everything else, "This was found among the supplies."

Oki's legs shake as he reaches into a pouch at his belt and produces a piece of tarp cut into a neat square.

"From discussions with your fellow villagers, the Tachibana family were the only family that would have to routinely break the ice from their fishing boat due to the absence of its previous covering," he says and then directing his empty face straight at her father, "is this or is this not a piece of your tarp?"

Oki feels sick, so sick that the bile rises with the horror, thick and acidic along the back of his throat. She's _done for_. There will be no opportunities for redemption or atonement in the merciless judgement of the ANBU's mask. She wants to run and hide and never come out again, because she knows in the very pit of her that she is _done for_.

Her legs shake and there are tears waiting in the corners of her eyes and she swallows again and again and again because she cannot escape the terror thickly lining her throat.

Thum, thum, thum and it is her heart pounding in her ears.

Stronger and bolder than Kenki 's but by God was it terrified.

"It…it is," her father's voice is tiny,_ too_ small when standing beside the immoveable force of the ANBU's.

"Understood," the ANBU nods, "Then am I correct to assume that someone in this household has been aiding Jounin Captain Wataru Matsumoto?"

**'****LIE!'**

Every single piece of her wants to scream that one word at her father. She's never been one for deceit before, but at that moment Oki fully believes that she would do anything to spirit this ANBU and the others and the whole damn morning away. A thousand different deities are begged and threatened and bargained with in her head, some she doesn't even give names just a plea for some form of intervention. Because this will be the end of her and she cannot accept it!

"I…Yes, I believe so."

A sob catches and sticks like paste in Oki's throat. She is almost too exhausted to feel disappointment.

"Yourself?" the ANBU asks.

Her father says nothing and a selfish hope begins to ember anew in Oki's heart.

"Mr Tachibana?" the ANBU prompts but Kenji tucks his head and his shoulders further down, doggedly ignoring the question until the ANBU speaks again, "Mr Tachibana, I am capable of detecting lying…I'm also capable of several unsavoury methods to acquire the answer I seek. It would be best if you co-operated."

Her father's eyes flick to meet Oki's and there are a thousand apologies in that single look.

No.

She doesn't want Kenki to suffer for what she has done but she doesn't want to _die_. The single word 'no' replays over and over again on a frenzied loop. She can't feel her body in the room, her head spins and reels and yet Oki cannot escape from the inevitability of that single look. Her world is filled only by the frantic tempo of her heartbeat and the apologies in her father's eyes.

Please, please no.

Her father wets his lips and avoids the glare of the mask, as he finally replies, "….Kenki, it was my son Kenki."

Relief blooms so large, Oki almost sags. That is until she hears a horrified sob from behind her.

Oki whirls and comes face to face with a Kenki, wide eyes beseeching and arms moving to clutch at her. Only then it clinks.

"No," she whispers, "…wait, no."

The word is louder in her head. Longer than it had been when she thought it was her feet above the pitfall. It screeches and rages and screams as Kenki pressed himself farther into her back as if her very figure would act as a buffer between him and the world waiting beyond her. Bile in every inch of her; for a moment Oki honestly thought she was going to be sick.

The shock had fallen from her in moments and all that's left is the rage.

Dear Lord, she'd never been so **furious **in her short life. Oki felt as if she had flames in her eye sockets and burning poison in her veins.

"No!" she thundered at her father, at the ANBU, at anyone who dared to tear the little fingertips digging into her clothes away, "What the_ hell_ are you talkin' about!"

"Kenki?" Kenzo spat the word, "Dad, you know it weren't Kenki!"

"Are you certain of the perpetrator, Mr Tachibana?" The ANBU spoke calmly as if the room wasn't filled with the angry shouts of two children and the desperate sobs of another. There was a tone in his voice that suggested he knew the correct answer but was waiting for Kenji's nonetheless.

"…Yes," Kenji Tachibana breathed, face flushed with shame and eyes avoiding his children.

"Oki!" Kenki wailed longer, pressing himself into his sisters back.

"You asshole!" she shrieked at her father, "Ya total **bastard**! It wasn't him! The hell are you doing!"

But she knows _why._ Kenji Tachibana had been cruelly given the impossible task of handing one of his children over to this uncertain future. Kenki was small, sickly and, if someone were to look at it from a detached perspective, the obvious choice. But that didn't make it right. That didn't make it _matter _to Oki at all. The moment her father sentenced her brother, nothing much did matter to Oki besides Kenki.

The ANBU took a step forward, panic swelled in Oki's throat and lodged there. She pulled her body higher, threw her arms out wider and almost growled at the masked man; using every method her nine year old body was capable of to vanguard her brother, hissing and spitting like a cornered feline.

"Stay back!" she snapped, "Go near him an' I swear I'll kill ya!" then to her father, "Tell him you're wrong! It ain't Kenki! It ain't Kenki damn it!"

"Do something!" Kenzo yelled, body shifting in every direction as if he didn't know what to do first.

The ANBU's arm extended out. Oki imagined grasping tentacles and oily black.

No.

No.

No!

"It was me! I did it!" she threw both herself and Kenki further away, "I did it!"

Still the arm kept reaching. She snarled, tried to shove the arm back with both of her forearms, slamming them against the underside of his elbow. The ANBU didn't as much as blink. Kenki gasped, wedged further against the stove. Oki's heart was sputtering out. Her mind went blank. Kenki screamed into the material of her shirt.

_Please, please, please no. Stop, please, don't let this happen!_

The ANBU's fingers brushed against her own. Kenki's entire body was shaking behind her. Kenzo was trying to pull the ANBU away with no results. His mask reflected the bottomless black of Oki's own petrified pupils.

_I'll do anything. I swear I'll do anything! Just let Kenki live! Anything!_

And then in the white noise of panic, a single thread of thought gently extended out and offered alternative.

She didn't even think. Didn't even contemplate the moral implications.

Oki Tachibana activated the Exploding Seal she'd carved into the bottom of her father's armchair.

The first sound in the room of the Tachibana household after completing her Snake Hand Seal was a croak, a great, dry intake as if some ancient entity had drawn its first breath. The noise moaned and wheezed and rasped through long-forgotten lungs, permeating the room with the odour of dry earth and rotten wood. The ANBU paused, the struggling of the Tachibana siblings ceased as the universe that encompassed that little room held its breath for the results.

Every functioning Exploding Seal Oki Tachibana had created up until that point had expired with an 'fwoom' and a gaudy flash of displaced air. She decided that she enormously preferred that accustomed method than the one that came creeping out from under her father's seat. Her thoughts were ludicrously calm, almost scientific as she noted that the reason the results differed was likely because she must have traced the Seal incorrectly in her anger.

It was better to think of that than the fire that engulfed her father.

**'****Psshhh'**

The flames rolled out from under the tattered armchair, licking and winking out of existence in scant seconds. It took moments for the moth-eaten material to ignite, slugging along the wood as if they were water travelling along a channel. Kenji Tachibana didn't have time to move, not before the seat of the armchair was aflame and his legs were sinking into those same fires. He screamed as it reached his chest, and the old smell from before was laced with burning meat.

"Oh God! Dad! Dad!" Kenzo's screams filled what little space his father's weren't.

Oki didn't look, she wasn't thinking properly (or maybe she was thinking _too _clearly) instead relinquishing her body to whatever phantom instinct had suggested the Exploding Seal in the first place. The burst of heat felt so very far away, as she scooped Kenki to her and made for the door. It felt like an almost physical wall of heat and burning meat separated her from the cold air of the morning. She choked, eyes streaming and fingers hooked into Kenki's shaking body.

_That wasn't her father. This wasn't happening. It was a just horrible, horrible nightmare._

The people outside were shadows, in a feverish portion of her mind she wondered if they were some form of supernatural spectators here to pass judgement. She concentrated instead on the mad barking of a neighbourhood dog, on how the clean air cut at her like knives and on what she had to do. She had to get out, get Kenki away from the danger. There wasn't time for anything else.

_Oh God, what did you do? What have you done?_

Her legs gave way on the first step and with the roaring, suffocating heat at her back and the heavy watering in her eyes; she knew that she didn't have a hope in catching herself. Instead she let herself fall those last few steps, turning her body so that she took all the impact and hugging Kenki tighter. Oki thudded to the floor, soot-stained and choking, as she laboriously moved to haul her body upright again.

_You can hear the fire, smell the fire, you know what you've done! You did that, dear God you killed…killed…_

The crowd gasped and shuffled away. Her feet weren't working correctly, dragging and clipping against one another with an aimless clumsiness she had not possessed before. Where was she going? Where did she need to go? But that instinctive decisiveness from before had deserted her now that it's deed was done, and only Oki's conscious was left with the weight of that split-second decision. She'd chosen between her father and her younger brother, just as her father had been asked to choose between them. She had weighed the value of two _human lives_, and acted to protect one and condemn the other. There were no excuses. There were no justifications or reasons or warbling compassionate pleas for understanding. There was only the direct outcome of that choice.

The consequences of which was a flickering mass of oranges and yellows through her fading visibility, and two small hands clutching to the front of her shirt.

_What have you done?_

…..

"You're awake."

Oki Tachibana woke from nightmares of familiar burning men in familiar burning houses, and realised with a frank variety of dread that it was not all a dream. In those waking moments though, the realisation and therefore the culpability or responsibility to deal with them was not her own. In fact _she_ didn't feel her own; only loosely connected to the existence of Oki Tachibana, a stranger peering into her life from behind the blinds.

There was a man kneeling before her, a man with no face or smell or distinguishing presence, only a space occupied by a mask and a body. Oki Tachibana knew this man. He'd been there when her life in Nishihama had played out its finale to the sound of her frenzied heartbeat and fire spitting.

"You recovered sooner than we previously predicted," the masked man continued, "there were no physical injuries but you're currently in a state of shock."

"S…shock?" Oki repeated numbly.

The man unwrapped a small coin of chocolate and held it out in the centre of his palm. Oki stared at it awhile, illogically fascinated with the way the little brown circle looked as though it were made to sit there.

"Eat it," he said and she found herself automatically complying.

In the quiet that followed, Oki could hear the sea and the screech of gulls. These were all sounds known to her, nostalgic and comforting and wild. They sounded subdued, whether it was due to her disconnected state or nature's form of courtesy she did not know but she found solace in it nonetheless. She could not see the man watching her but she felt his eyes on her face as she swallowed. The notion to show him her now empty mouth entered and exited Oki's frazzled mind in quick succession.

"Do you know who I am?" the man asked.

She did so she nodded, though her head felt disproportionately huge when she moved her neck.

"Do you know why I came to your home?"

She…did, yes there was something about Teacher and-

"Are you going to kill me now?" Oki questioned.

"No," he replied evenly, "We have discussed it between ourselves and came to the conclusion that there were clearly no ulterior motives in your treatment towards former Captain Matsumoto. Though it was highly probable that former Captain Matsumoto was training you as a means to aid his own escape and enable movement, it is unlikely that at that point you were aware of these intentions when taking into consideration the skill level you're currently at and your continuing visits."

"So…so what are you gonna to do with me?" her mouth (like her head) felt like it was full of cotton.

"In addition to your capability for creating Shinobi Techniques, you are still young and malleable. To destroy you now would be to waste any future potential," he spoke as if he were reading from a page, "We have decided that you will be enrolling in this year's class at Kirigakure's shinobi academy."

"Oh…" Oki breathed, not understanding nor caring in her immediate disjointed state, "….Kenki and Kenzo-"

"Your brothers are both alive and still in the village of Nishihama. I believe a Mr Koizumi volunteered to accept responsibility for them, we decided that it would be better to leave before you regained consciousness."

"You…" she swallowed against her suddenly swollen tongue, "you knew it weren't him. I _know _that ya knew it weren't Kenki."

"We did."

No apologies, no denials only a calm reply. Oki felt like screaming

"Then why did you move towards him! Why did you…you…!" she trailed away.

"We decided to observe your father's attitude. You yourself had indicated no ulterior motives; your father was another concern. He has access to Kirigakure's food supply that you do not. And though it was confirmed that you had been the one training under former Captain Matsumoto, your lack of suspicion and cautiousness with him _may_ have been a by-product of illegal activities committed by your guardian."

"I…" she choked on the next word, "…did what I did because I thought that there was no other choice! If you were….if you were never going to kill Kenki, why didn't you say? If it was only to get my father to confess to something then-!"

"Those actions were your own but they achieved our purpose nevertheless," the ANBU replies with that same polite impersonality, "The people of Nishihama are not aware of your survival; we have decided the events that followed will serve as a lesson the villagers are unlikely to forget."

This garnered an emotional response. At first it was only mild irritation that _they_ 'had decided'; a phrase that had been used repeatedly throughout the ANBU's explanations. They _had decided_ this and they _had decided_ that and Oki had been neither offered nor given any opportunity to decide anything for her damn self.

This annoyance only snowballed, focusing on one tiny aspect of the larger picture then branching out despite Oki's wishes or inclinations. The irritation was followed by immediate, huge relief that her brothers were alive. Though she had no evidence beside the word of a man who could have easily been lying to her without her knowing the difference, Oki did not suspect or contemplate. Lying did not come easily to her and therefore Oki never instinctively doubted the words of others; but more than that she needed that relief, that one piercing strain of hope to keep her through the next part.

Because whatever the ANBU had decided, what position would she ever have to judge the choices of others when _she had decided _to murder her father to save her little brother?

Oki Tachibana broke with a strangled sob; the magnitude of her decision hunching her forward and driving her fists into the sore skin of her eyelids. There are moments in everyone's lives that are points of no-return, moments where your selection will forever brand itself onto your identity. There was no going back for Oki Tachibana; she could not erase the single fact that she had killed another human being. The matter of regret was not the immediate issue; she couldn't clearly say whether she would have acted differently if given the opportunity to. It was the finality of it, the destruction of that life she'd known and the person she had been.

She wanted them back.

She wanted Kenki and Kenzo and Dad and Nishihama and Oki Tachibana_ back_. She'd spent the majority of her life wishing for a way out of those mundane, cosy days; and now that she had cut out any opportunity to experience them again she could not help mourning their loss. She choked on another sob, her eyes streaming and snot bubbling up in her nostrils as she wailed.

"I will give you 30 minutes to compose yourself," the ANBU spoke then silently ghosted away.

She didn't care. This was happening to Oki Tachibana the Murderer, the one who had orphaned herself and her brothers. The one who wouldn't eat fish stew with her family again or huddle up with two equally skinny bodies when the Winter Nights grew unbearable. The one who would never again grin and ruffle Kenki's hair when he did a good job or argue with Kenzo over something stupid and unimportant or watch the lights of Kirigakure across the sea and tell her sleepy-eyed little brother about all the grand adventures she planned to have when she got there. This wasn't the Oki Tachibana who smelt cigarette smoke when she thought of her father rather than burning flesh.

She gagged and choked until her throat was raw from crying.

That Oki Tachibana was dead, and she had no idea who was left behind.

…

Oki cried for that entire first day. By the end she had presence of mind enough to perceive the waning patience of those around her. After that she only permitted her tears in those dark times before sleep, muffling the cries with a hand pressed about her mouth.

The group she had found herself in custody of was a four man team of other masked ANBU. Though she distantly recalled there being many more of their number in the village, Oki was unsure as to whether they had diminished their numbers or preformed an advanced form of Clone Jutsu. She didn't dare ask. Even if her curiosity was present enough, these faceless shadows intimidated her on a deep, primal level that constantly reminded her of her own age and inexperience.

They had boarded a small, sturdy supply boat though only two of the ANBU were ever present and they never slept. Oki only had means of distinguishing them by the markings painted onto their masks. The boat was crafted from a cherry-coloured wood she did not recognise, and open to the world about it; the elements and ever-present mist billowing off the waves driving her deeper into her sooty, threadbare clothing. They had hacked the burned ends of her hair away and attempted to smear the soot from her face when they drew nearer to Kirigakure. The task committed in absolute silence as the ANBU leaned his back against a huge, wrapped scroll.

"What's in there?" Oki asked dully, nodding towards the scroll at his back.

Strands of light blue hair ending in brittle black fell into her lap. She could not wash out the stink of burning ham. In comparison the ANBU's lack of smell was an odour all in itself. He was neither gentle nor rough as he cleanly cut away at the burnt hair, and Oki relished the clinical approach if only because it did not offer comfort or judgment. She wondered idly if this man had children of his own and what he would have done had he been in her father's position.

The ANBU twitched ever-so-slightly, the only indication that he was surprised she had spoken after her long reticence.

"That's classified," he replied politely.

Oki turned to dispassionately watch the silvery spines of the fish passing underneath their boat. These waters were calm, unlike the moody ones she was accustomed to, serene as the boat cut through its body in steady strikes. The fog may have aided the sense of eerie peace, or the quiet of her companion or maybe the orange glow of their single lantern.

"We dock soon. Be ready," the ANBU murmured to her.

She nodded. Though feeling deadened and scrapped raw, Oki was a creature of adaptability and strong self-preservation. She knew there was no going back, the crimes had been committed, the die had been cast and there was no Jutsu or amount of heart-breaking pleas that could mend what she had done. But, in all that time sailing with these faceless men across a landscape of sea and fog and the honeyed glow of their single lantern, Oki had come to an understanding.

Our identities are entrenched in the presence of others.

She realises with a desperate grief that the moment her father went up in the flames she created and she watched that familiar life drift off like so much small breath on the wind; that face she had been wearing with them had left her too.

There was no going back.

It leaves a void as a parting gift, a hole punched right into the very fabric of her soul. And it is _that_, that still exists within Oki Tachibana. There is no going back but _there are_ steps forward for her. Her life growing up and the child she had been may ache and cry but the soul of her still remains. And she cannot forsake it now, not when it feels as though there is nothing else left for her. It is in her nature to adapt and survive, even if she isn't entirely sure what part of her told her to burn her father and what splintered parts of her endure.

Her hands shake at the thought. She wonders if this person had been known to her all along, were they something left or someone new? That part of her that acted upon an unvoiced decision without a moment's notice and mercilessly attacked her father. But she doesn't want to die, no matter the temptation to just sleep it all away.

She will not die. She will fight for that next sunrise as she'd boasted to Kenki what felt like a thousand years ago. She'll fight harder than anyone else because she _needs_ it and there are no more equalisers, no more shy smiles to comfort her or little backs to watch protectively. There is only her now and damn herself, she does not want to fail.

She will **want**, she will **work **and she will **take**.

The boat slows and it is only then that Oki noticed how close the looming shadow of the island had become. The undefined edges of its shape look as though they cut out of the dark itself, except for those few beads of candlelight threaded into the fabric. She marvelled at it, but the shadow of Kirigakure does not carry the same magic as it did when she had dreamt about it from across the water.

The ANBU stands smoothly and latches a hand under her forearm before hoisting her to her feet.

"Keep your balance," he said but Oki's been raised on boats and doesn't need instruction in that at least.

Oki squinted, legs apart and body turned away from the ANBU's hand still at her forearm. She had resented his aid, determined that she was capable enough to get by without it.

"Where's the dock?" she glanced at him.

"There isn't one," he replied and tightened his grasp further as the boat shuddered to a stop two miles from the coastline. In one fluid movement the ANBU slung both Oki then the scroll over each of his shoulders. She made a wheezing noise as the skin of her stomach contacted with the unforgiving surface of the ANBU's hardened body.

Her discomfit was not something she had time to focus on. Instead she found her stomach slipping away from her body as the ANBU and his passengers Body Flickered onto the cool sand of the beach.

A brief rush of air and one disconcerting second where the scenery blurred, and Oki was being placed back onto shaky legs. Her stomach felt disconcertingly absent but besides that she was more curious about the experience.

"How did ya do that?" she eyed the ANBU.

"I Mist Body Flickered," he replied evenly.

"And how do I do that?" she edged, snapping her gaze from the boat to where they stood in equal attempts to measure the distance and conceal her awe that it had been covered in such short time.

The ANBU rolled his head (the first display of emotion Oki had thus far witnessed) towards her, "you don't."

And despite herself, despite the pain and severity of her new promises to herself, Oki grinned.

"Yeah?" she managed to right her footing, "Inquisitive minds are a mark o' intelligence."

"Persisting in questioning an ANBU is not," he replied in those same cordial, clipped tones.

Oki's grin only grew but she kept her mouth shut at least. The ANBU did not look at her and his previous controlled body language did not change, but Oki felt his attention on her nonetheless. She wondered how they were capable of that, completely masking their presence, emotions or thoughts entirely then alternatively making themselves and their intentions known without the use of a single word or movement.

"You seem to be in a more stable state of mind," the ANBU commented and Oki froze.

What did_ that _even mean? She certainly did not feel very stable at that moment; in fact the ever present worry that she might suddenly start crying again was continuously nagging at her. But she had very little options when it came to her behaviour. She could lie down and die or just get on with it. So why, whenever she thought of Kenki, Kenzo or her father, did she feel guilty for choosing the latter.

"What's it ta you?" Oki scowled.

The ANBU inclined his blank mask minutely in her direction, "it is a far more logical choice of behaviour."

Oki could only stare at his back as he began moving into the canopy of fog and shadows and those little fireflies of light in the distance. The sky above them was deep indigo, the stars scarce and the moon pregnant with a light it did not feel liable to share with these more earthly inhabitants. The ANBU looked to Oki as though he were a creature crafted entirely from these elements, swaying through the shifting landscape with a confidence and grace that Oki envied.

She glanced back at the abandoned boat. There were no signs of the rest of the ANBU and she was sure she could swim the distance between it and the beach. She had been standing on the opposite side of that great body of water, and upon reaching it was wondering why there were no lights of Nishihama beckoning her as Kirigakure's had done. But why? Why go back?

The ANBU as if sensing her sudden bout of hesitancy stopped and turned to just inspect her.

He said, "Keep pace. Despite a less than ideal background, I do believe you will do well in Kirigakure."

She jogged to meet him on the fringe of the beach. When she fell into step with his shadow a thought occurred to her that made her chuckle bitterly and snort with restrained tears.

_Well, Oki Tachibana, you got what you wanted._

…

There were no definitive borders or transition from the wilderness to Kirigakure. One moment she was watching the back the ANBU transverse through the fog and the shadows; then the next there was lights and noise and people all around her.

Oki blinked. The sound of voices was deafening when she was used to only the lapping of waves and one or two people around her. The wall of breathing and shouting and conversation over conversation overlapping one another did not frighten her. In fact the effect was quite opposite.

She could not look at everything around her quick enough.

The first time Oki Tachibana entered Kirigakure she sincerely wished that her senses were capable of netting wider and absorbing so much more. It was a hive of street vendors and open-mouthed bars and people passing in groups with their overcast expressions turned into the collars of their raincoats. It was a collage of blues and greys, picked through with the more bold blocks of colour advertising fast-foods or hygiene products or this and that establishment. She came in the late evening, night came early to those in the Land of Water and the streets were flooded with workers returning home or flocking towards an after-work drink. A thousand different smells threaded and swelled; fish cooking, perfumes and human sweat or just whatever swills some cook was emptying out into the streets from their kitchens backdoor.

A man hit her shoulder and stunned Oki falters back. The misstep only gives her more sights to see, namely the great rises of cylinder buildings towering over the bustle of the streets below. She gaped. The moon was still full and that combined with the mist weaving upwards only made this new world about her more alien and fantastical.

Kirigakure was grotty and severe and unforgiving but far more **_alive _**than anything Oki had witnessed so far.

She could simultaneously lose herself and find herself here. That is what her first view of Kirigakure promised. A means to forgot the peaceful and monotonous life of that Oki, and carve out the identity and purpose of this Oki. She wanted to stretch out and _know_ this place like she never had before, know everything there is to know here and be everything there is to be here.

Another hard shoulder has her staggering again but before she can back step, a hand had snagged out to pull her forward.

"Keep pace," the ANBU reminded her again.

His patience was likely dauntless to be capable of leading Oki through that beehive when her attention was captured and recaptured every single moment by something new to see or hear or smell. The design of the Kirigakure architect made navigating the Shinobi Village difficult, the industrial chaos spilling out into areas that had no designed edges or through routes that had no repeating pattern. The ground reclined or declined sharply in some areas with no prior warning or when there was any they were almost always hidden in the mist. Small, stone trenches appear where this is a greater concern, and underneath these trenches Oki spies the beady eyes of street kids.

"What's that?" Oki extended one long finger towards the tiles topping a behemoth of a building (she had not know you could stack concrete so high) but promptly reacted it as a couple race past.

The ANBU did not look up, "Gardens. Keep your eyes on ground-level or you'll fall."

"Oh," Oki grinned, ignoring his comment as she squinted harder at the tufty green heads of the buildings, "why do ya have gardens on your roofs?"

"To converse space, most are recreational though a few are used to grow produce that is capable of surviving our climate," the ANBU robotically replied.

"Ahhh," Oki nodded, "What's recreational mean?"

"As a hobby. Some enjoying relaxing in gardens."

"Oh, why?" Oki snorted, "Still…that's pretty interestin'. But ya ain't got enough roofs for everyone, and I don't see too many plants…"

"The bulk of Kirigakure's food supply comes from surrounding villages and islands," he jerked his head once in her direction, "such as your own. They give Kirigakure a large portion of their supplies in return for protection against bandits or rival villages."

"So," Oki grinned, warming to this idea, "All that fish I caught came here?"

"Most likely."

"What's that?" this time she indicated with a nod of her head.

The 'that' in question was a large plateau of smoothed stone, raised slightly above the sprawl of the streets. Sharply cut stone stairs ascended towards the flat surface wherein several exotic bushes of thin branches and hanging, melancholy leaves had been carefully maintained and artistically arranged. Beyond them had stood a squat wall created from ornamental, cracked stone and beyond that several hard-faced guards took post around the perimeter of a building. This house was still circular but fatter and shorter than its counterparts, as if someone had squashed down one of the great spires. These houses were cleaner than the gritty faces of the more pedestrian variety, and Oki could spy cherry woods and decorative flowers cascading over the open-mouthed roof.

"It looks fancier than the others," Oki mused, "an' they've got guards."

"That is a Shinobi Clan Compound," he replied.

"The hell does that mean?" Oki muttered, straining harder to pick out the individual faces of the men.

"A Shinobi Clan is a family of Shinobi who pass their own individual techniques down from generation to generation," the ANBU recited, "depending on their abilities they are commonly held in great renown, and usually adopt the practice of distinguishing themselves as one individual group. Clan secrets are often possessively guarded, and a Clan tends to be as a whole loyal to their village."

"Oh," Oki frowned, "But isn't that kinda stupid."

The ANBU glanced at her, "No. Information can be considered to have greater or equal worth to a shinobi's life; these Clan Techniques have been cultivated over hundreds of years-"

"No, I don't mean that," Oki frowned, "I meant kinda showcasing your position like they are. I mean, I dunno where I am right now but I know that a Clan's there. That don't seem smart, Teacher said that you should try to….maintain invisibility for as long as possible, 'cause a Shinobi needs stealth. The whole family hangin' around in some big house that sticks out like a sore thumb ain't very stealthy to me. Pshhh, they might have 'passed ancient and secret knowledge down from generation to generation' but walkin' about in-"

She cut herself off when she noticed that the ANBU had only continued to regard her in silence.

Oki shot him an annoyed look, "What? I was just sayin'."

"I would suggest not to repeat those sentiments to any Clan members you encounter," he replied.

"Yeah," Oki sighed, "Lookin' at their houses, at least I'll know 'em when I see 'em. Probably got Clan written across their head or something."

"A Shinobi Clan tends to be proud of their heritage," the ANBU continued, "they feel as though they have opportunity to display that pride here in their home within the walls of the Village they serve."

"Yeah," she muttered bitterly, "and I thought it was alright to be proud in Nishihama, an' that ain't worked out too well for _me_, huh?"

The ANBU only stared at her a moment before continuing on in silence as if nothing had happened.

They eventually came to a halt outside one of the larger buildings Oki had seen. Unlike its neighbours, this one encompassed more than twenty floors and had been given some alterations to distinguish it. The first and most immediate being the huge arch carved into the front wall above the door, the words 'Shinobi Academy' cut into the iron grey of the stone. It had looked ominous and important in the mist and blue-tinted light of the evening, and for that moment Oki had forgotten everything else but her burst of wonder.

"This it?" Oki breathed.

The ANBU nodded once, "Yes, this is it."

"Wow," she whistled then grinned, "that's pretty impressive."

"The Academy is one of the tallest buildings in Kirigakure, barring the Mizukage's Offices of course," the ANBU supplied.

"Course, course," Oki nodded and gasped, "So how we gonna do this?"

"You are to enter the building and give your name to the Chunin manning the front desk, they were already informed of your situation and arrival," the ANBU spoke like he was mechanically reading bullet points from a list, "then I assume you will be evaluated for a place in the class starting tomorrow. As a late applicant, it is unlikely that the wait will be too long. If they find your attitude and skills acceptable, the assessors will give you the address and correct paperwork for an orphanage."

"And if they don't?" Oki was still confident in her abilities but she asked nonetheless since she'd rather be aware of what step was advised in those circumstances.

"You're on your own," he replied and with that the ANBU disappeared in a brief burst of watery vapour.

Oki stared after him. She was torn between her desire to pick apart how he'd managed that technique, and the chill that came with those menacing parting words. She shook it off, concentrating on what had to be done and how, rather than the 'what-if' questions that she had always felt frustrated with. She couldn't say that she was relishing the notion that these 'administrators' would be deciding her future, but there wasn't much else she could about it at the moment and she had no other path presently open to her.

Oki shouldered the heavy doors open and stepped into the entrance hall of the academy. There was indeed a desk, planted straight in the centre of the narrow doorway and almost impossible to bypass if you wanted to follow either of the branching corridors behind. The floors and walls were painted in neutral tones of beige and grey, the walls hung with two framed pieces posters. The first was domineeringly titled 'KNOW YOUR MIZUKAGE' and boasted a photograph of each of the four Mizukage with a bold section about their individual might printed underneath. The Fourth and current Mizukage, Yagura, glared at Oki through the glass pane; his pupil-less eyes simultaneously coolly unimpressed and narrowed slightly in bland challenge.

The second poster was emblazoned with the words 'KIRIGAKURE PRIDE' and broadcasted the faces of many determined and furious Kiri Nin blending into one another as they scowled down from their perch. Oki wasn't overly keen on either. Sure, the Mizukage one looked like it had some interesting information, but their unsubtle attempts at instilling patriotism seemed patronising to her.

Quickly she flicked her eyes across to the man who was lounging behind the desk. He only proceeded to watch her from the corner of her eye, ankles crossed and thighs resting on the wooden surface. The desk itself was clear of papers but marked with coffee rings, which to Oki said a lot about the man's unprofessional approach to his station.

She made her way over towards him, footsteps echoing through the empty hall; then frowned up from the other side of the high desk.

"Hey," the guy sighed, putting his feet on the floor while making it quite clear that he wasn't overjoyed about having to work, "can I help you?"

"Oki Tachibana," Oki got spoke candidly, getting straight to business.

The man blinked in confusion before breathing, "Oh! Right, right…er, down the hall and to the left. Then go up **_two-_**" the man stressed the word two with two fingers held up,"-flights of stairs, carry on for a bit until you come to a bunch of chairs and a couple of kids waiting outside the room."

Oki nodded and promptly followed his directions. The hallways of the Academy were very much similar to the entrance, except that they seemed to trail around the circumference of the building while the majority of the floor space was dominated by one large circular room. Each corridor was flooded with a soft light from the awkwardly placed angular lights wired into the concrete ceilings. Doors broke the monotony of the layout (Oki counted four doors at each corner of the large, round rooms) and a short, narrow staircase preceded each level.

When she reached the third floor (up two-**_two_**- sets of stairs) Oki's attention was immediately arrested by the sound of other human life. On her journey to that third floor, the only sound accompanying her had been the echo of her own footsteps. So it was somewhat a relief when she heard the whispers of conversation and feet scuffing against the floor, if only because it rid the feeling of being the last human on earth and didn't leave her alone with her thoughts. She rounded the bend to find that, there were indeed a few children her age waiting outside a door on two of the five plastic chairs placed there.

Both children glanced at her, the boy continuing to gawp while the girl quickly diverted her attention back to the wall again. Deciding she was in the right place, Oki grinned, sniffed then threw herself into the unoccupied chair closest to the door. She'd never really felt nervous around unknown children her age, and the normality of these children's appearance wasn't enough to get her starting now either.

"Er…." The boy continued to stare before blinking and thrusting a hand towards her, "hi, I'm Genzo Yagami, you must be applying here right?"

"Yep," Oki roughly shook his hand, "Oki Tachibana."

"Oh," the boy smiled, "like the oranges?"

Oki frowned, suspecting that this was likely some Kirigakure form of insult she was unfamiliar with, "who ya callin' an orange?"

"No," the boy hastily retracted his hand only to wave it and smile awkwardly in apology, "I meant your last name! It's like the Tachibana Oranges, right?"

Oki mulled it over, "…I dunno, I never really thought about it."

"Ha…ha," the boy caught his breath, "so…_are _you here to apply?"

"Yeah," Oki nodded, "do ya know how long we gotta wait?"

"Er, well," the boy scratched at his head, disturbing the too small skull cap he sported as he did so, "that's…to be honest you just go in whenever the last guy was done. There isn't an order or anything…it's just that…I've been kinda putting it off."

Oki gripped the plastic edge of her chair as she leaned forward. She looked at the door then the boy.

"Why?" she finally asked.

"….Because….well just cause, I don't really want to go in….I guess," he mumbled.

Oki frowned in confusion, "why ya here then? Go home if you don't wanna be tested."

He blinked, "eh?"

"If ya don't wanna be here, don't be," she shrugged, "just hovering around ain't doing nothing, just being pointless is all."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" the boy shouted, offended that she had supplied such a simplistic solution to what was (in his mind) a far more complicated problem.

"Jeez," Oki winced, "The hell are ya shouting 'bout now?"

"You just called me pointless!" he thundered.

Not understanding how what she said could have possibly caused offense; Oki crossed her arms, sighed with irritation and fixed him a stern eye, "_Because_ ya were being pointless, not gonna go in only to sit round here with ya thumb up ya ass _is_ pointless."

"You know what," the boy bit out, rising from his seat and collecting a backpack that had been leaning against one of the chair legs in a flurry of aggression, "maybe I _will_ go home."

"Go on then," Oki replied. She was now absolutely stupefied by (and more than a little frustrated with) the boy's sudden change in attitude.

"Bye," he said sharply, "enjoy your test."

"I will!" Oki called out to him as he stomped back down the corridor.

Sighing, she slumped further into her chair and frowned at nothing in particular. She felt eyes on the side of her face and turned to meet the gaze of the girl sitting primly on the seat farthest from the door. She was dark-skinned and dark-haired but her eyes were an odd golden tone that reminded Oki of the wrappers from those chocolate coins the Yunos had once tried flogging. Her clothes were unlike anything Oki had ever seen before then, a heavy wrap of delicate material tied about the waist with one broad strip. It had been the first time Oki had seen a kimono, and she was far more occupied with assessing the practicality of the garment rather than the beauty.

The girl said nothing.

"Ya gonna call me an orange too?" Oki huffed into the silence.

The girl silently shook her head.

"Good," Oki nodded and then proceeded to plan out how best to impress these evaluators.

…

There were three in total. Three men with completely different faces, that _somehow_ appeared to be related through the sheer similarity of their identical frowns. Oki had darted into the room immediately after the last person had left, only to be greeted with three frowning men. One had been young with board features and an equally board forehead. The middle one had been old, little spectacles resting on the ridge of a bulbous nose. And the last had been upper middle-aged with carefully maintained wavy hair and stylish stubble.

"Oki Tachibana?" the oldest one croaked.

"Yeah," Oki took point at the centre of the room with her back straight and chin raised. Equal levels of excitement and anticipation bubbling in her gut spilled over into a grin.

"Hrmm," the middle-aged one blinked idly, "while your enthusiasm is a positive, a little patience wouldn't be missed."

Oki wasn't sure _how_ she was meant to have answered that question 'patiently'; a sentiment that was clearly broadcasted by her twisted lips and raised brow. Clearly _that_ hadn't been an attitude that sat well with the judges either.

"Let's just get on with it," the younger one sighed with irritation.

Oki then proceeded to do exactly that. First they quizzed her on the general state of education; reading, writing, geography, mathematics, science. Oki being the second child of a poor fishing family did as well as could be realistically expected in that regard. She had large gaps in her familiarity with core subjects but had managed to understand basic patterns in some subjects with what little she had been taught in Nishihama. Her knowledge of Shinobi Subjects however was a great deal better; she could recite the main ideals and values of Kiri Shinobi, some historical figures and events, the advantages and disadvantages of multiple Jutsu styles, and the layouts of multiple independent training exercises. Though better than her standard education, Oki's knowledge of more martial subjects wasn't outstanding. For the majority it was unbalanced, some subjects Oki was capable of discussing in great detail and value (those ones that Teacher had thought to teach her and Oki had subsequently drilled him about) while others (the subjects Teacher felt Oki didn't need to know about) were patchy at best.

Her stamina, strength and speed however earned Oki the first approving look she'd managed to squeeze out of the trio. It was augmented by Oki's own taller build and a life that had been occupied with daily manual labour and training. The younger and older of the judges whispered to one another between reassessing looks as Oki demonstrated the Taijutsu stances she'd honed. Nothing too complex, but those ones Oki did know had been perfected with no small amount of obsessive determination on her part.

Ninjutsu had mixed results. Oki was commended on the speed of her hand signs, the control she displayed when water walking and the accuracy of her Transformation and Clone Jutsu. What was not so well received, however, was the small amount of Chakra Oki had at her disposal. Although accurate, the Water Clone melted within seconds as did her Transformation Jutsu. Her hand signs and control were praiseworthy but what was not was the amount of concentration Oki occupied to ensuring they were; making her incapable of performing other requests and lowering her awareness of the room about her significantly.

What did eventually cinch the deal was Oki's specially saved finale. She couldn't deny the swelling of pride when all three blinked as she created then activated an Exploding Tag. Still, even if she'd left with a positive reception due to that last display, Oki couldn't help feeling as though she had _just_ managed to eke into the class.

It was that sobering thought that occupied her from the class (directions to her new temporary lodgings in her fist) and out onto the streets again. Oki was still accustomed to things coming easily to her, to outshining her peers in most areas and distinguishing herself from the crowd. Here in Kirigakure….it didn't seem as though she was that impressive anymore.

All those skills she'd built with Teacher had at the time felt as if they belonged solely to her. Her trial with the trio of Chunin just showcased that not only did they apply to the majority of her peers here, but that some were even more skilled in them than she was. Oki stuffed her hands into her pockets and tucked her head further in-between her shoulders against the chill.

Now that it was night, the lights and noise of Kirigakure had taken a threatening turn that was alien to her. People and homes had never been unsafe in Nishihama; she'd never caught the shadow of a villager there and had to promptly look away with instinctive fear. All those bright lights seemed intrusive to Oki now as she turned into the alley the map had indicated, there were eyes at her back and a shiver down her spine that wasn't entirely due to the frosty temperature.

In truth, nine year old Oki Tachibana was scared and cold and missed her family so much that it _hurt_.

But these were not things nine year old Oki Tachibana could concentrate on.

She rounded a corner and was immediately knocked onto her rear by a group of scrawny, filthy children. She squawked, instantly shooting to her feet and checking about herself for any other sign of danger. There was none, the alley was empty bar a cluster of splintered crates, someone's abandoned trashcan and Oki. She breathed deeply once to try to get reign in the control she had over her rising panic, but it only intensified when she reached into her pocket and found the map to her room missing.

She searched for a good hour, even scoured the connecting street in search of the Urchins but still no look. When she was eventually too tired to bother anymore, Oki plonked herself down on the crates and stared blandly at the wall opposite her. For the life of her she had no idea how she was going to sleep without Kenki and Kenzo's heartbeats keeping time with her own. Not that sleep had been such a thing welcomed by Oki after the…death of her father... She pressed the heels of her hands in her eyes.

The first night Oki Tachibana spent in Kirigakure; she slept in an alley and cried herself to sleep.

**A/N:**

**Okay, far more depressing chapter but taking into consideration how much happened to her in this one, it's hopefully understandable. I really didn't want to make Oki too weepy in this since it's not in her nature (in my head she's the kind of person that doesn't really look at the emotional depth of things) but now I'm worried I haven't made her weepy ENOUGH XD **

**Onwards to review replies:**

**Wut: Thanks for the review! I fully intend to keep this one going, which should be easier since I've set myself some boundaries this time XD**

**Sadistic Avocado: XD I know what you mean, to be honest I'd love it if I was writing like twenty review replies each chapter even if my fingers ended up as nothing but stubs. And yeah, Oki is selfish but she doesn't really set out to be. I don't want to make her all good or all bad, so I thought that selfishness would be a flipside of being ambitious/ determined. She just concentrates on what she wants to achieve first before taking into consideration the feelings of others. But then again, I didn't want her to be so selfish that she's just cruel without reason :/ Hopefully I've got a believable blend of characteristics.**

**THANK YOU to everyone who favourited and followed this! :D**

**Anyway, hoped you enjoyed it regardless and thanks for reading! **


	6. Welcome to the Bloody Mist

Welcome to the Bloody Mist.

Oki knew exactly where she was when she woke. She'd slept so little that first night that there wasn't opportunity enough for that moment of waking disorientation. A man in a filthy apron, greasy-haired and a cigarette hanging from one corner of his thin lips, acted as Oki's notice that the rest of Kirigakure had begun to rise. He carried one bulging bin bag which he promptly deposited in the trash can across from where Oki was huddled. He didn't glance at the nine year old once, and Oki believed that said much about how regularly the citizens of the Bloody Mist came across homeless children sleeping in dirty alleyways.

"Hey!" she called as he turned to stroll off.

The man paused for a moment before hunching his shoulders and quickening his pace.

"Hey!" Oki darted in front of him, "do ya know somewhere where I can clean myself up?"

He looked at her for a long tense moment without actually _looking_ at her. The lined edges of his watery eyes cut up and over her shape but never her face, never her eyes. Oki wondered how these people had mastered the art of ignoring something that was happening right in front of them. A thin slither of dread unwound and circled her gut when she then wondered _why_ they'd have to bother master the talent at all.

The man sucked on the butt of his cigarette a moment before replying, "Nope…sorry," then he was off, shaking away her existence with every step he took.

It wasn't the answer she wanted, and so Oki decided that it wasn't one she was willing to accept. She wanted to reach the Academy early and as well turned out as possible to the very best first impression. Although there wasn't an awful lot she could do about the tattered state of her clothing, she could arrive fresh-faced and better smelling than garbage at least.

Once again, she skidded to a halt in front of the man, "then let me clean up at yours, please?"

The man blinked and for the first time actually glanced directly at her face, "you nuts?"

Oki answered that question as she usually answered any question directed to her, bluntly, "well I guess I ain't ever been called _sane_ before."

The man shook his head and tried to push past her, "piss off."

Once again she darted in front of him, "look ya got somewhere to be, right?"

He scowled at his feet, "How did-"

"You're bringing trash out this early. If you ain't going anywhere it could probably have waited, huh?" Oki grinned and shrugged, "if ya want me to stop bothering you just let me wash at yours…please."

"How about I just thump you one?"

She blinked. Her father had only ever laid his hands on her once, and even after that had been profusely regretful about the incident. Besides that, an adult had never threatened her with physical harm before and she was more than taken aback that there were such adults who were willing to. It just didn't_ fit_ into the list of behaviour Oki had previously thought applied to her elders. Adults talked about money and drank and laughed at jokes Oki did not understand; they did not hit you. But nevertheless that was the situation she had been in, so she had to react to that only; prior experience aside.

"You could do that, I guess, but…" Oki pulled herself straighter, "I'm a student of the Shinobi Academy, so I wouldn't recommend it."

The man's reluctant agreement was instantaneous. Oki decided to keep in mind that tactic for later use. As promised she only made use of the man's bathroom, scrubbing her skin raw with a pebbled bar of soap that was rapidly waning thinning each time Oki produced lather. The soap didn't smell much better than her clothes did; something mossy and outdated to its scent that reminded her of the rug in the main room back home.

_Home._

Oki shook her head, reached for the bucket of cold water and promptly upended it over her head. She felt better for it, the rush of cold water and cold air passing over her skin in a bloom of sharp, clear-headed relief. She couldn't think about home. This was a new day. Oki had promised herself that from now on she would only live for new dawns instead lingering over old ones. Towelling off her body, Oki frowned at her reflection in the puddle of water about where she sat.

She didn't look much different and for some reason unnamed to her Oki was bitterly disappointed by that fact.

Her eyes looked darker but only because the purple bruises form lack of sleep only made the black irises that much bolder. There was a cut across one cheekbone and a bruise underneath her jaw (likely from her tumbling descent down the stairs of….that place) but even these were already scabbing over or fading. She'd never had long hair but it was now even shorter, great chunks of it removed to leave the light blue tresses hanging unevenly about her cheeks. Oki pushed both palms in the water and slicked it back, the front perfectly smooth while the rear flicked up obstinately.

"Kid!" a banging on the door jolted her, "Hurry up and finish! I want you out ASAP!"

Oki scrambled, throwing one dirty look at the door, before yanking her clothing over her shivering body. The black trousers only reached midway on her calves. The sleeves of the grey shirt had to have been shorn off months ago after they began impending movement. The wooden bottoms of her sandals were sturdy at least and although the sleeves of her shirt had strangled her arms at least it was baggy elsewhere. With her sever hair and run-down clothing; Oki could fully understand why the man had been nonplussed by her appearance. She_ looked _just like one of Kirigakure's street-thugs, down to the hawk-eyed stare and persistent, challenging set of her jaw.

"New start," Oki muttered to her reflection, psyching herself up, "gotta show 'em what we're made of. New start. C'mon Oki, you're tough, you can do this. You _can_ do this."

"Kid! I'm not going to-" the man paused as he eventually worked the bathroom door open only to find the room was empty.

…

Oki Tachibana was not the type of person to concern herself with the impression she gave others.

And it showed. It showed in the way she surveyed the newly forming crowd of similarly aged children, it showed in the clinical interest she passed over each excited conversation and nervous glance, and it showed in the way she stood, ram-rod straight and confident in her own sphere among the milling bodies surrounding her. She'd been the first to arrive and she took a small amount of pride in that. The Academy was no less robust in the morning light; powerful and dominating like a general inspecting its potential recruits.

There'd been more than a few curious glances her way, but at that moment no one had deigned her presence approachable enough to introduce themselves. She was also somewhat surprised to notice how many among her prospective classmates' number had the same sharp teeth as her. The Tachibana's carnivorous appearance had been something of a novelty in Nishihama. In the courtyard of the Kirigakure Shinobi Academy, Oki was by far not the most unusual looking of the children (she'd seen a boy earlier with gill's beneath his eyes and another with thick, greyish webbing stretching between each finger). She was, however, one of the (if not _the_) tallest of the children there. Because the age groups had been so scattered among the children of Nishihama, Oki had never realised how much she towered over children the same age as her, some even only managing to scuttle up just below her shoulders. Her height combined with her skinny portions and larger head only gave Oki a distinct resemblance to a lollipop; long, stick-thin body and big, bobbly head on top.

Of course Oki was somewhat blind to that comparison, considering that only thing she was counting was how many heads she could directly see over and how long she'd been waiting for those double doors to open.

"I don't like the way he looks," a voice to her left interrupted her tally, "I dunno, it just kinda seems…cocky, y'know?"

Oki glanced in the direction of the voice and observed a stout boy, maybe a year older than herself with cropped hair and a generous smattering of freckles decorating a button nose. His eyes were rather small as they in turn watched her watching him, small and red rimmed like two little beads sewn into his face. She had no idea who he was discussing with the three boys huddled around his back, but she was hardly concerned. Oki was there for the Academy, not them.

"Yeah, yeah, I get what you're saying Akira," another boy at the first's (Akira apparently) shoulder with large glasses and gaunt cheeks squinted at her, "kinda like he thinks he's better than us or something…erm," he clicked his fingers and grinned, "ain't got the time for us, that's the term."

Akira snorted, "Probably 'nother fucking Clan kid. Snobby bastards."

Oki was completely unfamiliar with most the curses Akira was spitting out, but then again she wasn't interested in whomever Akira and his friends had seemingly taken a disliking to. That was business between them, and at that moment did not interfere with Oki's own goals.

"LINE UP!"

The sudden intrusion of that single booming voice lacing through the previous chatter, had most of the collected children seizing up like rabbits. It took a moment before those few among the number who were more accustomed to such orders or more capable of reacting quickly began to file into a single row. The others soon fell into place until the courtyard was neatly regimented with row upon row of eight to ten year olds. Oki had quickly snagged a place near the end of the very first row, between a girl who kept trying to discreetly wipe her sweaty palms on her pant legs and a boy who kept sniffing.

There were three men standing at the very centre of the entrance, and Oki instantly recognised them as the three men from the previous day. The younger one took a wide-legged stance in middle this time, arms crossed over his massive chest and glaring out at them. If the man hadn't been scowling so hard and hadn't supported such a brutal haircut, he'd actually be quite 'pretty', long eyelashes, blonde-haired and feminine-featured as he was. But that was if he_ hadn't_ been scowling so hard. The man glowered at each child as if they had personally offended him, and Oki couldn't work out whether his angle was intimidation tactics or if he just genuinely despised them all simply for existing.

Someone groaned then whispered in the row behind her, "oh crap, it's melon head."

Oki grinned. The man's head did carry look very melon-esque. A very pissed off melon, Oki amended, with long eyelashes.

"Man," the boy behind her continued, "he hated my guts during that entire evaluation."

"What for?" Oki whispered back, deeming it safe now 'melon head' was stalking along the rows and curiosity getting the better of her.

The boy didn't answer for a while, clearly debating whether or not to associate himself (even loosely) with someone he didn't know nor knew the popularity of in the group.

"I, er, may have got a little nervous," the boy whispered back.

"Of them?" Oki subconsciously glanced over to where the two other judges were standing before shrugging, "why…an' how nervous are we talkin' here?"

The boy covered a laugh with a cough, "a whole lotta nervous," was the ambiguous reply.

Oki frowned, unsatisfied with anything that wasn't a straight answer, "like crap yer pants nervous? Or-"

At the squeak of strangled laughter told Oki everything she needed to know.

"Ya crapped yourself during the evaluation!" Oki whispered furiously; half-way between shock and laughing out loud, "how the hell did they let ya in?"

"No," the boy whispered back, trying to stop himself from laughing too, "I just farted but oh man, it was rotten like _real_ rotten. I mean for a second I thought I'd had a heart attack or something."

Oki's shoulders were shaking with laughter now and she had to clamp a hand over her mouth (she was nine and to a nine year old, farts were hilarious).

"Oh, man, god you should have smelt it!" the boy continued between his own laughter, "and it went on for like ten minutes, I swear, but the entire time I was just making like awkward eye contact with melon hea-"

"Something funny, Mr Oda?"

Oki _felt_ the presence at her back rather than seeing him. The very air around the youngest of the assessors seemed to be vibrating with barely contained irritation. His tone when addressing the boy (a-someone-Oda) was slow and caustic; daring him to try, _just try_, answering that with some amusing comment. Oki didn't know which reply the assessor was hoping for more, something submissive and polite or some remark he would have complete validation for punishing the boy for.

"No, of course not Sir, sorry Sir," clearly the boy behind her wasn't dim.

"Good," the reply was clipped and completely unsatisfied, "since you're so talkative Mr Oda, why don't you put that mouth to good use?"

"Is that such a good idea? Y'know what the kid does when he's nervous."

Crap.

Oki's eyes widened the second it finally registered. Why did she say that? She wasn't exactly shy and retiring, but she'd never been _suicidal_ either. What had happened to all those determined promises to make a good first impression? Discussing _farts_ with what was clearly the most short-tempered of the grown men overseeing them was not an intelligent way to make a good first impression.

"Names?" the man bit out.

"Hajime Oda," the boy beyond her blurted, the very end of his sentence rising to an embarrassingly high pitch.

"Oki Tachibana," Oki was rather proud of the way her voice remained comparatively even when compared to the boy's reply.

"Oda and Tachibana," the man murmured and Oki strained towards the sound of papers flipping against a clipboard. Eventually they ceased, but by now Oki could feel the eyes of every child in that courtyard stuck on her and Hajime's faces like intruding fingers trapped in honey.

"Good news!" but the man's voice was too malicious for the news to be anything but good, "you two are in my class!" here he raised his voice to address the rows of children as a whole, "that of course means that you're both illiterate orphans or just plain stupid!"

Oki gritted her teeth, the weight of those stares on her back growing. At the front row there was nowhere to look but dead ahead, she made an effort to glare regardless.

'Orphan' was not a term Oki could associate with herself. It had only been weeks since she was even valid to be coined as one, and although technically she _was_ an orphan Oki didn't like it. She loathed the pitying conations connected to the word, like she was a charity case or someone who needed to be handled with care. She couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand that people would feel sorry for her when she was trying her best to meet every grand announcement she'd made and secure each achievement under her belt.

"Now!" the man turned, taking a spot at the front, "I'm going to call out names, if one of them is yours step forward!"

Suffice to say Oki's good first impression went the same way Hajime Oda's, did in a mortifying puff of hot air.

…..

Each 'class' at the Kirigakure Shinobi Academy was separated into three groups of roughly 30 to 40 students. These groups focused on aspects that needed improvement and those that were at or above a suitable level. Mr Anzai (as she soon discovered was the impatient man's name) was not broadcasting the social and intelligential level of the vast majority of his class purely to embarrass Oki and the boy (though that was the bulk of the reason); everyone in Group C _was_ either an orphan or unsuited to scholastic pursuits.

Group C also happened to be the recurring largest of the three sections of the class. Group A mainly consisted of 'Clan Kids' ('Arrogant Dickheads' as most of her classmates tended to refer to them) or children from typically Shinobi families. The Clan Kids tended to have had a better home education and more advanced use of Ninjutsu, but had less understanding of situational conflicts and combat that wasn't initiated in a Dojo. Group B mainly consisted of those from civilian backgrounds with a single Shinobi parent or relative; those whose parents could afford schooling but were lacking in areas of Ninjutsu or Taijutsu. Then there was the predominately largest group, Group C who was often street orphans or the younger children of poorer families and therefore didn't receive or couldn't pay for an education. But nearly everyone in Group C possessed the physical capabilities or a sharpness of mind that wasn't measured by how many math problems you could solve.

Oki hadn't expected the system to work. There were 105 students in her class overall, and the notion that they could just be slotted into three neat groups, although appealing to her more orderly tendencies, still seemed laughable. 30 in Group A, 35 in Group B and 40 in Group C. All tied up nicely in whatever quarter of those large circular rooms they had been designated.

She was disappointed at how easy it was, how you couldn't rightly argue that anyone in her group or any of the students in Group B or Group A differentiated from anyone else in their section. There weren't any Clan Kids who were incapable of spelling their name, or children of merchants who could beat down a street kid in a fist fight or even an orphan who could outclass a Clan Kid in a Ninjutsu display. To Oki, who wholly believed that _anything_ was capable with time and effort, she felt foiled that the three mentors could sum up her and every single one of her fellow students with practiced predictability.

The classrooms reflected the same segregated pattern. The huge, circular rooms Oki had trailed the edges of before had been divided into four unequal quarters, a room for each group and a communal restroom. The actual rooms themselves were huge, the teacher's desk at the end head of the triangle, with tatami mats at the wider back of the room for Taijutsu practices and metal desks bolted into the floor in the middle. These rooms unlike the corridors were not entirely devoid of personality. A large blackboard was stretched across the left hand side while racks of weapons, scrolls and various other Shinobi tools were jealously guarded by wire mesh or locked trunks along the right. However, while the room made up for its uninspired colour scheme with its interesting decorations, the lack of light and windows did began to suffocate after a few hours.

Mr Anzai was nonplussed with their reactions, and quite demonstrative with relaying that to them all.

"Listen up!" he yelled, a volume level that Oki was beginning to suspect was quite natural to him, "I am not here to 'take care' of you! I am here to _train_ you!"

"Any whiners, any know-it-alls and any fucking jokers," at this he sent a sharp look towards Hajime Oda, "will get out of my classroom or suffer the consequences! You are no longer children!"

A shocked silence fell over the classroom as Mr Anzai lifted himself from his seat, planted two scared and hard-lined hands on each corner of his desk and stared at each and every one of them with such a powerful contempt that Oki felt momentarily stunned. She'd never heard an adult use such words or such violent tones and body language with a child her age before. Mr Anzai intimidated her, but in another almost twisted way he had just earned an admiration that Oki had never felt for an adult before.

All of the adults in Nishihama were content to stay there, and no matter how much Oki may have liked them as people she couldn't_ respect_ them for that decision. Teacher had seemed fantastical to her but it was what he was capable of, not himself that garnered Oki's awe. Mr Anzai may have had been talking to a group of eight to ten year olds but he had just barked every last one into complete obedience within seconds. She could and did still think him malicious and somewhat petty, and she still didn't like the red-faced man but that didn't remove the respect she had for the unapologetic way he held himself. He didn't like them and he didn't care how they felt about that, they _would_ do what he said regardless.

"Not one person in this room has the right to be considered a child anymore!" Mr Anzai continued, "You are all training to become Shinobi and I will treat you like Shinobi regardless of age! Like any Shinobi you do what your superiors say and you keep your goddamn complaints to yourselves! Am I clear?"

"Yes Sir," came the wavering reply.

He seated himself and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes still maintaining that unflinching criticism. Oki swore she could hear twenty sighs of relief at her back.

"Now," his tone was quieter than the shout it had been but no less forceful, instead of barks this was more like hot gravel being crushed underfoot, "my name is Nozomu Anzai. You will address me as Mr Anzai or Sir. For anyone who thinks its good idea to call me by my first name…" he levelled another glare at the audience as a whole, this one sharper and just as biting, "…it's_ not_. I have the permission to, so I _can_ and _will_ break your legs if any of you little shits ever treat me with such familiarity."

"By the end of today you will be capable of writing my name and the name of every single one of your classmates," Mr Anzai leaned back in his chair, arms still locked over his chest and eyes still measuring them all up, "in the afternoon you will be capable of copying the appearance of every single one of your classmates using Transformation Jutsu. We will stay here until every single little snot-nosed bastard in this class has done so…_correctly_," he added with another scathing glare, "by tomorrow you will know every single person in this room and anyone who can't is going to get their legs broken, do I make myself clear?"

"Understood, Mr Anzai!" the response was louder more through fear than any enthusiasm for what was planned.

"Alright," he nodded, "Hajime Oda, you're up first."

Oki perked up at the name, instantly recognising it as the one the boy from before had given. She'd had yet to place a face to the voice. As she leaned forward in her chair to eye the boy reluctantly dragging himself out of one of the desks at the very back, Oki found face and voice were perfect for one another. Hajime Oda possessed a thin face and fox-like features, his nose a wiry strip with tiny nostrils, his mouth-perpetually moving in accordance with whatever emotion he was feeling at that point- was thin and just a little too long for his face, and his eyes were sweeping. Individually, these were not very desirable features but all together they seemed to somehow _fit_ on Hajime Oda. He looked how his voice sounded, sly and brash but loveable for it.

"Right then, Hajime, why don't you start by writing your name on the board," it wasn't a question since it was obvious that Hajime had no choice in the matter and that both already knew the answer.

"I can't, Mr Anzai," Hajime replied, "never learnt."

"Did I ask you that?" he barked back, "I told you to right down your name."

The boy's jaw ticked and Oki could see the brief spark of retaliation twitch through the entire length of Hajime Oda's body. Mr Anzai saw it too, almost revelled in it, his eyes locked onto Hajime's and just begging him to try it. It took Oki a moment to fully comprehend what Mr Anzai was doing. Hajime and Oki alone so far had been the only two members of his class to show any form of disregard for his authority (indirectly or not). Everyone may be terrified of him now, but Mr Anzai was still expected to keep a class of 40 children under tight, military control. He couldn't allow things to slide or small incidents such as the one earlier would only snowball, and as a result he needed to reassert who was dominant between him and those who disobeyed. Apparently this was done by sacrificing Hajime Oda's self-confidence in front of an entire room full of his peers.

Oki didn't involve herself with the problems of other people. Barring Kenki, she'd always expected people to resolve their own issues unless of course they specifically asked her for help and she deemed it a worthy enough challenge. But the snickers that rippled through the glass when a red-faced Hajime started chalking out nonsense shapes on the blackboard were a matter of pride. To Oki, Hajime Oda was_ trying_ and did not deserve to be ridiculed for that. If he'd just thrown the chalk down and started crying, she wouldn't have been able to sympathise in the least, but the very fact that the boy was trying as hard as he could was not lost on her. She respected effort, and to an extent that brand of determination that bordered on stupidity. He shouldn't be laughed at for that. Wasn't 'complete the mission, no matter what' one of the key Shinobi ideals. Oki's blood boiled the more she sat there thinking about it. And the louder the jeering whispers grew, the more she felt certain that Hajime's social torture could not be allowed to stand.

"Hey!"

Before she was fully aware of what she was doing, Oki Tachibana was on her feet and announcing her distaste to a class of 39 students and one teacher with obvious anger issues. The word screeching through her head as everyone turned to face her was a prolonged, frantic 'crap'. Her arms started shaking when Mr Anzai's eyes narrowed into hers but she clenched her fists tight, drawing in any outward anxiety.

"I," her voice faltered slightly so she coughed and tried again with a harder expression, "I wanna write my name first."

Hajime Oda was staring at her with his mouth agape. Oki only knew this because she was resolutely scowling at the nonsense characters sloppily drawn onto the blackboard. Her gut dropped, her fists tightened twice and her lips were twitching with the need to apologise and seat herself again. But she couldn't back down now, whatever the consequences may be Oki had set herself on this course and was forced to ride it out till the end.

She startled minutely when Mr Anzai broke the silence, "Is that right, Tachibana?"

"Yeah…" she managed before remembering a belated, "…sir."

"I see," she heard the creaking of his chair and desk as he turned to address the still shell-shocked boy, "and how do you feel about that, Mr Oda?"

For a moment Oki's dark eyes met the thin green eyes of Hajime. She pushed out a breath, making her gaze as steady and forceful as possible while she attempted to decipher the complex mix of plea and shame in his. A single moment then Hajime's eyes skittered elsewhere, anywhere but Oki or Mr Anzai before finally locking onto one corner of the room.

"I'm…er, I'm okay with it, I mean if he really wants to write his name then I guess who am I to judge...and stuff," Hajime finished lamely, one hand coming up to rub the elbow of the other self-consciously.

"_You_," Mr Anzai boomed in reprimand, "Hajime Oda are the one being asked to write on the board!" he jerked one scarred finger in her direction, "_They_, Oki Tachibana, is the person attempting to take that task away from you! If Tachibana here wants to write first so much that they'll challenge you for the right, what do you do?"

Hajime struggled, eyes dancing from one face to another for an answer. Stalling noises bubbled up in his throat again and again, while the arm at his elbow was rubbing at the skin as if it were trying to sand it down to the bone. Oki already knew what answer Mr Anzai wanted, it could potentially be equally as humiliating as his previous task but at least that way Hajime Oda would be dealing with something he must have had prior knowledge of.

"I'll fight him for it," Oki addressed Mr Anzai, feeling somewhat smug when the man smirked.

"You hear, Mr Oda? Tachibana here's willing to fight you for it. Do you accept?"

Once again Oki attempted to pin down Hajime's eyes, willing him to accept, to not make a bigger fool out of them both. The sheer amount of effort Oki invested in compelling the boy felt as if Oki was expending actual physical energy. Oki' world narrowed; the whispers of her classmates behind her faded into the grey walls of the room while the naked doubts in Hajime's eyes were stark and vibrant.

"Okay," Hajime nodded.

At that Oki _did_ grin.

At Mr Anzai's direction Oki and Hajime took their places, opposite and three steps apart from one another on the thin mats at the forefront of the classroom. Oki and Hajime removed their sandals at the edge before taking their positions. The cold seeping into her bare feet from the material underneath made Oki's toes curl and a shiver wormed through her body. The room was silent now, the other children watching the exchange with muffled excitement. Or bloodlust. She wasn't entirely sure which or whether the two were just tethered to one another.

"You two ready?" Mr Anzai yelled across the room.

Oki spread her legs and bent her knees, bringing her arms up as she stabilised her centre of gravity. Hajime pulled his arms back and toed a single foot forwards, watching her face with an uncanny focus that, bar herself, Oki had not seen in a child of that age. It was the first time she'd been tasked with squaring off against someone her own age (beforehand her Teacher or more accurately his clone was always her opponent) and yet…Oki couldn't find it within herself to be intimidated by Hajime Oda.

He looked intelligent; intelligent enough to agree to this match only when he had some probability of winning. And if his stance and the assessing way the boy was weighing the distance between the two of them was anything to go by; she was going to get one of the boy's feet across the back of her head as soon as Mr Anzai gave them the go. But it wasn't Oki's physical abilities that made her feel separated from the boy across form her, it was her mental ones.

Oki Tachibana had killed another human being. Oki Tachibana had nowhere else to go and no other direction to move in. It felt as though she were in a different world or at least on another different layer of this world's skin, to the boy across from her. As she stared Hajime Oda down she felt removed from her peers, separated by that single experience and all the subsequent consequences it implied.

Oki drew a breath-

"GO!"

-and brought her arm sailing up to guard the foot flying at the left side of her face. Hajime's kick made contact with the skin of forearm with a dry 'smack' and a sharp, stinging sensation. Oki's eyes twitched as she felt the blood vessels burst under the blow, bruises already flowering and pins-and-needles sweeping right down to her fingertips. The second blow came, hitting exactly the same place with exactly the same force. She bit down on the gasp, forcing herself to remain stationary and guarded as she kept her eyes zeroed in on the way Hajime was moving.

He kept his body (especially his head) tilted away from her, swaying with a practiced evading motion after every kick. This was a boy clearly accustomed to hit-and-run tactics, and considering his speed and accuracy Oki was willing to bet he hadn't been caught on the receiving end of a retaliation so far. The third impact came and with it Oki's arm tremored with the effort of keeping itself in position. The next one, when that came she'd strike. Subtly Oki shifted her other arm backwards, curling the wiry muscles in anticipation and repeating the smooth motions of her upcoming attack on rerun in her head.

When Hajime's foot struck her next Oki whipped the arm he'd pounded against down and immediately up again. The suddenness of her movement had Hajime's foot sliding into the crease of her elbow as the rest of her arm curled, coiling itself around Hajime's powerful leg while her hand clenched at the meat of his calf. Hajime blinked and pulled once but Oki was already moving, yanking his body off balance with his captured leg as she shifted her weight towards her other hand. A hand that was fisted and whipping right under Hajime's chin in one smooth, perfected motion. Blood filled the boy's mouth as his teeth were violently clanked against each other, his tongue trapped between them and tearing on the incisors. His head snapped back, white blooming painfully bright in the space between his eyes.

Oki shifted again; viciously yanking his captured leg farther as her other hand came to support her injured arm. She swung Hajime's body in a loose semi-circle before releasing her grip and sending the spluttering boy sliding across the mats.

Hajime did not get up.

Oki panted back her breath, closing her eyes for a brief moment against the numbness in her left arm. It tingled and twitched sporadically and she was not eagerly anticipating the moment the pins-and-needles left and the ache swept in. Slowly she pulled herself upright and found herself confronted with 38 pairs of wide eyes.

A few of her classmates were grinning, more were frowning but all of them were curious about her in some respect. Oki found herself grinning, bathing in the sudden attention and regard for her talents. The children of Nishihama hadn't understood, wouldn't have recognised or respected the sheer amount of pride and effort Oki had radiated in that single bout. Whatever these children's opinions of her at least they could not ignore the things she was capable of. Oki felt her chest swell, felt her grin reach face-splitting proportions as the admiring whispers rippled and multiplied. She looked to Mr Anzai next and could easily delude herself that there was some small amount of pleasant surprise in the set of his furrowed brows.

"Alright Tachibana, show us your name," Mr Anzai muttered, his expression bored and resigned.

"Thank ya, sir," Oki beamed, grasping the chalk and feeling herself grow taller with each set of eyes stapled to her back.

…..

"Are you nuts?"

Hajime Oda was not having the best day of his life. Then again being humiliated in front of his new class, beaten up by the resident beanstalk in front of his class and then having said beanstalk announce that the two of them were going to be best friends when he had tried to slip away for some grub, was (surprisingly) not the _worst_ day he has ever experienced either.

Another shoulder pushed at his back, the sharp indents of elbows digging into the undersized raincoat he'd donned for so long he'd forgotten when and where he'd swiped it. It must have been years ago, the cuffs and collar were tight enough to turn his skin yellow whenever he strained the material. The shorts were newer at least, though he'd 'borrowed' them from someone's washing line the moment he'd been admitted into the Academy.

The starchy scent of riceballs filled the bottom level dining room and Hajime inhaled deeply as the smell wafted through the throngs of chattering students. Food was perhaps the main reason he'd even bothered to try out for the Academy. Despite the apparent dangers that came with a Shinobi Career, a spot in the Academy guaranteed lunches and a bed in a local Orphanage. With the number of misplaced children increasing during the war, these meagre offerings were more than enough to reel them in by the droves. While the students of Class A and B may have enlisted due to desires such as bring family honour or simply finding some sense of identity, Hajime and plenty of his fellow classmates had much more pressing concerns. Such as empty bellies and somewhere to rest your head at night that wasn't near the local drunk's pissing wall.

"No," Tachibana replied, eyes latched onto the woman handing out riceballs to the kid three spaces up the line from them.

"Yeah," Hajime smirked, "that's what a crazy person _would_ say."

Tachibana's gaze shifted to evaluate him from the corner of his eye, "yeah? And a sane person wouldn't?"

Hajime found himself squirming despite himself, before Tachibana's eyes slid back towards the food again. The kid was weird, Hajime decided, blunt and forceful and more than a little intimidating when faced with his towering height and hawk-eyed stare. Hajime was more than a little concerned that Tachibana was a few kunai short of a holster too, what with the way the boy just came up to him in the line and announced that they were going to friends from that moment onwards. Kids didn't do that. Well, none of the kids Hajime had known anyway.

"Why're you so interested, huh?" Hajime muttered, ambling forward with the rest of the line as he did so, "if you haven't forgotten, we just spent the first five minutes of class knocking seven hells outta each other."

Tachibana grinned, a flash of sharp white teeth, "Yeah, I remember."

Hajime blinked, waiting for his taller classmate to continue that thought before giving up and drawling, "_So_…?"

"So, you're strong," Tachibana shrugged, "I think if I'm gonna have allies, they better be strong ones."

Hajime flicked his eyes across to where Tachibana was still watching the cook like a shark who'd scented blood. 'Allies' not friends. He mulled on that, not on what exactly that said about Tachibana's regard for his classmates, no, he thought about the potential positives and negatives of counting Tachibana as such a thing. Hajime was quick and wiry but as earlier today had proven, not the best in a square fight. Being affiliated with Tachibana _could_ keep some of the more...aggressive residents of Class C off his back. Not to mention…Hajime glanced across at the group of girls giggling and whispering about Tachibana further down the line…there was_that_ too. The second reason Hajime had signed up for the Academy, a _very_ close second to the pressing concerns of hot food and a warm bed.

And then again, the boy had saved Hajime's hide back there (wounded tongue and ego aside). Hajime still had no idea what to chalk that up to, _obviously_ Tachibana wasn't a bleeding heart or the kid wouldn't have punched him so damn hard but his intervention meant he didn't get the same satisfaction the rest of the class apparently had when Hajime was forced into embarrassing himself. Tachibana seemed too straight forward to have some hidden endgame but nowhere near compassionate enough to stick his neck out for Hajime just because of the basic goodness of the act. So what had that been all about? Had he written the taller boy off one way or another, or was this simply one of those little illogical things in life that wasn't worth pursuing for a definite answer? Whichever Hajime felt grateful, the pros outweighed the cons and some sense of honour among street kids had him weighing in the affirmative anyway.

"Alright," Hajime sighed, "I guess I see where you're coming from."

"Good," Tachibana nodded as if everything had been very neatly resolved and he wouldn't have to worry about any future concerns on the subject. In fact his entire approach to the 'friendship' situation had been like the boy was attempting to mark off something on a checklist.

1) Arrive taller than everyone else.

2) Beat kid up in a roundabout helpful way.

3) Make friends ('strong' kids need only apply).

4) Get your riceballs.

Well, Hajime had to give Tachibana an A+ if that was the boy's mental checklist; although he was still apprehensive about associating with someone who _would_ devise a mental checklist such as that.

"But," Hajime edged, "I wanna know what this entails, I'm not going to have to do anything…creepy right?"

"Creepy," Tachibana turned to grin down at him with a single brow raised.

"Yeah," Hajime drawled, keeping careful focus on the rather daunting expression on Tachibana's face, "_Creepy."_

"Like-"Tachibana paused to accept the riceball and thank the cook. Then he waited for Hajime to palm his own before continuing the conversation, "-what, huh?"

Half the riceball was disappeared into Tachibana's mouth with one carnivorous gulp. He polished off the last in another; licking at his fingers and keeping his back to the wall as he hungrily watched the children at the forefront of the line collect their own meals. Hajime tucked himself into Tachibana's shadow, eyes darting about the congregation. Some were seated on the floor, some drifted about in groups (or in the case of the Clan Kids formed exclusive clusters), and some of the more perceptive students had secured themselves corners or walls that prevented any unwanted thieves sneaking at their backs. The room was devoid of greenery, the mist outside seeping in through the high windows and transforming the occupants into veiled spirits. Still, crap hole as it was to Hajime, he couldn't deny that there was a tragic, vicious sort of beauty to Kirigakure's bare-faced architecture and blue-tinted light. Even here, with a bunch of scrawny kids scarfing down likely the first hot meal they'd had in awhile.

"Like I dunno," Hajime shrugged, "Attacking the elderly, eating babies, that sort of thing?"

Tachibana snorted in amusement, "the hell would I wanna eat a baby for?"

Then with that same half-amused and half-confused expression turned to Hajime, "You sure _you_ ain't crazy?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Tachibana smirked, "That's what a crazy person_ would_ say."

Hajime wasn't sure what to say to that, so he didn't say anything. Despite earlier joking, Tachibana still made the hairs at the back of his neck tingle with warning and Hajime was not about to push what little esteem the taller boy did or did not have for him any farther. He and Tachibana could prove useful to one another, but Hajime Oda was not in habit of trusting those around him. Especially when the 'those' in question referred to a sharp toothed boy who'd managed to lay him out in one punch.

"You finished with that?"

Hajime blinked out of his thoughts, mentally berating himself for spacing out in front of Tachibana. The light blue haired boy nodded his head towards the riceball still hanging limply in his cupped hands, a question in his dark eyes as they flicked from Hajime's face to the food.

'No,' Hajime thought defensively.

"Yeah," he said instead.

"Thanks," Tachibana grinned and downed the half-eaten riceball in one gulp, licking at his lips with a satisfied smile.

Hajime Oda watched his taller classmate and pondered whether or not he had just made the best decision of his life or biggest mistake of his life.

….

True to his word by the end of the day, Oki could and did recite every single name listed in Class C's registry both vocally and with ink and then finally Transformation Jutsu. The two latter tasks proved more difficult due to her already sore and bruising left arm, but she was loathe to even acknowledge the searing ache, certain that when the quietest hiss of discomfort would alert a knowing malicious smirk from Mr Anzai.

Oki had been somewhat excited about seeing Class A file out, fervently interested in measuring these so-called superior students. Unfortunately a girl named Nami had kept the class waiting another hour as she struggled to correctly recall Genjiro Noba's first name. The majority of the children in Oki's class did not possess second names; a trait which made the task all the more simple. But then again Oki allowed that with Mr Anzai screaming down at you, you'd likely forget your_ own_ name never mind Genjiro Noba's.

As payment for Nami's failure (and following panic attack) Mr Anzai ordered them all behind for laps in the courtyard where simple mathematical problems were called out and expected to be answered; five more laps for every incorrect answer. If the morning hadn't made it clear enough then by the time dark was already beginning to seep into the courtyard and Mr Anzai _finally_ relented to allow them to go, the whole class was in unanimous agreement that their teacher was a demon sent from hell to personally make their life miserable.

Oki Tachibana, however sore and sweaty she felt by the end of the school day was feeling accomplished despite it all. Working had kept her mind distracted from other darker musings, and she managed to achieve every goal she'd been given. Not only had she proven her strength to her fellow classmates but she'd also earned herself hopefully the first ally of many. She wasn't accustomed to having people on her side but Kenki, and although she wasn't entirely approving of the cunning gleam in Hajime Oda's eye at least here at the Academy she'd never have to limit herself around her peers. It felt like a whole month of Nishihama time had passed in the space of a day here in Kirigakure. She stepped out into the noise and sodden claustrophobia of the Kirigakure streets with the blood singing in her veins.

The sensation of her empty stomach cramping painfully tight, distracted Oki from her moment of euphoria and pride. It would be dinner time now in the musty, little house in Nishihama. The thought brought a fierce, longing pang that Oki only just managed to dislodge with another wave of hunger. She looked up at the blinking lights of corner shops and seedy restaurants, seeming more surreal when viewed through the sudden curtain of rain. It slid from roofs in great, grey sluices and trickled from the lips of overhangs in thin fingers of grey. Moisture catching on her lashes and tapping its fingers against her skin in little icy bullets, Oki ducked under the arms of one gesticulating man and onto the canopy of storefront porches. She was used to these sudden bursts of vicious rain. It had been overhanging all day, and more than likely the same the next; perpetual rainclouds hanging over the head of Kirigakure.

She didn't mind the cold or the rain in the least; heat-like a full belly-made her feel uncomfortable and idle. Still, the porch she'd darted onto was filling fast and Oki was struggling to wheeze through the breathing mass of damp coats and towards the door of the General Store. Eventually an alteration between two men fighting over an umbrella gave her the space she needed to slip into the store, and Oki stood there on in the entrance for a while squishing in her wet sandals and shedding raindrops like autumn leaves.

There was a counter jammed up in the corner closest to the door and against a window. A little, hunched old man was smoking on something that smelt woody and old, one wrinkled little arm lying against the window sill as his bespectacled eyes passively watched the on-going spat just outside. The store looked smaller inside than out, the three rows of shelves stuffed to bursting with little jars and boxes and papers, all disorganised and cluttered. Oki frowned at the mess, darted one cautious look towards the root-like head of the old man and journeyed on through the smog of his cigarette fermenting the cramped space.

She had no money. And she was as unwilling to beg for charity as she was likely to receive any. If she wanted to eat, she'd have to steal something. After a moment of further dripping onto the linoleum tiles, Oki finally decided on the row of shelves furthest from the elder's post. It was the most conspicuous choice, but Oki calculated that from there it'd take the old man longer to climb down from his stool than it would for her to make it to the door.

She eyed the tins of sardines and packets of dried rice. A second of hesitation, a moment of moral wavering before another hunger pang spurred her hand forward. Oki grabbed both the tin and the packet before stuffing them into her pants. They were followed by three packets of crisps in one pocket while another packet of rice and a jar of preservative occupied the other. Finally Oki eyed the hard loafs of bread, cast one last glance at the old man, then slung two loaves over her shoulder and pivoted to make a dash for the door.

A low rumbling noise halted her.

Oki froze, her mind taking a good few seconds to attach the threatening, throaty noise with that of a dog growling. There, tensed and snarling at her was a pig-faced canine with tattered ears and small, stocky legs. The mongrel's flaxen coat was patchy, areas around its stubbed tail and behind the drooping ears tufty with moulting hair dislodged by regular petting.

"You ain't getting past Taro there, without paying," Oki slowly glanced up from the dog to find the old man still seated and frowning deeply at her, "So, kid, what's it gonna be? You paying for those sardines tucked down yer pants or am I gonna have to sic Taro on you?"

Oki didn't even think, wasn't even aware she was moving until the jar of preservative had smashed into the floor at the dog's paws. But then again, in her efforts to see the next day she'd avoided actually thinking about what she was doing as often as possible. Its howls and whines followed her as she sprinted for the door, skidding momentarily on the smear of jam before bolting outside. The fight was still continuing when she flung herself into the noise and rain of the world outside the dingy store, spectators growing in numbers as they called out encouragements to one side or the other.

She squeezed through the cheering crowd, all sound overlaid with the relentless drive of rain and damp, breathing bodies. Oki shouldered one man aside with her sore arm before gasping out into a little circle of space outside the onlookers. Then all hell broke loose. The panicked condemnations of the shop keeper brought the crowd searching around for the thief (and apparent thrower-of-jars-at-dogs) milling between their number, and Oki didn't have the opportunity to catch her breath before hands were grasping toward her. One hand smothered her face, pulling it back in the crowd's direction until Oki bit down hard on his fingers with her sharp teeth, the tugging desisting entirely when she tasted the copper of blood on her tongue. She barrelled forward, batting one startled shopper aside with a loaf of bread. Feet pounded and reverberated along the wooden planks of the walkway, matching the tempo of her heartbeat in her throat as she skidded sharply into an alleyway.

Another right, then a left then a left again but still the calls were echoing along the walls. Oki's heart felt like it was going to explode in her chest, everything in her mind but that cold determination from before, veering wildly about in panic.

"Here!"

Oki fumbled as a hand shot out of the darkness and yanked her in. She was roughly repositioned into a crouch while another calloused hand clamped over her mouth. There were no questions about whom or why as the adrenaline surged then abated when the crowd passed. Instead Oki felt suspended by the hard drumming of her heartbeat and the rain, caught in this little bubble of darkness and the warmth of another human being at her back. They remained enclosed in that quiet corner long after the shouts had faded, and then and only then did the hand slowly peel away from her mouth.

Oki instantly launched herself away, fingers scrabbling in the dirt for any dropped spoils and eyes intensely scanning the darkness behind her. She could see nothing but the tiny glimmer of light reflecting off the pupils of another's eyes, hear nothing but the steady breaths misting with the cold weather. Still, Oki felt strange, maybe even vulnerable. For a moment she'd felt safe as the danger passed and she could feel another heartbeat pounding in concord with her own. It had reminded her of those warm nights spent huddling with Kenzo and Kenki as the storms raged outside or watching the early morning mist rise about their boat on those Nishihama mornings. Oki had not felt safe since entering Kirigakure, stronger at times and weaker at others. Confused, in awe, determined or vindicated and even threatened, all these emotions had bolted through her system like hot flashes but never…_safe_.

It was only how suddenly alien that previously familiar emotion felt, which kept Oki scouring the darkness rather than darting away. Something moved in the cranny of the alleyway and Oki immediately tensed then scowled.

"Jeez, calm down would ya?" the voice sounded as another body scrabbled out the darkness, "I wouldn't bother helping if I was gonna just attack ya anyway."

The boy was short but then again _everyone_ around her age seemed short to Oki. His face was anything but inviting, all hard-eyes and hard edges and a thin mouth that seemed far more adjusted to frowning than smiling. His body was wiry and compact, neither out rightly skinny nor strong just an odd blend of the two qualities. Despite the rain the spiky crown of the boy's short hair was still stubbornly sticking up in all directions, it only looked darker when compared against the greyish tone of his skin and the eyes. Although his hair and shoulders were soaked through, the lower half of his black shirt and his shorts were relatively dry; clearly the boy had_somewhere_ to go. She glared. He matched Oki's own undaunted stare, completely unfazed by her superior height advantage. She wasn't entirely sure what to do with that, and like most aspects of her life Oki felt more comfortable when people could be neatly organised.

The boy had aided her. And even though she was inexperienced with_ receiving_ aid never mind _appreciating_ it, the significance of his intervention wasn't entirely lost on her. On the other hand, everything in the boy's body language was aggressive from the furrowed eyebrows to the visibly coiled muscles in his legs.

"So," Oki crossed her arms over her chest, tucking the battered bread under her elbow as she did so, "whatcha want for it?"

The boy eyed her bounty with an unapologetic considering frown. When he spoke next Oki noticed the sharp points of his teeth jutting from behind those thin lips, "half of what ya got there."

Oki snorted, "get lost. I almost got beaten up gettin' all this, ya think I'm just gonna hand half over when I dunno when I get some more again."

The boy's eyes narrowed dangerously, "I could just beat ya up now and_ take_ it."

Oki took a step forward, threat radiating in every inch of her posture as she further illustrated the height difference between them both, "Oh yeah? Think ya could?"

"Yeah," the boy snarled, "I think I could."

They stayed like that for several minutes, silently weighing each other up like two stags debating the charge. Neither was intimidated by the other, although the boy had to crane his neck slightly to match Oki's glare. The bread was going soggy under Oki's arm, crumbling apart from a combination of the still pouring rain and her own arms tightening across her chest. Without warning the ridiculousness of the moment caught Oki unawares. Each corner of her lips began twitching as a laugh bubbled up in her throat. They were both wet, both hungry and in Oki's case winded and sore from a day's excursions. Without a doubt both children made a pitiful sight but nonetheless they were attempting to face one another down as if they were legendary rivals on the cusp of another epic battle.

"The hell ya laughin' at?" the boy raged as Oki finally gave in, "Ya think I'm some kinda joke!"

She didn't reply, having to grasp her belly which only made the tin of sardines in her pants clink and consequently making her laugh harder.

"Hey!" the boy kicked furiously out at her ankles, Oki narrowly dodging the attack, "I'm talkin' to ya, ugly! The hell ya laughin' at?"

"Alright, alright, sheesh," Oki wiped at her eyes, "calm down will ya?"

"_I_ ain't the one laughin' when nothing's_ funny_!" the boy thundered back but relented his attack nonetheless.

Oki nodded her head as she straightened up, assessing the boy with a sideways look and a lingering smile on her lips. It'd been a long day, she was too tired and hungry to bother fighting over some soggy bread and pant-warmed sardines; but she was equally unwilling to hand over the fruits of her labour. From the mulish look in the boy's eyes, he wasn't exactly content to allow her to slip off either.

"I think we can come to a comprise," Oki mused, "ya okay with that?"

"Depends what it is," the boy's tone and expression was cautious but attentive nonetheless.

"We share the food," Oki began, "if ya share wherever you're stayin' tonight. I don't wanna sleep in some alleyway again."

"How do ya know _this_ isn't where I sleep?" the boy crossed his arms and nodded bluntly at the alleyway they were standing in.

"Yer hair's wet but most of ya clothes are dry," Oki smirked, feeling somewhat smug as the boy's eyes widened then narrowed.

"Shit," he muttered to himself before glaring hard at her again. Whatever thought process was going through his head, it was only betrayed by a constant fierce scowl. He eyed her up and down twice, eyed the now dripping bread and the alleyway as a whole, and then finally matched her own impatient stare.

"Alright," he snarled, "follow me."

Immediately the boy began to slink through the winding alleyways with a precision and knowledge Oki found enviable.

He paused to throw her a filthy look, "just don't try anything funny."

Oki had to wonder why everyone in Kirigakure seemed to suspect her of 'trying anything'.

…

The boy's home perfectly matched the mental image Oki had conjured on her journey there. He had scaled a stack of empty crates at the rear of a corrugated warehouse, before kicking at a loose plank of rotting wood and crouching along a narrow vent. Oki followed his silhouette through the dark, the sound of the rain muffled by the cold, grey stone at either side of her outstretched hands. There was a 'whump' ahead of her as the boy dropped from view at the mouth of the vent.

Oki quickly clambered after him, not keen on the boy growing wise to the situation and taking advantage of her cramped position in the vent. What she found on the other side was run-down but not entirely dilapidated. It was enclosed from whatever rooms lay beyond by some hastily done brickwork in what had once been open doorways, and if she strained her ears over the drumming of the rain she swore she could hear a family sitting down to a meal on the other side. The floor of the single room was tatami mats, and a tattered futon jammed up into one corner. A window high up on the curve of the outer wall was vertically sliced off from halfway down by the ceiling above, but provided the bare space with blue-tinted light from outside. There were no toilets, or bedrooms or bathrooms; just this thin strip of clearly forgotten space.

The boy eyed her with a look that was half uncomfortable and half challenging. Simultaneously insecure and proud of this little bolthole he'd carved out for himself. It smelt of sweat and the outside noises seemed to ricochet around the walls, but it was also clean and open and Oki found it infinitely more welcoming than the cold, hard floors of the alleyway last night.

"Where'd ya get a place like this?" Oki grinned, removing her sandals and wiggling her wet toes on the tatami mats.

"None of ya business," the boy retorted absently, as if it were a custom ingrained rather than a conscious response.

She snorted and it only earned her another glare.

"What crawled up yer ass and died?" she smirked, "we had a deal so there's no point ya gettin' all shirty with me when _you_ agreed to it too."

"Might have done," the boy shrugged, arms crossed and head turned stubbornly away, "But I aint seen none of yer mouldy old bread or whatever was clankin' around in yer pants yet, have I?"

Oki shrugged. He had a fair point there, and she was in an infinitely better mood now that the prospect of a warm bed was secured. With upmost care Oki began removing her plunder and placing it on the floor, while the boy meticulously reattached the plank he'd dislodged earlier. She beamed proudly, preening her proverbial feathers and puffing her chest, as the boy returned to list through her stack with an expression that was grudgingly impressed.

"Alright, dig in," the boy's grubby fingers instantly started tearing at a packet of rice.

Oki slapped his hands away, "the hell are ya doin'? We gotta cook it first!"

He grew in a breath, glaring harder than ever as his bottom lip stuck out obstinately, "I'm hungry!"

"Yeah, and do ya want the rice to blow up in your belly and explode ya!" Oki struggled to free the rice packet from his grasp.

He finally gave away and Oki huffed in victory. She glanced up to see the boy's expression was once again cagey. For someone with such an expressive face and body language, to Oki the boy only ever seemed to cycle between wary and livid.

"Really?" he muttered, "that can really happen?"

"Yeah," Oki rolled her eyes, "so have ya got anything to cook it with?"

"Hang on a sec," the boy grumbled.

He rose from where he'd been kneeling over the packets and tins and cans, crossed to the square edge of the inner wall before running his bitten fingernails over the smooth surface. With a grunt of triumph he hooked his fingers into a crevice Oki had previously missed entirely and removed a square portion of the plaster. Underneath was a treasure trove of knickknacks and essentials. Most of what she could see had practical uses, balls of twine, small knives and camping equipment; others such as wadded pieces of paper and cartoon key rings appeared to have no place among the rest of the pragmatic belongings.

Curiosity had her following him, attempting to lean over his shoulder and peek inside until another vicious glare had her pausing. Now aware of the eyes on him, the boy quickly grabbed a small portable barbeque tray and a box of matches before rushing to replace the cover of the hidey-hole.

Of course Oki wasn't the best had acknowledging hints that hindered her questions, "what's all that stuff in there?"

"None of your business," once again the response was immediate and instinctive.

"Where'd ya get it from?" Oki continued as he came to sit cross-legged from her.

He plonked the grill down between them, roughly shoving the matchbox at her chest as he spoke, "just cook the damn food, would ya?"

Oki took the matches but eyed him speculatively, "why don't you?"

The boy said nothing, only narrowed his eyes at her further.

"Ya don't know how to, do ya?" Oki continued, giving him a stern once-over.

The boy's jaw tightened and just when Oki thought he was going to launch himself at her, he snapped his head to the side and kept his gaze there. The faint tinge of pink across his one visible cheekbone was almost hidden in the semi-darkness of the room.

"Yeah, well..._you_ didn't even know that ya shouldn't try pickin' stuff up at Old Man Hakaru's shop," he muttered savagely, "every dumbass in Kirigakure knows that old codger's a nasty bastard that'll sic that fat, old mutt on anyone who looks at 'im funny."

Oki scowled but kept her mouth shut despite the blow to her pride. She started the fire and collected rainwater in a tin jug the boy shoved into her hands when requested. Four sardines cooking on two skewers and the rice bubbling away, the atmosphere in the room settled to the sound of the rain outside and the fire spitting between them. It was done in under half an hour, Oki distributed the food while the boy watched her suspiciously. It looked as though he was desperate for something to pick at, but once again that grudgingly impressed expression crossed his face and she grinned smugly in response. Oki took the moment of respite for what it was, an opportunity to allow the hectic events of her day to sink into the skin of her bones. She was lost in her own thoughts, shifting between the open disdain of Mr Anzai, to the sound of her fist smacking against Hajime Oda's face and then finally pin wheeling towards another fire that had signalled the end of a home that suddenly felt so very far away and growing fainter. She curled her knees in closer, resting her chin between them and wrapping her bruised arms over them.

"Hey," the boy called and Oki blinked from where she'd been lost in the flames.

"What?" she questioned without either malice or gentleness.

"What's ya name?" he asked, attention just as unrepentant and candid.

"Oki Tachibana," she answered, "What's yours?"

"Zabuza Momochi."

**A/N: **

**Okay so the rating went up in this chapter for obvious language and violence. I don't think I could realistically keep it at a T considering how much later violence will go on, but I hope that hasn't put anyone off it is the Bloody Mist after all. In regards to the swearing in this, I'm just trying to make Kirigakrue a much harsher environment than Konohagakure; in the Leaf they tend to keep their nastiness hidden or at least romanticised (a sweeping statement that of course doesn't apply to everything) while Mist I imagine aren't too fussed about glamorising it for their kiddies. The separation of the learning groups comes into play for that infamous graduation ceremony where the groups will be further divided; otherwise I can't help but just see the entire thing as a massive waste of prospective troops on Kiri's behalf. **

**Oh, and Hajime refers to Oki as a boy because she looks like a boy and since I'm treating this like they're speaking English (instead of embarrassing myself again with incorrect Japanese terms) most of the class is convinced Oki's a guy. Short hair, strong jaw, androgynous features with her height, and I guess it's an easy mistake to make. Zabuza is deliberately OOC right now because he's a kid, I can't have realistically expected him to have stayed exactly the same from the age of eight to twenty-something; but hopefully there's still enough future Zabuza in there to make him recognisable. **

**Freddie4153: XD I'm keeping that in mind, in fact the vast majority of the Seven Swordsmen (if not all but I don't think Raiga counts and I'm not sure about Kisame and Mangetsu) have fruit themed surnames. In fact because Oki's last name was derived from the Tachibana oranges I was seriously debating having her hair bright orange for ages until I finally decided light blue was better. Thanks for reading and taking the time to review :]**

**SadisticAvacado: Yep, Oki got bitch-slapped by life pretty hard last chapter but at least she seems to be outwardly finding her feet a bit here XD On Kenki and Kenzo…er, well they will pop up again but that's all I'm going to say ;)**

**HUGE thanks to everyone who's reading, favourited and followed this :D**


	7. 7: Class is in session

**A/N: Just a heads-up. This chapter includes bullying and although I've changed this to M rated, if you think that the bullying scenes may trigger any bad memories for you please skip to the bold dividers which should look like this:**

**…****.**

**…****.**

**…****.**

**To avoid any unpleasantness. The events aren't anything too horrible but they will be loosely relayed (just the outcome not a blow-by-blow) in Zabuza's POV so you won't miss anything major if you do choose to skip it :]**

Class is in session.

When Oki woke, that long awaited moment of disorientation had arrived. Delayed though the reaction may be, she had power-housed through the previous day only accepting what had happened to her rather than shifting deeper into the actual events. In the space of a few weeks Oki had…killed her father, moved to Kirigakure and enrolled in the Shinobi Academy there. She wasn't entirely sure what she was doing here and what she _would_ do, only some vague but desperate goal to continue to grow, to live, keeping her moving. And it seemed as though that _was_ the only option open to her. Looking too deeply at things only brought headaches and heartaches so Oki had been devoutly developing the art of dodging the mental spiral. Although this sparse moment of waking offered her that breather to right her feet on the ground again, the world was still hurtling forwards outside that window and it would wait for no one, not even Oki Tachibana.

Something stirred in the mess of thin, sweat-stinking blankets and only then did Oki pin-point the source of her sudden stunted contemplation. She'd slept as she'd used to, with her fists balled up along the line of someone's skinny spine and her breath puffing into the cold night air in tempo with another's. Groggily blinking at the boy still sleeping on the ratty futon, it was Zabuza not Kenki. It seemed even that had changed; the expression no longer gentle worry but tense with some fearful anger, the black hair short and more erratic with sleep rather than light blue, even the complexion no longer the same olive tone as hers but greyish and pale. Zabuza Momochi was not Kenki Tachibana, and regardless for a lack of fault on his behalf for a moment Oki felt nothing but stinging bitterness for the boy.

She carefully pulled herself from the futon, hoping to provide herself with a distraction. With as little sound as possible she relit the tiny grill, the smell of cooked sardines from last night fermenting the air closer to the ceiling. Oki tore off a hunk of bread from the loaf, trying to make the piece appear as slice like as possible before warming it over the fire. The weather outside was predictably wet and grey, the mist rising in great swirling patterns from the pavement below. Oki collected the tin jug, smoothed chakra over her feet then scaled the short distance up the wall to the window. Edging the jug out to collect raindrops, Oki crossed her arms over the window ledge as she watched the dawning sunlight glow from behind the blues, blacks and greys of gathering storm clouds. Kirigakure was beautiful on mornings such as these, far more beautiful than anything Oki Tachibana had seen before.

The intense focus she was scanning the scenery with was, however, cut short by the smell of something burning. Oki cursed and scrambled back down, now full jug of rainwater clenched between her palms. The toast was at least salvageable. She scarfed it down while debating whether or not to leave the boy some. In the end she decided to cook him some. She'd never been one for consideration and they had agreed to a fair deal so she owed him nothing, but those rare and very tiny acts of kindness made Oki feel somewhat more human. It didn't look as though she would gain many opportunities to indulge the strange urge again, so Oki took it while she could. Placing the toast on the side of the futon she had previously occupied, she downed her cup of heated water then scrambled up the wall and finally out the window.

There were no milling crowds outside the Academy. Those arriving early streamed immediately inside, excited conservation or no. Despite her hasty escape yesterday the Kirigakure Academy had been exceptionally easy to find; just look for the second tallest building against the skyline. A low ponytail of brunette hair and an almost comically undersized raincoat stuck out from the river of arriving pupils, a little blob of green in a sea of greys and blues.

"Hey!" Oki called, "Hajime!"

The boy in question stiffened before pivoting on his heel and blinking at Oki with two thin, green eyes. She jogged to catch up, oblivious or uncaring to the rumbles of students who had been jostled about by her arrival.

"Er…hi, Tachibana," Hajime Oda recovered quickly, shoulders hunching and hands shoved into his pockets, "what's up?"

"Not much. You?" Oki shrugged.

"Yeah, can't complain I guess," Hajime smiled wryly to himself and huffed a single chuckle.

At that a thought occurred to Oki. She turned to her companion with a renewed interest that made the boy distinctly uncomfortable, "Hey Hajime, where do ya live anyways?"

Hajime reacted with an exaggerated wince, "what did I say about being _creepy_, Tachibana?"

"I don't get how that's creepy," Oki replied with obvious confusion, "I was just askin' wher-"

"Haijime!"

Both heads snapped up towards a skinny, blonde-haired girl with a distinctly mouse-like appearance. She floundered under Oki's uncompromising stare but after hesitating in the flow of human traffic for a few minutes longer (minutes that Oki spent impatiently watching the other students ascend the first staircase) the girl scuttled forward.

"Er…Hajime-er," she began, her eyes flicking from the floor to Oki's increasingly irritated expression, "there's….hmm…"

"What is it?" Oki finally sighed with exasperation.

"I'm Sanae. I'm in the same group as you both and I live in the same orphanage as Hajime," the girl barrelled through the information in a single panicked breath, "I need to talk to Hajime about something," she mumbled then shouted quite violently (enough so to make both Oki and Hajime blink and take an unconscious backward step), "IT'S REALLY SERIOUS!"

"….wow," Hajime breathed.

Oki frowned, she'd picked up on the girl's unknowing forfeiture of Hajime's abode at least but little else of what she'd said had interested her. The girl couldn't meet Oki's eyes, Sanae's gaze glued to tiles between her wafer-thin slipper shoes and hands twisting painfully tight in the front of her dress. She looked embarrassed or guilty, but Oki didn't know this Sanae well enough to be concerned with either possibility. Oki turned round to continue with the current of bodies around her, giving Hajime a pointed look as she did so.

"Ya better listen to whatever she's gotta say, it sounds _really serious_," Oki smirked before throwing a wave back at Hajime, "see ya in class!"

"Yeah!" Hajime called back, "See you in a sec!"

Oki caught the words 'Akira' and 'unfair' in the frantic garble of speech Sanae immediately began pouring over Hajime, before it too was swallowed in the noise of the crowd. Oki kept her eyes on the Clan Kids during her twisting ascent towards the first year Academy student's floor. She observed the way they spoke, the way they walked, the way they looked, every last detail to the very slight respectful nods they gave the members of staff and the soft hush their more expensive sandals made against the concrete floors; trying to decipher what exact quality or combination of qualities they possessed that made them immediately stick out from the others. She began breaching onto the notion that it was their confidence and sense of identity, forced or otherwise onto them by the Clan environment. Oki debated cornering one (a tricky task considering they seemed to move in packs) at a later date and just out right asking them, but then she was turning into her classroom and all future plans of attack were put on hold.

It was quiet in the room. The sudden swelling of tension and jerking halt of whispers immediately set Oki's nerves on edge. She scanned the small cluster of students huddled together on the training mats, each pair of eyes watching her in fearful anticipation of…_something_. The group only knotted tighter as she passed. The beady-eyed boy (Akira, she remembered them all after Mr Anzai's exercises) from that first day was leaning against an absent Mr Anzai's desk, the bespectacled boy (Tetsu) and another with dark shaggy hair (Itaru) at each of his shoulders. The grin he sent Oki when her eyes met his was sharp and eager.

"Yo, Tachibana," he called, "just in time!"

Oki kept moving, her eyes on him as her tense legs waded towards one of the front row desks.

"Yeah?" she replied, as nonplussed as she could manage while her gut twisted in conjunction to the strain threading through the very air in the classroom.

"Yeah," Akira's grin got sharper, "we was just wondering what to do to pay back that asshole, Mr Anzai, when Itaru here," he nodded to the boy, one of Itaru's blue eyes peering out at Oki through a mane of shaggy black hair, "says you went after him during them later trails. Says you can do tags."

"I can, yeah," Oki frowned, eyes darting from Akira to Itaru.

With the desk she'd chosen yesterday she was closer to all three boys than she would have ideally liked, towering over the trio with merely a single step between her chest and theirs. She paused, expression stern and trying to pour out as much threat as she possibly could with her stiff body language. The admiration she'd glimpsed yesterday from the rest of her classmates wouldn't let her take her seat and ignore the mocking undertones of Akira's speech. She recoiled at the very notion of that brief glimpse of respect souring towards scorn for such an act of cowardice.

"_Well_," Akira drew out the word, "how's about you just write one o'them on his desk now, blow the fucker up next time he starts yellin' at us, huh?"

Akira reached behind him and rolled a pencil about between his fat fingers and the wooden surface of the desk. The noise was grating in the heavy pressure in the room, sand pouring from the bottle-necked belly of an hourglass as they waited for Oki's answer.

"I ain't interested," Oki replied curtly.

Akira smirked at her a moment more and then, as if that malicious smile had been some kind of cue, the boy with shaggy hair (Itaru) and his glasses wearing companion (Tetsu) had launched her forward into the desk. The movement was that sudden and the impact her cheek slapping against the unforgiving surface that shocking, that it took a moment for Oki to even_ realise_ what had happened never mind _react._ A moment was all it took, by the time Oki began squirming Akira's bulk was pressing down at her back. His greater weight kept her pinned as one meaty hand anchored Oki's left arm to the wood while the other fumbled to force the pencil into her free hand.

She gritted her teeth, legs thrashing and sweat forming on her brow as a wave of panic threaded through her nerves. She _hated_ being trapped, hated the sweaty meat of Akira pushing down on her body and hated the frightened little ball of anxiety gathering in her chest.

"Hey, I think gay boy here likes this!" Akira cheered out to the class, "You queer, Tachibana? Huh, you like being bent over Teacher's desk, you sick perv?"

Tears sprang to her eyes, the humiliation of the positon stinging, but Oki forced them back; focusing instead on the anger and screaming indignation. She growled, the sound sounding menacing even in her own ears.

"You gonna write that seal for us then, eh _Tachibana_?" Akira's breath stank like crap as he levelled his grin right by her face.

The blatant disrespect, the degradation and rage that bubbled up in Oki's head like hot water from a geyser sharpened to a thin point. She picked up the pencil, her hands and legs suddenly steady as cold instinct swept through her and bleached the mire of emotions cool. Akira grinned. The smile died when Oki stabbed the pencil through the middle of the back of his other hand, the lead point snapping even as Oki twisted it farther until it was half-buried in Akira's skin.

The boy's howl filled the room, the weight abruptly freeing her body as the ten year old reeled backwards, gripping his hand to his chest and screaming for all he was worth. Oki immediately moved to distance herself from the desk but a burst of pain and white light at the back of her skull had her head knocking against it again. Still dizzy, Oki managed to slide her body against the desk's edge to avoid the next blow.

Tetsu (glasses boy) swung for her again in a wide arch and only practice with evading such movements with Teacher again and again and again had her ducking down in time. Moving on a pure, fresh instinct (and dear heaven, did that feel _good_ and **_right_** to Oki) she sprinted towards the boy's unguarded stomach. Her arms locked around his skinny hips as momentum sent both of them barrelling forward towards the front row desk Oki had previously claimed. The chair behind the desk skidded back with the force of impact, screeching on the concrete floor. Tetsu's back cracked against the metal rim of the desk and drove the air from his lungs in a pained gasp. Oki meanwhile was cushioned from the impact, hurling all her weight into the boy's middle bent over the desk she dug her shoulder right up into the boy's ribcage, winding him further.

The sound of footsteps behind her had the euphoric combination of adrenaline and heartbeat jack-hammering harder. Oki reached, curling her fingers around the other end of the desk and planting her feet either side of the edge a stunned Tetsu was gasping on, to propel herself over the surface. Akira's bulk slammed against Tetsu (winding the latter boy further and earning an incoherent animalistic noise from the other). Both boys stumbled back from the impact and Oki took the moment to wedge her shoulder under her side of the desk and upturn the entire thing onto them both.

Metal legs sticking awkwardly up in the air, two boys trapped underneath and Oki squatted on the top (usually the underside) of the desk, she scanned her eyes about for the last of Akira's cronies. Another jab of pain in her head alerted her to his presence, her head jerking forward and a deafening ringing reverberating between her ears. Her face slammed against one of the metal legs, blood thickly lining her mouth as she felt one of her back teeth crack under impact. Itaru (the shaggy-haired boy) raised his leg-snarling and glowering at Oki through one visible eye-and stamped it down on her prone fingers while she was still shaking the stupor from his last kick. It hurt like hell and Oki shrieked, but at least it was sharp enough to clear the last of the cotton from her head.

Oki curled both arms around the table leg she'd collided with, pulling the cool metal to her chest, then righting her legs under her. Itaru lifted a leg to mount the table. Oki snarled and whipped her own leg out to cut into the bend at the back of his knee. She immediately pulled her leg back waiting as Itaru lost all semblance of balance before slashing that same leg through the air, driving it into Itaru's stomach and consequently the boy into the ground. It had been a favourite move of hers when training with Teacher; sharp, precise and showy, clearly even more striking (in both appearance and effectivity) in a combat setting.

Itaru didn't get up, the boys under the table had stilled and Oki still crouched there and gripped the leg as the adrenaline bled from her body.

She was shaking.

She was panting.

She was grinning.

Her muscles felt like jelly, accustomed to constant exercise and daily bouts with Teacher's clone, but neither compared to the actual impact of her skin slamming against her opponent's. She felt truly _alive_ as she stood, truly slotted into her very _own_ time and space within the fabric of the world. And she had been_victorious_! Oki's grin grew a little disbelieving at first and then wholly confident and triumphant while she towered over Akira and his friends defeated bodies.

She'd done that, screeching and scrapping into a win through nothing but her own skills and indomitable determination. She felt like she fit_ right_ in her skin. Oki lifted a still shaking fist to wipe the back against the warm trickle at the corner of her mouth. She had just frowned at the sight of her own blood and transferred that same disgruntled look to the unconscious bodies when the classroom door slammed open.

"TACHIBANA!" Hajime's voice was reedy and tight with panic, "You need to get outta there! Sanae just said that-"

Oki glanced up, only now registering that Hajime's wide-eyes were mirrored by the children in the classroom and the others clustered in the corridor at his back. They stared at her then Akira as if she was something fantastical, the legendary samurai slaying the eight-headed serpent. And honestly, Oki completely enjoyed it.

Attempting nonchalance even though her thighs and hands were still shaking erratically, Oki grinned.

"Hey, Hajime," she greeted roughly, her smile replied to with an incredulous laugh from Hajime Oda.

**…****..**

**…**

**…**

Zabuza Momochi had not had a warm breakfast for so long, that he hadn't cared to remember exactly when the last time had been. It was this abbreviation to his scattered but daily schedule that had Zabuza frowning around the tip of a nail as he secured another roof tile in place.

The mist curled around the ankles of the Koyanagi family's small, single-story house; twisting its way along the curved edges of the circular buildings looming either side and slinking along the thin, black strip of electrical wire between the two behemoths. The lanterns hanging from the wire had been strung up and left many years ago; the colourful sugar paper faded, in some cases ripped and trailing the breeze in thin wispy strips. Zabuza yanked another rotten tile from the roof and promptly began slotting a new one from the stack into the vacant space.

He didn't typically do such things. Zabuza commonly subsisted on whatever he could steal from one day to the next. But pickings had been desperately thin lately with the war draining Kirigakure of its resources and he'd been forced into taking actions that would not usually occur to him.

Such as allowing someone into his bolt-hole in exchange for food.

Zabuza's scowl deepened. The Koyanagi's were a different matter entirely to this 'Oki Tachibana' (if that even is the girl's _real_ name, a sour voice inside Zabuza muttered). He'd been offered this kind of dog's bodywork when he'd first ran from home, over a year ago now, back when he had been equally at a loss as to what to do with himself as he'd been simultaneously terrified and liberated.

But _now_, now this kind of labour felt beneath Zabuza. Not for the act itself but for the patronising way Mrs Koyanagi would treat him like a puppy begging for a treat.

"Do I _look_ like a damn puppy?" Zabuza murmured venomously to himself.

It was in Zabuza's nature to see the worst in people, so accustomed to those ugly things people did or the ugly things people thought being brought to his attention in such gloriously hideous detail that there was little else he saw in their behaviour. He was perhaps (even at the age of eight) _too _perceptive for his own piece of mind, seeing the self-serving machinations behind the veil of good-natured smiles. Or just jaded and paranoid, that was always a possibility that Zabuza just as promptly denied (if he _was just_ jaded and paranoid, the same actions he professed to see were the cause and in that case he'd be right on both accounts anyway).

Even here Mr and Mrs Koyanagi may_ seem_ ideal, with their neatly kept lawn and the little crimson wrapped chocolates they distributed at Festivals. But Zabuza's eyes only ever saw the imperfections they tried to cover with their neighbourly behaviour. Mr Koyanagi was a 'retired' Jounin (no _actually_ retired Shinobi spent that often on 'business trips' evidently he was still working but had to be hush-hush about the affair for reasons beyond Zabuza). And Mrs Koyanagi often found younger…looser men to keep her company those lonely times he was away. Zabuza knew that Mr Koyanagi was not oblivious to these indiscretions, had seen the way his eyes aligned on such and such's pants or shoes forgotten after a night of taboo. But he said nothing, he sat down to dinner with his wife and they smiled at one another and were kind and polite, and made a grand show of attempting to convince anyone who glanced into their lives (including themselves) that they were one of those up-standing, blissfully happy families.

Sometimes Zabuza wished he could say that it disgusted him or that he was above it all, but in the end the only difference between him and the Koyanagi's was his openness about those ugly parts of himself. People used you and hurt you to relieve their own ends, and although he _hated_ it he committed those very same actions time and time again.

That was the part that had Zabuza mulling over Oki Tachibana's sudden intrusion into his sphere. Was she out to use him, or was there a possibility he could use her? It was a risky business. Zabuza was not at all convinced that the potential benefits outweighed the potential hazards. He'd become rather adept at weighing up the collective worth of those around him, a skill that was vital when one confrontation could swipe his entire memory from the map of the world.

She was clearly quick if she could get away from that old shopkeeper's mutt, she could cook and she hadn't been stupid enough to try and steal anything from him while he was asleep. But she clearly wasn't shy about throwing her weight around. While Zabuza didn't even blink about taking on opponents twice his weight and height, he didn't want anyone thinking they could just boss him around when they hadn't earned any right to.

Plus…he just didn't want her there. Zabuza didn't want anyone in that little space he'd toiled to make safe for himself. If not there, where else in Kirigakure could he just curl up and lick his wounds? Weakness was not something you _ever _wanted _anyone_ here to be privy to, and Zabuza fully intended to keep it that way. But sometimes…sometimes he hated it but he couldn't help feeling that old weakness.

"Oh! Hey, haven't seen you in a while! Are you fixing the roof?"

Zabuza popped his head over the edge of the roof to spy the Koyanagi's son (Tadao) beaming up at him, clean clothed and white smiled. He wore that same benevolent pity around Zabuza that Mrs Koyanagi did, and it made his skin itch. He had his own pride, it may not be cut from the same template as the Koyanagi's but that didn't mean he in anyway tolerated the way the boy and his mother disregarded it.

Zabuza only scowled, jerking his head back to continue with his work, "none of ya business."

The laugh that drifted up to the roof was good-natured, "Oh c'mon, you're on _my_ roof. Course it's my business."

Zabuza popped his head over the grey shingles again just so Tadao Koyanagi could be subjected to the full force of his glare.

The boy flinched slightly despite himself (a reaction that made Zabuza grin unashamedly) before regaining his composure. He smiled again and shook his head at Zabuza like he was a naughty toddler, "you're such a grumpy old man, I was_ only_ saying hello."

"That's it," Zabuza muttered, shimming himself off the roof and landing with a heavy thud on the evenly trimmed lawn below, "call me an elder while ya speak to me like I'm a kid."

Tadao continued to ignore him, reaching out to ruffle Zabuza's hair with a hand the boy sharply slapped away. No, he was not one of those children romanticised about in tales of senior and junior comradery, he was not secretly thrilled by Tadao's actions and just too shy to admit it. If Tadao Koyanagi dare tried to completely demean Zabuza and disregard his personal space again, Zabuza _was_ to knee Tadao right in the balls and damn the much-needed money. There was only so much he could take and his already low patience was dwindling by the second.

"Anyway," Tadao grinned as Zabuza's scowl got fouler by the second, "I've got some real good gossip from the Academy. You'll like this one!"

Ah, there it was. Zabuza had been waiting for 'the Academy' to turn up. Ever since he had (mistakenly) displayed an open interest in enrolling into the Kirigakure Academy as soon as he was able, Tadao had not failed to bring up the Academy in each and every conversation they were forced into having with each other. He wasn't sure if Tadao was looking for hero-worship (he was not getting it, Tadao got in on his father's reputation not his _own _skills) or a subtle way of smearing the fact that he was a second year at the Academy in Zabuza's face (which was the reaction he was getting, regardless of his motives).

Still, despite himself, Zabuza could not help the pique of interest.

"Yeah," he voiced as he wiped the moss from the tiles off his shorts, "what is it?"

"Well, y'know a whole new batch of first years started yesterday because, remember, I'm a second year now-"

"How could I forget, asshole? Ya tell me _every time_ I'm stuck 'ere," Zabuza muttered. Something Tadao studiously appeared deaf to.

"-well apparently, some kids in Class 1C took a disliking to one of the new kids. _Apparently_ the boy's not a native of Kirigakure, probably shipped over from one of those poor, minor villages scattered around our Village, anyway that's not important-" Tadao smiled and waved his hands as if to dispel his ramblings.

Zabuza was not so amused, "then why are ya wasting my time tellin' me then?"

"-What _is_ important," here Tadao's smile widened, "is that these kids just didn't like something about him, so they decided to try and beat him up this morning before class, y'know scare him off."

"That all?" Zabuza growled flatly, "Kids get the ever-living shit kicked outta them every day, ain't hardly news."

Tadao's smile give unbelievingly larger and Zabuza gave his expression another cautious eye, perfectly aware that nothing good ever followed whenever someone gave you a smile like the cat who'd eaten the canary. The sun was setting behind them; dying the mist and the narrow streets it shrouded a muted orange colour. Tadao's perfect, white teeth (not like the sharp, pointed ends of Zabuza's) were eerily bright when reflecting the last thin beams breaking through temperamental storm clouds and bouncing off puddles.

"That's where you're wrong," Tadao breathed in, the air moist with the gathering storm, "the kid apparently beat them _all._"

"What?" Zabuza frowned.

"Yeah,_ I _heard there was like twenty of them by the end and the kid took every last one out," Tadao continued, trying to appear impressive and wise as he relayed the gossip, "I even heard he killed one. With a_chair_ leg! Punched it-" at this Tadao mimed striking an invisible opponent with an equally invisible weapon, "-right through his chest! The heart came out the other side and everything! Then Daisuke said that the kid twisted this other kid's head off, like this, see," at this Tadao began twisting his imaginary opponent's head off like a bottle cap; an action promptly halted by the irate voice of his mother.

"Tadao Koyanagi!" Mrs Koyanagi stood in the doorway, hands on hips and warm light flooding from behind her onto the pathway, "are you filling that boy's head with gruesome stories again?"

"Er, no mom, I was just…." Tadao trailed off.

Zabuza ignored the familial scene, marching up to the woman and sticking his hand out.

"Pay, please," he voiced gruffly.

The woman smiled and reached into her pocket, depositing the coins into Zabuza's open grubby palm before giving her son a stern eye over Zabuza's head. He wasn't bothered that the Koyanagi's hadn't expended the energy to remember his name over the year he'd known them. He didn't like the idea of them attempting to treat him anymore personally than they did. Maybe they viewed him as a charity case they could brag to their friends about aiding, and Zabuza chaffed at the notion. Refusing to relinquish his name felt like a victory on his pride's account every time he thought about it.

Zabuza shoved his pay into his pocket and turned to march off. He hesitated a step when passing Tadao, and finally shifted his head to address the boy. He was used to Tadao over embellishing this piece of gossip or that rumour about the Academy, but something about that recent one kept banging about in Zabuza's head. He admired bravery. He admired anyone who was willing to at least put up a fight against those who appeared much bigger and stronger. It echoed with painful reverberations about his own circumstances that led him to him living on the streets of Kirigakure. Despite all his years beating that cynicism into his bones, Zabuza still held (and hopefully always would, a small part of him wished) a child-like fascination for those who rushed undaunted against impossible odds.

He didn't believe Tadao's ridiculous story about some insane berserker popping off human limbs left and right, but there had to be some parcel of truth to give the tall story momentum.

"Hey Tadao," Zabuza eyed the taller boy, "what'd ya say the kid's name was again?"

"Nope, I didn't," Tadao frowned in thought, "Truth is I don't know his name. But I did see them in the dining hall. He was a lanky kid; skinny too, had light blue hair and sharp teeth. To be honest he did look like he was capable of-"

"Tadao!" Mrs Koyanagi scolded and her son murmured a sorry before shuffling into the house with his head hung low.

Zabuza stayed rooted where he was for a moment. A lanky kid with sharp teeth and light blue hair? He'd only seen one child who'd fit the age requirement and description given, and for once in Zabuza's life he could not believe his luck. _If _Oki Tachibana _was_ the same kid Tadao had been gushing over then it meant she was a student at the Academy. If she was a student it meant she was privy to everything they learned there, and taking into account her request last night she'd be dependent on him.

The possible benefits in allowing Oki Tachibana to frequent his hideout had just grown exceptionally. Starting next year, he may not have the money or prior training of the other prospective students _but_ he might just have a year's head start on them. Any advantage wasn't worth passing up, and it didn't look like he'd ever get another just falling into his lap.

There was a small smile playing on Zabuza's lips as he weaved his way back home.

….

Oki Tachibana was not a 'pretty' girl.

You couldn't call Oki Tachibana an 'ugly' girl either or even plain. She was….for lack of a better word, _handsome_. Her facial features too boyish and strong-boned to be 'pretty' and too sharp and symmetrical to be called 'ugly' either. Not that Zabuza Momochi had ever been an eight year old who found the value in 'pretty' girls. It was merely an observation made much more apparent by the yellowing purple bruises at the corner of her mouth and the crown of her head.

"So that's the offer?" Oki sustained eye contact with Zabuza even as she prodded and poked on the great egg-like swelling at the corner of her lips.

"Yeah, that's the offer," Zabuza nodded as he leaned against the wall behind him and crossed his arms to further outline the finality of the proposed contract.

If Zabuza had had any doubts about Oki Tachibana being the mystery 'boy' (oh, and how that gender misconception had made Zabuza chuckle to himself for minutes on end) they were promptly dispelled when he first saw the state of her. He wasn't sure exactly how she'd managed to relocate his bolt-hole_ and_ arrive before him, but it was suffice to say Zabuza was not happy with either fact. He'd returned to find the girl shifting through his thin rice paper comics (collections of propaganda but entertaining nonetheless, that needed constant care to keep them from moulding in Kirigakure's damp climate) as brazen as can be. It wasn't as if she'd set out to purposely annoy Zabuza, it was just the unapologetic confidence of the act that irritated him to such a high degree. It was the 'I want to do this and if you get upset it's your own damn problem' attitude to the whole gesture.

Despite her bruises and visibly sore body-Oki having to just prop herself up against the wall-one look at her posture and Zabuza just _knew_ her head had likely grown several sizes in the day. They'd eaten, Oki delighting in Zabuza's account of Tadao's reiteration of her fight while she went into a blow-by-blow account of the real thing. He hadn't had company over a meal in over year but found that being rusty at conversation that was non-threatening needn't have been a concern. He hadn't been concerned (Zabuza genuinely could not have cared less how Oki found his table manners); wanted or unwanted Oki had provided ample entertainment.

She beamed around her bruises as she went into great detail about every single moment of her victory, attempting at first to add gesticulations until she winced and decided to avoid anything more than necessary movement. She was critical in her re-telling, tearing apart both her own and the other three boy's missteps with an attention for detail that had Zabuza squirming slightly. He couldn't say he was relishing the thought of letting a judgemental perfectionist in his company, but then she'd tell him about a blow someone had landed and he'd be in two-minds about the entire decision again.

When night had closed in outside and the sole illumination was the tiny glow the coals of the barbeque tray gave, Zabuza had reached a verdict on the matter. Finally he'd just stated his offer and damned the consequences one way or another.

"Alright," Oki hummed, thinking it over further while Zabuza's eye twitched with impatience.

"This could be kinda handy," Oki frowned, "I'm gonna need someone to spar with outside Academy hours _and_ a place to stay. So it's sorta a win-win there. But then again, am I gonna have time to go over everything with ya?"

It wasn't a question she wanted Zabuza to answer so he only scowled as he waited.

"What's in it for ya?" Oki finally asked him, candid and unapologetic as always.

"I get to learn what ya learnin' in the Academy," Zabuza answered without preamble, "I'm gonna go next year and without money and stuff, I'm gonna need some other way to give me an edge."

"Fair enough," Oki shrugged.

Her hand shot out and Zabuza immediately tensed before releasing that she was waiting for a handshake. The smirk curling at the corners of her lips had Zabuza frowning again.

"Alright deal," he muttered before forcing eye-contact again and raising his voice, "but first we're gonna need some house rules."

"Number one," he lifted one finger with more violence than was really warranted, "keep ya hands off my shit."

"I hope ya talkin' bout your stuff and not ya literal-"

"Yeah, I'm talkin' bout my stuff," Zabuza interrupted before Oki could finish that sentence, smirking at the peeved expression she gave at being cut off, "Number two, if ya find food bring it back. If we're both stayin' here we've gotta share the food, alright?"

"Long as ya keep to it too," she replied in a challenging tone that had Zabuza's face blooming in anger.

"Hell do ya think I am?" Zabuza snapped, "_I _made the damn rule so course I'm gonna keep to it. Why don't_you_ make sure ya keep to it!"

"I will!" Oki bit back.

"Fine!"

"Good!"

Zabuza huffed a furious breath, trying to smother the urge to upend her out the window with promises of what waiting the long game with his brusque houseguest could mean. It was clear that Oki was trying to keep her cool also, her teeth chewing furiously at her cheek and her eyes narrowed on some unmarked space on the wall above Zabuza's head. Silence stretched between them, the night outside alive with the sounds of drunks calling to one another and garish women's laughter. Zabuza kept his eyes on the ceiling watching the flashes of yellow, red, green and predominately blue blink in and out of existence with accordance the few neon signs outside. They moved in nonsense blurring patterns, ghosts of night-time life in Kirigakure.

"Alright," Oki's voice brought his attention back to her, and this time _she_ was forcing their eyes to meet, "but if ya get to make rules so do I, fair?"

"It's **my** house," Zabuza scowled mulishly.

"So I'll find somewhere else then," came her frank reply.

He mulled it over, frowning to himself as he weighed the pros and cons and how much he was willing to sacrifice for that edge he needed.

"Alright," he muttered in consent.

"We gotta keep sleeping in the same futon," her answer was without hesitation.

"Why?" Zabuza frowned and raised a brow.

In this Oki was also unapologetic, seemingly oblivious to how embarrassing such a candid answer truly was, "'cause I ain't used to sleepin' on my own, and I slept better last night."

"Gay," Zabuza smirked, fighting the laughter that was already bubbling in his shoulders, "man that's so…sappy."

"It ain't," Oki frowned, "it's normal if ya ain't used to it, plus I agreed to _your_ stupid rules."

"So…" she thrust a hand at him, blushing harder and becoming more frustrated the longer he laughed, "Stop laughing! Shake on it! It's only fair."

Zabuza eyed the proffered hand, grin still wide and eyebrow still raised, "I ain't shaking on a rule like _that_."

Oki pulled in another breath, stead faced she repeated, "Your business is _your_ business, my business is _my _business. I made that rule for my own reasons, now **shake**!"

At this Zabuza did give the offer more serious thought. Something told him that she wouldn't agree to his terms if he didn't provide a likewise pact to hers. Stubborn as he was, Zabuza didn't see the point in denying such a stupid request. Pragmatically it would be warmer when the winter moths moved into almost hostile conditions. At least her little outburst proved that (at the moment) Oki wasn't interested in playing nursemaid or leader with Zabuza, two roles every other street kid he'd even debated teaming up with had leapt to. Comfortable stranger was, by far, the most Zabuza could ever want from Oki Tachibana. She was still watching him, dark eyes flicking over his face in that eerily observant manner of hers.

With a smirk still twitching on his lips, he grasped her hand and shook.

"Alright," he sighed, "what ya gonna teach me?"

She frowned in consideration, looking about her unresponsive limbs as if the answer to her issue was hidden beneath one of her limp forearms.

Zabuza scowled," Ya can't even get up, can ya?"

"I can get up!" she snapped back.

The amount of strain it took her to stand on her wobbling legs was almost as frustrating for Zabuza as it clearly was to her. Both of them never said a word, avoiding each other's eyes and scowling at her body's exhausted state. Her shadow made a great hunched, spindly shape across the corner of the room, both the fingertips of Oki and the silhouette joined together where she leaned against the wall.

"Mr," she swallowed a grunt, "Mr Anza said fighting was no excuse for bein' tired. Had to do the laps with everyone else, which _was_ fair. Just I've seized up now…."

"I ain't interested in excuses," Zabuza muttered, illogically embarrassed on her behalf.

"They ain't excuses," she defended in a flat, stern tone before mumbling, "ain't no point in 'em; don't change anything anyway."

A sigh and Oki Tachibana slid down the wall to rest messily on the futon. Her legs akimbo among the tattered blankets, she allowed her body to flop over and breathed in the earthy scent of sweat and musk on the blankets.

"Can't do it today," was her final muffled ultimatum.

Zabuza decided that he'd had enough too. He'd got what he wanted, and he was too tired at that moment to try pushing it any farther. Oki Tachibana was hard work and for Zabuza it had been a long day of hard work. He counted his victories with one last grin and satisfied nod. Wiggling the rain filled jug from the windowsill he crossed over to the breathing lump of blankets. Roughly slapping the tatty material aside, he pressed the cool metal of the tin jug into Oki's hand. He'd had a fist in his face enough times to know that her gums more than likely feel like they're trying to curl into themselves, the rainwater's ice cold with the frosty weather and should numb the discomfort at least. She's no use to him with a bloodied mouth.

"Swirl ya mouth out in this," he muttered, navigating over her body to claim his spot on the futon against the wall. If he was going to have to share, he was making damn sure that he had the warmest place.

"What for?" came the blunt reply.

Zabuza sighed and rolled his eyes, "Ya tooth."

He could hear the water threaded between her teeth and sloshing from one cheek to another, the sound of her spitting out the blood from her mouth almost making him jump (before he admonished himself for being so stupid of course).

"Thanks," the response was instinctive but Zabuza still stiffened.

He couldn't remember the last time someone had said that to him. He couldn't remember anyone _ever _saying that to him. And Oki Tachibana had just flung it out there as if it meant nothing. He wanted to turn around and plant his fist in her ear. That she would give away her gratitude with such ease just lowered the value of the entire thing. He wasn't sure if he even wanted anyone's thanks, wasn't even sure what to do with it and it vexed him that the girl would just thrust something like that at him when he hadn't even expended the energy to deserve it.

"Whatever," he muttered.

Frowning at the wall, Zabuza watched the shadows play out on the grey space until he finally succumbed to sleep.

…..

The next morning, Oki found the Academy a habitat altered entirely. The grey walls were still the same; the unforgiving concrete floors, intrusive overhead lights and narrow stairwells were all the same. The training mats are still squashed together near the doorway and the metal desks are as unappealing as they had been the two previous days.

Still, the shift in the Academy's air that morning tingled over her skin. Maybe not it's appearance but the very _feel_ of the place towards her. Where it had been apathetic before, indifferently counting her among the drones of her fellow students, Oki cannot help indulging the fancy that it had now been waiting for her arrival. Most eyes are on her as she makes her way to and then inside Class 1C's designated room on the third floor. She stands a little straighter, pulls her head higher and wears the bruises marring her face as if they were badges of honour. She may not have set out to do so or intentionally draw the interest of the Academy and its people, but she can't at all say she isn't enjoying the limelight.

**It feels good**.

It feels good to be admired and pointed out for all the_ right_ reasons, her differences counted as positives in her favour rather than the negatives they had been in Nishihama. She almost wants to stop them and gather them about her before showcasing what else she can do. That's when Oki realises that maybe acknowledgement from her peers_could_ perhaps have equal weight to her own. She had never sought it before, knowing full well (and often reminded) that her competitive nature tended to only alienate her further from the other children of the fishing village. But here? Here she is _commended_ for it. Encouraged and revered for the almost obsessive intensity she dedicates to her work, that had before been only viewed as unnecessary.

Several older students she doesn't know-had never even _seen_ before-wave and smile at her like they were old friends. A great throng of boys and girls from class 1B throng around her with salutations and excited chatter. Three girls from her own class, two from 1B and one more from 2C in the year above press meagre food offerings into her hands with admiring exclamations of how 'cool' she is. At first, the sudden rush of attention from all these strangers makes her head spin. But the pride, that strong, powerful glow in her chest gleaming up at all their respect makes her wish again that it would _never stop spinning_.

It continues throughout that Wednesday, then Thursday, Friday and even Saturday. Her hand is the first shooting up at every question and her body is the first to volunteer itself for any activity. Mr Anzai seems to be both irritated and reluctantly grateful for enthusiasm. Due to Teacher's training, while not the strongest or fastest or most intelligent of the students, she is the most knowledgeable about combat and Shinobi subjects. Mr Anzai continued to be as brutally strict as he had that first day. But he also equally loathed waiting for a correct answer. A trait often highlighted by whatever object at hand he chose to hurl at some babbling, terrified student.

"It's great," Hajime gushed through a mouthful of his riceball, "everyone moves for you in the corridor, no one ever tries to steal your food or piss in your hair."

Oki gives the shorter boy a questioning frown at that last one.

"Er, don't worry about it," Hajime shrugs before merrily consuming the rest of his food.

It was Saturday, and both he and Oki are propped up against what has become their usual spot in the Academy dining hall. There are more groups sitting around where they eat now, inching closer day by day and sometimes calling them into their conversations. Although she enjoys the esteem; Oki is not entirely sure how to people-please as Hajime Oda does and therefore leaves much of that work to him. She's still blunt in conversation-sometimes bordering on cruel with her frank comments-and a little too intense for others to relax around.

Hajime however weaves through them all with one frivolous comment or another, mollifying and redirecting any tension. The boy (she had noticed) had seemed almost unwilling to be associated with Oki at first. But as her reputation grew so did his attachment to her. She couldn't begrudge him for that, but she couldn't trust him for it either. Nevertheless a partner was necessary, and Hajime Oda fulfilled his role to the best of his capabilities (fickle loyalties and cunning eyes aside).

"I won't," Oki replied shortly, smirking to herself at his subtle glare.

"Oh yeah, and the great Oki Tachibana has never had a little piss shower like the rest of us mere mortals," Hajime was far too careful to let his tone become outright mocking.

Oki shrugged, "Nope, can't say I have had a 'piss shower'. Why would anyone wanna piss on ya anyway?"

"Dunno," Hajime frowned, "Maybe for the kicks? I mean it's not like an orphan's going to go crying to mommy and daddy about it anyway."

She sighed. These moments of transparent humour that were so obviously self-pitying from Hajime tended to grate on her.

"I guess so," she answered without preamble, "hey Hajime?"

"Yeah?" he replied distractedly as he licked at the stray rice left on his fingertips.

"Why are ya here anyway?" Oki turned to fully face him as she spoke.

While Oki attended every activity within class (then reviewed it later at night when relaying her lesson to Zabuza Momochi) with an serious that made it look as though they were life or death situations; Hajime only ever looked bored and was perfectly content to doze along with average results. Oki could not understand it. And she didn't really have the abilities to or an interest in doing so.

"What do you mean?" Hajime was instantly on guard.

"Here," she nodded at the room as a whole, "at the Academy. Ya never look bothered in lessons."

"Not everyone can be like _you_, Tachibana," Hajime muttered before recovering with a smile, "I'm in the Academy for the food, the bed and…the_babes_."

He stressed the last word, eyes round and excited.

"Babes?" Oki frowned, raising a brow, "the hell ya talking about now, Hajime?"

"A man's number one hobby should be _bird-_watching," Hajime declared stoutly before his face slid into a lecherous grin, "_if ya know whatta I mean."_

Oki stared at him a moment longer before snorting a laugh, "Ya nuts."

"Nutty for a perfect pair of lips, probably," Hajime shrugged.

"Ya wouldn't even know what to do with them," Oki grinned and shook her head, "You're only like, what eight?"

"I'm nine like you," Hajime replied completely undeterred and unoffended, "And trust me, I'd know what to do. Some guys at the Orphanage showed me one of their…."he glanced surreptitiously from side to side, "porno mags. It was so cool! This woman had boobs bigger than your head!"

"There's something _seriously_ wrong with ya," Oki snorted turning back to her meal.

Hajime was quiet awhile, deciding to drop the subject altogether for the moment since Oki hadn't shown any interest in it. She watched the rest of the students milling about with one another or the few loners among their number concentrating solely on their food. Rain was driving against shutters, rattling them in their wooden frames. It was now the dead of Winter in Kirigakure, and Oki had been intrigued with the hand-knit mittens and scarfs some of the Group B and A students wore to combat the cold. Winter was much more hospitable in Kirigakure than it had been in Nishihama, the great industrial machinery and press of numerous warm bodies heating the air compared to the tiny fires her home village had used to ward off the chill. Then again those early morning jogging sessions Mr Anzai insisted on never failed to turn her lips blue.

"What about you?" Hajime interrupted her thoughts, "I guess you're probably aiming for the number one spot in our year, right?"

Oki's ears pricked up, "number one spot?"

"Yeah," Hajime appeared simultaneously amused and confused that she hadn't heard it before, "the number one spot. We all get class rankings, regardless of our group, and then they stick 'em all on this screen in the Sparring Hall on the second level. Didn't they explain this all to you on the Academy Induction day?"

"I was evaluated the day 'fore I started," Oki frowned, watching the boy's face intently, "So I never had chance to."

"Oh," Hajime smirked, "I _was _wondering why you hadn't banged on about it yet."

"….And this board, it shows which one of us is the best outta the _whole_ year, huh?" Oki questioned.

"It does," Hajime grinned at the burst of stimulation almost visibly sparking from one of Oki's eye to the other.

"Take me to it," Oki demands in a deadly serious tone and already hauling Hajime to his feet in her excitement.

Hajime's voice rebounds and seeps out into every corner of the Sparring Hall. It sounded thin and loud as it rolled from one space on the curved wall to another, intrusive in the emptiness of the place. Something about the Sparring Hall with its spectator's seats behind thin iron bars and the lack of any personality in the arena at the centre of the room plays at the very corners of her eyes. She cannot help the hairs that rise at the back of her neck, the notions of phantom screams faded with time and washed away by the Winter winds. She can smell something rusty and stale on the air that makes gut roll unconsciously.

Hajime explains that this is a room that a group has to book out in advance, much like the swimming pool in the basement of the Academy that Mr Anzai has threatened to drown them all in. They _already _have training mats and room plenty enough for it, she frowns.

"Why're there seats?" she points out at the rising benches cut into stone wall and outside the room, ringing round and looking in through the metal bars that cover the upper half the room's walls. She can't see a way in, no doors to lead from the middle arena to the outer circle of seats.

"I dunno," Hajime shrugged, "Must be for demonstrations or something?"

"Demonstrations ya can't get out of?" Oki questions sharply, "and why ain't there no mats? We got mats when we spar. The room don't smell right neither."

Hajime's shrug is far more pointed this time, "Who_ cares_? I thought you wanted to see this board, anyway."

Oki shakes it off and moves over to inspect the three electronic screens nailed into one wall. The first screen is blank. The second and third display slots numbered from one to five and each followed by a single name and the class its owner belongs to.

"How come that one's off?" Oki nods towards the first.

"They used to have more than two years at the Academy, the war started and all the able bodied Shinobi were called out. Four years became three, three became two," Hajime sighed, bitterness thinly veiled again, "now they cram everything into only two years before shipping us out to the frontlines. Shit, sometimes don't it feel like in Kirigakure everyone's just on one massive conveyor belt?"

"No," Oki replied steady and confident. Because it hadn't occurred to her and he had asked.

Hajime stared at her a good while before snorting, "Yeah, maybe it's different for the Tachibana's in the world. It'd be so much easier if the rest of us could just not think about this stuff, and be ignorantly happy enough just accepting stuff and too damn shallow to look at what's beneath the surface."

It's the first time he's let those darker thoughts out in front of her and Hajime is instantly nervous, awaiting her reaction with dread. Oki's eyes are hard.

"Well, I ain't the one moping," Oki shrugs insensitively, "so I wonder who's wastin' their time now."

She doesn't speak about the little voice that tells her she doesn't deserve to lament whatever fate she's tied herself to after what _she's _done. She may be forthright but that doesn't mean Oki spouts every little thing that pops into her head. And some things…some thoughts belong only to yourself.

"Whatever," Hajime shrugs, the tension draining from his body, "I guess you'll be gunning for the number five spot anyway, there'll be new gossip next week and if you don't want everyone to just forget about you you'll need to keep your name bouncing around."

"No, not number five," Oki grins as she presses her finger against the very top of the screen, "Number one!"

"You're in C Group," Hajime drawls, "the Clan Kids keep the number one spot."

Oh and how that just makes the challenge all the _more_ appetising to Oki. A challenge like that is worthy enough to keep her driving forward, keep her growing and _winning_ without any question of a doubt. For a moment she's almost begging for it, for the opportunity to wrestle it down and take everything that number one spot has to offer.

"Ya watch," she replies, all grin and sparkling eyes, "end of this year, it's gonna be my name at the top of that board."

…..

Winter suits Kirigakure, she decides.

The patchwork of frost creeping like ivy up the walls of the building provides decoration to otherwise bland surface. The colder rain only makes the streets that much more interesting through the haze, although with the icy weather the skies have been persistently clearer and stark blue. If she squints, Oki can almost imagine that the mist is instead snow falling upwards and approve of how such a thing flatters the moments of surrealism in the Kirigakure streets.

Oki has the time and inclination to muse on the partnership of Kirigakure and Winter, because at that moment she is unsure what else to do with herself. For six days she had risen at six, began lessons at half-six, been dismissed at six in the afternoon and then painted out whatever equations or words with a wet finger they had learned that day to Zabuza while they ate their dinner.

She still doesn't like the boy, finds him illogically stubborn and standoffish. But she does enjoy further cementing what she had learnt by precise repetition. Zabuza, of course, isn't really necessary for that part. The audience is interchangeable to Oki, but at least for all Zabuza's confrontational nature he was an attentive learner.

However on the Sunday of that first week in Academy, Oki had arrived to find her classroom and the building itself largely uninhabited. Mr Anzai had been bent over his desk, furiously marking their written reports for spelling and grammar errors when she marched into the classroom. He frowned deeply at the interruption. Mr Anzai may care very little for the wellbeing of his students, but the task of training them was another matter. He took his mission very seriously.

"It's Sunday," had been his immediate reply, cutting Oki off as she opened her mouth to ask him where everyone was.

She frowned, still not understanding and attempted again when Mr Anzai abruptly interrupted her.

"No school," he growled, glaring at her now, "so fuck off."

Oki could take a hint.

Pulling herself up over the wooden crates that lead to their bolthole, Oki swung her body to the side and latched onto the wall with chakra lining her hands and knees. She liked to use that half-window, Zabuza claiming that cramped vent while he remained incapable of preforming the technique. Not that Oki had refused to teach him (only her knowledge of Exploding Tags had been guarded possessively) but because after one demonstration Zabuza had declared 'he could work out the rest himself'. Oki frowned at the memory. Needlessly _stubborn_.

"Why ain't ya at the Academy?"

Oki slips herself through the narrow window and lands with less grace than she would have liked. When she is balanced then and only then, does she turn to address Zabuza's scowl. Thus far they've managed to maintain their regard for one another as 'necessary pests'. Neither was too overjoyed with the countenance of their other 'houseguest', and conversation isn't initiated unless it's required.

The only time Zabuza Momochi and Oki Tachibana weren't internally displeased with the presence of the other, was during training. Oki's perfectionist nature and Zabuza's undaunted determination made the schooling far smoother than all their other interactions.

"It's closed," Oki muttered, "Mr Anzai told me to 'fuck off'."

Zabuza laughed to himself, before frowning as something occurred to him, "well, ya can't slob around here all day."

"I weren't gonna!" Oki snapped, "…I just ain't sure what to do now."

That threw Zabuza as much as it did Oki. The girl always seemed as though she was confident in having something to do, always seemed as though there was something she was _doing_. Or, he thought venomously, lecturing others about what _they_ were doing and how to do it right. Bloody perfectionist. They'd only known each other (in the loosest sense of the term) for a week, and still he knew to be stumped with the sight of an inactive Oki. Didn't mean he cared though.

"Whatever ya do, move," Zabuza shrugged, "I ain't workin' today so_ you_ can sit on your ass. Get some food or something, I dunno."

Oki didn't respond. Still staring at the opposite wall and frowning in thought.

Zabuza's face coloured with anger, "Are ya even listening to me!"

"Hey," Oki turned to him, "what work were ya talking about?"

And that was how Oki Tachibana found herself working on the Koyanagi family's roof on her day off. Zabuza was shuffling about the tiles like a little spider, efficient and focused on his task. Oki's progress was similarly quick, they both having decided to divvy up the work.

Mrs Koyanagi, Oki decided, was an idiot. She wasn't ungrateful for that since Oki was the one benefiting. Although there were two of them working on the roof, Zabuza and Oki were still only working on _one _roof but Mrs Koyanagi had somehow worked out that she needed to pay them _both _Zabuza's usual rate. She'd caught the barely-restrained irritation in Zabuza's eyes as she snorted with disbelief at the woman's deduction. Oki had only just started working more intimately with mathematics and even she could tell Mrs Koyanagi was_way_ off.

"Pass me that tile will ya?" Zabuza huffed, breath misting in the icy weather.

Oki nodded, and slid it over without breaking her concentration on the task at hand.

Another voice interrupted them moments later, "Hey! You guys!"

Hearing it, Zabuza immediately sat back on his haunches, groaned and rolled his eyes skyward. Oki curiously peeked her head in the direction of the voice and back to where Zabuza was scowling intently at the pale winter sky.

"Who's that?" Oki whispered as a ladder thunked against the edge of the roof.

"A total dickweed," Zabuza muttered almost appearing to forget who he was speaking to, and that he wasn't supposed to be friendly with them.

"Are you guys thirsty?" the voice called, sounding as if he were struggling up the ladder, "must be a lot of work for your tiny bodies! Don't worry I'm coming to the rescue with some nice, hot tea!"

Oki exchanged an incredibly bland look with Zabuza, "sounds it."

Zabuza began to heave another aggravated groan as the ladder jostled more erratically the farther Tadao Koyanagi ascends it, but then he catches something. Oki's hair is practically vibrant when backlit by the frost and grey walls of Kirigakure. It is not her appearance Zabuza is admiring, but the memory that comes with it. A memory of Tadao Koyanagi sounding equally fascinated and _fearful _with the story of a lanky kid with light blue hair.

The evil grin almost splits Zabuza's usually hard face, "Pssst! Oki!"

She turns to look at him, then half-smirks and half-frowns at the positively mischievous expression on his face. It both fitted and didn't. She had not seen it before but it was easy to imagine it there again now she had.

"What?" she replied through twitching lips. She couldn't help finding this drastic change in his open disdain infectious.

"Just sit tight and don't mess this up, alright?" Zabuza can't keep form watching the ladder with slightly sadistic glee.

"Me? Mess it up?" Oki snorted and rolled her eyes.

Zabuza looked as though he was about to say something else, but shushed her instead and diligently began to look busy as a tuft of mousy hair topped the roof edge. The boy appeared a year or two older than Oki, clean and fresh-faced with a huge smile that never quite reached his eyes.

"Hey, mom asked me to bring you two some tea," the boy jiggled the metal flask then turned to Oki with exaggerated surprise, "Oh, you've got a friend this time?"

Oki was highly unimpressed. The boy had been referring to them both as 'you_ two'_ since he exited his house. Her judgement was clearly plain on her face if the boy's taken-aback expression was any indication.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," Zabuza bent his face closer to the tiles to tiles to hide his grin, "Tadao Koyanagi meet Oki…_Tachibana_."

"T-Tachibana?" the boy's face paled and Oki's frown instantly sharpened. In short order Tadao squeaked (actually _squeaked_ at her), reared away from her and in his haste fell from the ladder. Zabuza and Oki shot forward, dangling their heads over the roof edge to watch Tadao untangle himself from a bush and hobble back inside as if soiled himself.

Neither moved even as the door closed then very slowly they turned their heads towards each other. Zabuza laughed in her face and Oki had to grip the edge of the roof to keep herself upright as her own shoulders shook with laughter. Noticing this and high on his earlier win; Zabuza hooked a hand around Oki's rear and upended her over the edge. She went ass over end, too shocked to manage a yelp as she thudded into the same leafy cushion as Tadao.

Oki shook the leaves out of her hair. The sound of Zabuza's laugh was huge; great barking laughter that she had never heard from him before. He was an insufferable old mule, trying to turn nearly everything into a fight and scowling at her when he wasn't. But…she had to admit, although rough that laugh was almost enough to cause some small swell of friendship. Oki grinned with the challenge as Zabuza flashed her his middle finger.

Planting her feet on the wall she launched herself up, gripped Zabuza's arm and dragged the startled boy to the ground with her. They had rough-housed in the bushes when Zabuza finally realised what had happened. Both acting their age for once as they alternated between snarls and chocking laughter. Oki managed to grip the boy into a headlock while he punched and kicked at her back. She hadn't play fought in so long, the seriousness of such things at the Academy sucking the fun out of it there and the children of Nishihama were too wary of how it could end to bother asking her there.

It was fun. Really fun. It was still competitive with both her and Zabuza grappling for superiority but just enough so for Oki to relax. It wasn't as if Zabuza would complain she was being too rough, or give up for a tactical retreat when it looked like things weren't in his favour. She could just let loose without concerning herself with being too hard or too soft or too messy.

"Ow!" she laughed, rubbing at her head as Zabuza whacked her with the metal flask.

He only grinned, cheeks rosy with a combination of exercise and cold weather. They both threw themselves down, exhausted and regaining their breath.

"That was actually kinda fun," Zabuza spoke between pants.

"Yeah," Oki nodded, "I thought ya were a stubborn old goat but I kinda enjoyed that."

Zabuza nodded until he caught her comparison and gave the blithely smiling Oki a hard look. She glanced back, grin only growing. Zabuza snorted with that odd half-grin on his lips again.

"But I dunno," Oki mused, "maybe you're alright, Momochi."

He glanced at her, annoyed and amused, **_"Maybe_** you're alright, Tachibana."

She wanted the last word but she couldn't think of what else to say. It had been a very brief moment but Oki felt as though something between them had shifted. She wouldn't rely on it, Zabuza being so volatile and herself often misunderstanding the intentions of those around her. But for once, Oki had felt like she was an _equal _with someone else.

In her life, she tended to view everyone as above or below her. She could be fond of someone without really expecting them to be on the same level; or hate someone she thought was above her. Zabuza didn't want to follow her and he didn't want to lead her either. He wanted neither sought her approval or demanded she seek his. Frowning at him in thought, she felt that whatever their gaps in skills or experience she could neither look up to or look down on Zabuza Momochi. She could hate him or like him, but not that. It was a new experience for her, feeling as though someone was running in time with her instead of streaming forward or lagging behind. He didn't have the same skills, and besides their shared ambitious and determined nature not the same qualities either. She knew barely anything about Zabuza Momochi, and even less of why that should even matter anything to her. All she knew with certainty was the way she reacted to him.

"Ah, my ass is wet now," Zabuza muttered viciously.

_And_ the moment was gone.

"Ya face is wet too," Oki smirked.

"What does that even _mean_?"

"'Cause I beat ya so hard! Ya gonna cry, poor baby!"

"I dunno, you tell me loser!"

**A/N:**

**So unsatisfied with this chapter -_- whatever I did it felt boring to me, but hopefully you enjoyed it anyway. I dunno, I thought my writing was off too although I really did enjoy writing the fight scenes :D Oki's so much more proactive than my other characters!**

**Reviewer replies:**

**Countenance: Thanks for the review and continued support! Much appreciated ;D**

**Freddie4153: XD not even sure how to reply to that, but thanks for the review!**

**SadisticAvocado: I'll have to keep up the work to earn that automatic praise, but I'll endeavour to try! I do honestly really look forward to your reviews every chapter :3 And yeah, it is mentioned in the chapter but Zabuza is a year younger than Oki and therefore hasn't entered the Academy at the moment, tbh I AM loving Oki's gender misconception thing especially because in my head all the girls in her class think of her as Kirigakure's Group 1C's answer to Sasuke Uchiha XD**

**World Aqua Marine: Thank you very much for that very kind review! And I'm basing Oki outside the storyline so it won't really interfere with the main plot, kinda like a spin-off or something.**

**THANKS for reading, following and favouriting! **


	8. 8: Nao

Nao.

The inhabitants of the Land of Water were a divided people. The borders of the Land were sewn together by a great body of sea that had collected many islands within its net. All were different but carried a similar thread, much like the same scene watched through the many colours of a kaleidoscope.

Oki Tachibana's year was no different.

The Third Shinobi war had driven many residents of these scattered islands towards Kirigakure, either searching for the safety or the relatively better future (through secure pay checks that were distributed to Kirigakure's soldiers) that the Shinobi Village promised. Others, like Oki in a regard, had been given little other choice when the ripples of the war had reached their homes. There were little among them who had not paid their price for that war in one way or another. With the sour situation of their present so clear in the mind of Kirigakure's people; it was little wonder that they yearned for Heroes, people they could heap promises onto for a better future.

Hajime Oda knew that. The boy had a skill for snaring those hidden desperations in the eyes of those around him, and could see the hopes of his fellow students' parents or carers were reflected in the eyes of their wards. Oki was unsure as to whether or not there had been an exact point in those first months in the Academy when Hajime Oda became her almost unofficial PR, or whether he'd slipped into the role bit by bit without her observant eyes noticing.

"See, you really need to go for a certain type of image," Hajime explained in same tones a salesman used to persuade those unsure customers of the effectivity of their latest scheme, "people have already been talking about you, but you need to make a clear picture in their heads of _who_ their talking about. Otherwise you'll just be 'that guy' and no one ever remembers the face or name of 'that guy'. You get me?"

Oki completed her Hare seal and began moving through the Hand signs all over again, keeping one eye on how many rotations she was in front of her classmates by. Without pausing or turning to visibly acknowledge the boy who sat next to her, she answered, "I'm listen'."

"You should be," Hajime smirked then glanced self-consciously to check whether he'd caused insult. He hadn't.

"So you've got to go for an image," he fumbled his Horse seal, cursed and started again from the beginning.

"Like what?"

"Like, y'know," Hajime blew breath from his mouth as he thought, "cute or scary or superhero or something. A character that people'll go 'yep, that's Oki Tachibana, right there'. No one wants to get behind someone who's _human_; you've got to be larger than life or something."

"But I_am_ human," Oki grunted, scowling at the clumsiness of her Ox Seal and restarting with renewed focus.

"No to these people…Or well you are _right now_ but if you become as popular as you want to be, you won't be," Hajime jumped as Mr Anzai set his blackboard eraser down with more force than was strictly necessary.

"Oda, Tachibana is there a problem or are you two deliberately trying to piss. Me. Off?" Group 1C's teacher glowered at the pair with enough malice to make anyone with a healthy amount of self-preservation skills toes curl.

Hajime wondered yet again why Tachibana was so adamant on sitting so close to the front.

"No sir," Oki replied.

"Sorry, sir," Hajime finished.

They waited awhile until Mr Anzai had ceased prolonging his threatening glare, and turned back to the board to finish the coded message he wanted the class to decipher. When he was certain it was safe, Hajime turned to his companion again.

"That's what you want right? To be top dog here and stuff?" Hajime whispered.

"I want…" Oki paused, turning the question over and over in her head with careful hands. She weighed and measured its implications, the immediate reply being evaluated again and again.

She wanted to live for another dawn as she had promised to Kenki. She wanted to see her family again, and sometimes she wanted to be stripped of all knowledge and returned to the innocent dreaming of those days. But those were things she _wanted_ and not what she could have. Her goals had to be a mixture of both, and even they were not as pale as just being able to wake the next day.

Times had changed since she'd come to Kirigakure and with it so had Oki's ambitions. She was confident enough within herself to want_ more_ again. She wanted to be _better_, and wanted the recognition of those around her for doing so. It wasn't for anything as noble as better to protect those around her or to make the world better; Oki simply wanted to progress by any means possible and she wanted that progression to be marked into the memories of those around her.

"I wanna be perfect," Oki voiced with absolute confidence, "and I want everyone to see it."

"So…"Hajime hummed as he thought, "Perfect in the Academy right now is number one on the Year Rankings," he frowned, "that's up to you. I can't help you with that one."

"And I guess number two would be popularity and _that_, Tachibana, I can help you with," Hajime grinned a vulpine smile.

"What's it to ya?" Oki frowned, finally glancing across at him, "What're ya getting out of this?"

"Protection," Hajime replied without missing a beat, "isn't that what everyone wants from their friends?"

Oki just continued to stare at him with those sharp eyes of hers; assessing, breaking Hajime Oda down into a list of movements and factors that would indicate one thing or another. Sometimes she looked at people and worried about whether she saw _them_ at all. Distant, like more scenery she had to pass through. She'd never relied on friends; she understood the usefulness of other people but she was never in partnership to them and never beholden to them. Not in the way Hajime seemed to be alluding to. Oki placed her palms against the cool metal of her desk and just looked at him.

"Plus it wouldn't hurt to be Oki Tachibana's best friend if he was the school's idol," Hajime's grin was once again clumsy and lecherous, "To the victors go the spoils right?"

"Tachibana!" Mr Anzai roared, "Have you got time to be talking?"

"Yes sir," Oki answered, "I've finished."

There was a quiet murmur in the back that Hajime surreptitiously monitored.

"All of them?" Mr Anzai eyed his tallest student with suspicious anger.

"Yes sir," Oki nodded.

"Alright…" Mr huffed before snapping, "do them again! I shouldn't have to tell any of you shitheads that!"

"Yes sir."

Oki reclining back into her chair, unaware until that moment that she had begun to rise into military attention with each commanding snarl Mr Anzai compounded into the room. She still wasn't relaxed. She was never relaxed in the Academy, nerves always strung out on fine spider web wires. But that was part of the thrill, exhausting as it may be. Confident but wary, driven but watchful, Oki needed to abide to these principles and damn any effects it was having on her body. It was holding out for the moment, and Oki revelled in the regard her classmates gave her too much to pay mind to any future issues the budding pressure may inflict.

"I've got it."

Oki flicked her eyes towards Hajime at his new announcement.

"Got what?" she questioned.

"The image," Hajime sighed, rolling his neck and cracking his fingers as he completed one rotation of seals and moved onto the next pattern, "I think you should try to project '_cool_'."

"_Cool_?" Oki smirked and furrowed her brows, "How exactly am I gonna go around 'projecting cool'?"

"Just trust me," Hajime flashed her one cunning smirk and nothing more was said that lesson.

….

Zabuza remained as perplexed with Hajime's scheme as Oki was. When talk of the lessons had turned empty, conversation over their meagre meal (and on some days, no meal at all) would always turn to the events of their days that were in some ways less informative and more so in others.

It had been slow progress, neither overly keen nor even interested in learning more about the other. But a stray muttered comment from Zabuza about war-gossip had had Oki sharp-eyed and eager to hear a recounting of the entire tale. Zabuza held some kind of fascination with hearing about the Academy, knowing that although infuriating in most other respects Oki's frank and detailed report was reliable at least. He wasn't a person accustomed to the presence of something reliable, save perhaps disappointment.

Oki had been equally as interested in hearing about the culture of Kirigakure, about the cheap theatre shows they put on or the fights that would break out or about which stall owners were more forgiving to thieves. Zabuza did not find her threatening as her classmates did, even those who professed to admire her were usually pulled in by some charm they found in her intimidating presence. Most of Zabuza's talk was rough, short and angry. Sometimes words just came machine-gunning out of his mouth as if he had forgotten her presence altogether, other times they were slow and cold, curling into the ears with each icy breath. But at least they were naked, uncensored and honest in their fury or annoyance or sense of ill-behaved glee.

When he was too far into whatever subject was bouncing between them, Zabuza would catch himself and stare at her over the barbeque tray (if they were eating) or over the pallid skin of his shoulder (if they were about to sleep). The look in his eyes were always the same when he regarded her in. They always seemed to hold an outspoken warning, 'don't you dare hate me, don't you dare like me'. And it only ever made Oki want to push harder into the different atmosphere that surrounded this boy, so unlike the desperation of the other children at the Academy.

"Cool?" Zabuza scowled and raised a brow incredulously, arms locked over his skinny chest and one heel tapping an impatient pattern into the concrete floor of their bolt-hole. It was out of pace with the gentle lulling of the rain, too fast, too angry.

The smoke from their meal of reheated takeaway was thick in Oki's noise, reminding her of blackened vegetables and the grease sliding from the noodles. She lowered her torso closer to the floor, fingers brushing her toes as she stretched her legs. She could feel the burn and loosening of her muscles, simultaneously cooling down after her and Zabuza's bout and reminding her of their fatigued presence. Mr Anzai had a medic perform a check-up on them all every three weeks. Their muscles were still growing, and the Academy staff were eager to avoid any lasting damage that could impact their Shinobi careers. The medic had a large mole on his chin and a disinterested demeanour, though his appearances had dwindled recently.

"Yeah, cool," Oki repeated, "Like calm, collected and that kinda stuff. Well that's what he said to me anyways?"

"And why do ya _care_?" Zabuza snorted, "As long as ya doing good there, what's it matter what they all think of ya?"

It didn't really. Oki and Zabuza were people so focused on their own direction that the opinions of others could be easily abandoned at the wayside of whatever path they were forging. To Oki it not matter _what_ they thought of her, only that they _did_ think of her. That she was not so easily forgettable and that her skills were not so easily overlooked. Whatever opinions such regard would arise in the people watching were their business and of no concern to Oki. But it was difficult to explain in words; especially when Zabuza was quicker to deride the emotions of others than to give himself opportunity to understand them.

"It's not like I care…" Oki began but trailed off, searching for the correct words.

Zabuza snorted, "sounds like ya care. And this 'Hajime' guy is just using ya so the other kids don't kick the shit outta the creep."

"I know that," Oki replied as evenly as she would state her name, "I ain't stupid."

"Then why're ya acting stupid!" Zabuza's tone was suddenly frustrated. His heel stopped tapping after his outburst then began again with renewed fervour, head mulishly turned away from her.

Oki laughed once, incredulous, "The hells got ya so wound up now?"

"Nothing," Zabuza snapped, "Shut up, none of ya business."

"Whatever," Oki shrugged, "do ya think I can do 'cool' then or not?"

"Don't even know what the hell that's supposed to mean," Zabuza muttered.

Oki laughed to herself and Zabuza glanced at her, the scowl smoothing as smugness eased in. Zabuza may be prickly but even _he_ was not immune to masculine pride.

"So? Do ya look at me and think 'cool'?" Oki gestured to herself.

Zabuza snorted and Oki scowled.

"Hey!" she snarled, "keep laughin' Zabuza and I'll throw ya outta the window when you're asleep."

"Oh, I'm so scared," Zabuza smirked.

"Ya should be," Oki warned, "I ain't a patient woman."

"Ya ain't even a woman," he snorted, "never seen women burp like _you_ do."

"Just means I'm hearty," Oki smirked, "_and _good at cookin'."

"That or ya got wind," Zabuza muttered.

"Don't even get me started on wind," Oki's smirk grew to challenging levels, "At least I don't have to worry 'bout freezing to death at night with_ you_ there."

"It's ya cooking!" Zabuza growled.

"Ya like my cooking," Oki nodded, looking smug, "Ya told me so."

"I never! Lair!" Zabuza snapped.

Zabuza flung one of his rice-paper comics at her head, which Oki ducked laughing as she went. It hit the wall behind her with a dry flutter of papers, before sliding like a wet peel and finally slumping to the floor.

"Ah!" Zabuza cried, suddenly scrambling in panic, "It ain't ripped is it?"

Oki frowned, plucking up the comic and carefully inspecting each page. The crudely drawn figures flashed in and out of existence in tempo with the neon flashing, a shinobi with cool eyes grappled with an eight-armed beast of Konohagakure on one page; his love interest murdered by a nefarious Iwagakure shinobi the next. Explosions and hive-minded Village loyalty painted through the medium of childish ideals and violence on each thin page.

"Nah," she murmured finally.

"It's your fat head that woulda broke that," Zabuza muttered.

"It ain't broken," Oki scowled before grinning, "and it's _your_ fat hands that threw it."

Anticipating-and somewhat looking forward to-another retort, Oki was confused by the silence that followed. Zabuza was once again frowning at the hunched shadows their forms made, resurrected by the rhythmic flashing of neon light advertisements or the swaying of lanterns in the grotty Kirigakure street outside. It was a habit he developed when thinking, keeping close eye on the shapes the light threw as if their shadows were going to detach from their bodies and wreak havoc on their former masters. The tiny one room of their bolt-hole was bare and creaking but annexed away all the same, only the window connecting Oki and Zabuza to the indigo mess of Kirigakure outside. She sighed, disappointed that her activity was ruined, and moved to stand as her eyes rested on the bed.

She often went to bed, exhausted in body but with her mind still whirring. Her mind would always keep flashing through how she could have accomplished this and that better, winding down its analysis of Oki's performance throughout the day. She used to dream of other things, the lights across the water or Kenki's gentle, supportive smile. Now she dreamed only of the many ways her body could yet be better improved. It was only when Zabuza's breath had slipped into an even lull that the chaotic barrage of critiques stopped. She could concentrate on the familiar sound of sleeping breaths in the dark, and allow that to ease her. She wasn't sure if it was comfort she was secretly holding onto or just remnants of the past that didn't make her gut clench with guilt. She didn't know if her drowsy mind knew it was Zabuza there or was imagining Kenki in his place. It didn't _really_ matter (although a part of her felt that perhaps it did), she slept and that was the only outcome that counted for anything.

"Oki," Zabuza mumbled and she paused from where she'd been about to tumble into the fusty sheets. The thin futon didn't offer much in the way of comfort but it called to her nonetheless. Sometimes it smelt of sweat to her, other times it smelt_human_; and now the inclination had taken root she was tempted to ignore Zabuza and wrap the tattered blankets about herself.

Instead she said, "What?"

"Ya actually want my advice?" Zabuza sounded confrontational again and doubtful of the sincerity of her request. He wore the type of expression that could easily make a big deal out of nothing just because he wanted there to be one. But Oki's eyes were sharper than that. They caught the nervous twisting of Zabuza's fingers like he was trying to wring out any insecurity from his body. She frowned, unsure what to do with a Zabuza who was nothing short of over-confident. In the end she decided to deal with it as she dealt with most people, bluntly, Zabuza was equal to Oki in some strange, unnamed way and she had no intention of tip-toeing around him now.

"I asked ya, didn't I?" Oki sighed shortly, "Shit, Zabuza I'm going to bed. Don't ask stupid questions."

He stared at her for another moment before shoving her the rest of the way into the bed. Oki's yell of protest was muffled on the scratchy material of their sheets, but Zabuza leapt over her and hunkered down in his spot before she could issue vengeful retaliation.

"One of these days, Momochi," she muttered, glaring at his back even as she brought her lax fists up to rest in the dip between his shoulder blades.

"I'm shaking, I'm shaking," Oki couldn't see his face but she definitely heard the smirk.

….

Oki stared at the accessory in Hajime's hand with as much lip-curled contempt as she could muster. The silver-rimmed goggles with their blacked out lenses and wide elastic strap dangled from one of Hajime's fingers. They certainly were eye-catching but not as much so as the other embellishment neatly folded over Hajime's other arm.

"No," came Oki's flat refusal.

"Ah, ah," Hajime scrambled round to thrust the offending items in her face again, "C'mon Tachibana, you've got to_ look_ the part too."

"If ya what me to look like a total gimp," Oki gave the items another withering glare, "then yeah, I'll look the part in them."

Oki was unsure how Hajime Oda had discovered her usual morning route to the Academy but she was not relishing the extra opportunity it gave him to badger her. She was very close to renouncing their alliance altogether at that point; a prospect that had gotten increasingly appealing with the appearance of_ those_ goggles and _that_ jacket. Oki ducked under the awnings of another fishmonger, sweeping to the left and scaling the wire fence to access another alleyway. Hajime dogged behind her, panting to catch up.

"C'mon Tachibana," there was a small amount of real irritation leaking into his voice, "I went through a lotta trouble to get all this, don't blow it off without at least considering it."

"It's ugly," came Oki's frank reply with another offended glare.

"I didn't realise you were so vain," Hajime wheedled.

Oki darted her gaze towards him and opened her mouth to answer when they were interrupted.

"Oh, Tachibana!"

A group of girls from 1C had paused in where they'd been meandering down the main street that spearheaded to the Kirigakure Academy. This street was far wider and somewhat better presented than most in Kirigakure, ample space for the Shinobi focused businesses to entice customers in with brighter colours or chipped plastic mascots. The group of six girls had also had taken advantage of the broader path. They linked arms and watched and laughed, while one or two of their group would alternate performing relatively impressive displays of acrobatics for the others before issuing the next challenge. All activity ceased when Oki breached in front of their path however, and she was momentarily disappointed she couldn't join the competition.

The girl performing a walking handstand immediately flopped back to her feet at her friend's yell, blushing and smoothing down her shirt self-consciously.

"Eiko," Oki nodded to the girl in the centre who'd grinned and waved hello.

"Wow! I didn't know you walked this way," Eiko Muraoka was a being of rapid appearing and disappearing passionate emotion. And it showed in the excited rise and fall of the black-haired girl's speech and the way she flitted bird-like from one object of interest to another. It did however ensure that she was always at least doing something exciting, and although quick to anger she was just as quick to forgive. It had made Eiko Muraoka something of a favourite among most of the few girls (and many of the boys) in Group 1C.

Unfortunately for Oki (or not so considering Oki's desire for attention) Eiko Muraoka fell into the ranks of those first year girls who sported misguided crushes; scribbling day dreamy poems about light blue hair and piercing dark eyes. A large portion of that group was on the street with Oki Tachibana at that moment, and all of them immediately huddled around their idol.

Somewhat surprised, Oki withdrew a step and was only further confused when they followed.

"So do you walk this way Tachibana?" Eiko grinned up at her, dimples appearing in her checks and a gleam in the girl's hazel eyes that somehow made her uncomfortable.

'Why do I get the feeling that question's loaded?' Oki mentally groaned.

Hajime had slunk round the back of the girl's just as Oki looked up for prompting. The words 'BE COOL' were mimed frantically around the back of Akane Sumida's halo of orange curls. Oki took a breath, placed her hands in her pockets and ensured her vision was directed _somewhere_ into some unforeseen horizon that Hajime had ensured her existed…and looked cool. She tried to ooze nonchalance and confident threat, the latter part coming easily the first not-so when Oki tended to look focused and intense.

"Yeah," she shrugged, "sometimes."

She stealthy glanced at Hajime for a review only to find the brunette flicking his ponytail vigorously. Just as Oki's brows began to narrow with confusion, Hajime's intended message finally clicked. Oki lifted one hand, and chancing a peek at her audience to make sure she had their full intention, moved a hand slowly to smooth back her already slicked back hair.

There was a muffled squeal from Akane and Hajime was doing a victory dance on mute behind them.

"Oh! We walk this way too," Eiko enthused, "do you wanna walk with us sometimes?"

"I'm kinda busy with tryin' to get to the top of the Year Rankings but," another shrug, "sure, when I've got time."

"Really?" Yukiko, a girl with a bobbed brunette hair and a warm, motherly face, perked up, "top of the Year Rankings? But we're in Group C."

"So?" Oki replied flatly, honestly irritated that that fact seemed to immediately condone the act as impossible, "I can do it."

"But-" Yukiko spluttered.

"Yukiko," Oki breathed, "with an attitude that just says what ya can and can't do, all you'll ever do is set yourself boundaries and stunt ya growth."

She drew her already superior height taller and looked hard at each one of them, "I** can** do it. I know I can."

"Ah! Tachibana you're so cool!" Akane yelled, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her fists against her bright red cheeks.

"See ya in class," Oki turned on her heel and continued towards the Academy leaving the girls to whisper behind her.

Hajime instantly appeared at her side and-while glancing to make sure the girl's weren't looking- placed his hand palm up so the pair could discreetly high-five.

"Nailed it!" Hajime sang, "_although_ all that crap about believing in yourself wasn't something we went through, but it seems to have worked a treat."

"They asked a question, Hajime," Oki sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted, "I answered it."

"Yeah, yeah," Hajime snickered, "Don't actually tell me you believe in all that crap."

"I do, or I wouldn't have said it," Oki forced eye-contact, irritated with her companion she felt somewhat vindicated when Hajime promptly dropped his eyes.

"Whatever," Hajime waved it off then thrust the jacket and goggles back at Oki, "put them on, stud," Hajime instructed before continuing, "Kudos for thinking on your feet back there but next time say something about 'us all working together' or I dunno, some heroic bullshit like that anyway."

"But I don't believe in any of that crap," Oki wrinkled her nose and sighed as she strapped the goggles onto her head.

"So?" Hajime shrugged, "Chicks love it."

"_People_ love it," he amended after Oki glared blandly at him, "they'll like the clothes too, how's the jacket?"

Oki measured the worth of the garment in question. It was leather with stubborn tufts of white fur at the collars and the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. It wasn't exactly ugly but it definitely wasn't something Oki would have picked out for herself. Still she tried to think of it pragmatically, the jacket was warm at least and she hadn't had to pay. It might be a bit too flashy but that was the aim of the exercise after all, Oki just hadn't expected that the way she dressed factored into the equation.

"It'll do," she murmured, "though the fur's kinda itchy. Where'd ya-"

"There she is! There she is! What a babe!"

Oki spared Hajime Oda an irritated glance before peeking towards the direction the boy was gesturing furiously in. She didn't see anything interesting, there was a Dango Stand, a vent leaking steam next to it, two women smoking and gesticulating at a map held between them, Nao from class and then another thin snaking street. Oki knew it had to be one of the females in that direction, but with Hajime the 'babe' in question could just as likely be a fifty-year old house wife as a girl his own age.

"Who?" Oki asked blandly.

"Nao, right there!"

Nao happened to be the girl Oki had sat near on the day of her Exam to get into the Academy. She was dark-skinned, golden-eyed and had a face that was all soft edges. Big eyes, diminutive height and an air of helplessness had earned Nao a small collection of loyal followers. She still wore the same plain, crimson kimonos; but besides that failed to elect any interest in Oki. Nao always scored average in class; she didn't speak and very_, very_ rarely deigned to commit herself to a facial expression. She was just a living doll to Oki. Oki had never had an interest in dolls.

Oki sent him an annoyed glance, "Yeah I see her, what 'bout her?"

"She," Hajime's grin grew to eerie proportions, "is the hottest girl in our group, maybe in the whole three classes."

…

"There she is again!"

Oki's expression hardened as she waited for the ten current bouts to end so she could take on her next opponent. Hajime was kneeling behind her; Mr Anzai had placed them on the same three man team for the mock battles which in short meant Oki was stuck listening to Hajime fantasise over each girl as they grappled with their opponent. Yukiko was already up facing down Itaru with her quick, precise jabs. Oki tried to concentrate on the match but frowned when Hajime poked her shoulder.

"Right there!" Hajime pointed to the team kneeling next to Oki's.

"Yeah, I see her because she ain't moved in past two seconds," Oki snapped back, "she were there two minutes ago, Hajime, and she'll be right _there_ in another two minutes."

"Well, just look at her at least," Hajime huffed, careful not to sound too irritated, "Won't you at least acknowledge that the girl's pretty?"

Oki took another long look at the girl in question, hard-faced as she assessed the little bun at the top of her head and wispy curls surrounding her face. Then she turned back to Hajime, expression nonplussed and a little confused about where exactly the boy was going with this, "I…_guess_. What 'bout it?"

Hajime in turn stared at her before loudly slapping a palm against his unimpressed expression, "'what 'bout it'?" he mimicked before energetically continuing his charade again, "she's hot and she might be interested in you, dumbass!"

"Well," Oki frowned, "that's her problem, ain't got nothing to do with me. And don't call me a dumbass!"

"It's got _everything _to do with you," Hajime underlined the 'everything' with a sleazy grin and an even sleazier eyebrow wiggle.

"How would ya even _know_, jeez Hajime ya make no sense sometimes," Oki muttered, trying to mentally wipe Hajime Oda from existence so she could concentrate on the match. Sometimes she came very close to beating the life out of Hajime. But then she remembered how many of her classmates immediately looked to her whenever Mr Anzai asked a question due to Hajime's skill at promoting her reputation, and the urge subsided…_slightly_.

Another sharp poke at her back had her whirling round again. Just as she opened her mouth to tell Hajime to promptly 'piss off' he chattered over her, "Course, she's interested. Every damn girl in this class is interested in our resident hotshot lanky orange-"

"Lanky orange?" Oki growled with obvious perplexed resentment.

"-Nao_ is_ a girl therefore she_is _interested," Hajime whistled lowly, "but oh man, a girl like that is wasted on you."

"Yeah," Oki scowled, "cause she'd be much better with a notorious pant-sniffer like ya, Hajime."

"Besides," she continued, twisting to address, "I ain't interested in gettin' a girlfriend."

"Wow!" Hajime scrabbled forward, practically colliding into Oki's back, "you're a bender!"

"Nah," Oki frowned at him, "I ain't an anything! I've gotta become a famous shinobi, I ain't got _time _for kissin' and other pointless stuff."

"It's not pointless!" Hajime protested.

"Yeah, what's so good 'bout it then?" Oki crossed her arms and looked down at her cohort impatiently.

"….Hehehehe," the only reply she received was a perverted chuckle and some mild drooling.

" I swear someone dropped ya out a window when you were a kid," Oki's face scrunched up and with that she left Hajime Oda to his daydreaming while she mentally tallied the number of weaknesses she'd seen in Itaru's defence and how_ she_ would combat them.

Another tap on her shoulder and Oki could not restrain the low growl that bled from her throat, bristling she rounded on Hajime and opened her mouth to-

"TACHIBANA!"

Oki froze, her eyes widening in tandem with Hajime's as the class fell silent; all noise slain by the brute of Mr Anzai's order. Slowly Oki turned, trying to tug back the tell-tale signs of annoyance from her features as she did so. Mr Anzai would only mistake them for impatience with him, and although somewhat overly confident in herself Oki was not stupid enough to willingly attract her tutor's ire.

"Is there a fucking problem, Tachibana?" Mr Anzai demanded.

"No sir," Oki replied, keeping her eyes to the left of his to avoid direct contact with the glare that burrowing through the skin of her face.

"Well there better be a big fucking problem; because if there isn't a big fucking problem then you've got no_ big fucking _**excuse** to interrupt my lesson!" spittle flew from the corners of Mr Anzai's mouth as he bellowed at her, "So, Tachibana, what _is_ this big fucking problem?"

Before she could stop herself her eyes flicked to Nao, still sitting with absolute poise and an expression of marble. Almost instantly the self-frustration began churning in her gut, the drilling only accelerated as Mr Anzai smiled with tight maliciousness.

"Oh, I see, you've got time to check out girls but not enough time to pay attention! Is that it?"

"No, sir," Oki bit out, fighting to keep the frown from her face.

"Well if you're so damn interested in Miss Nao, Tachibana, why don't you do something productive," Mr Anzai waved the students watching uncertainly from the combat mats with one impatient hand before barking, "Tachibana, Nao front and centre."

"Yes sir," they both chorused; Oki's voice husky against the cool water tones of Nao's.

The creak of their footsteps as they took their places opposite one another on the mats were grating in the heavy silence of the room. Mr Anzai's furious breathing seemed to expand like a live beast, curling into every corner of the room and sharpening its claws between Oki's ears. Her heart rushed to respond, adrenaline already flooding through and honing her eyes, her ears, her blood and every single nerve and tenketsu point in her chakra pathway. Oki eyed Nao, her breath coming in and out in steady waves and her body seeming to grow comfortingly to fit around her.

Nao kept contact with Oki's dark eyes, unthreatening and unapologetic as Oki glared into the wide, golden pools of Nao's impassive gaze. She shifted a foot back and flexed the muscles in her arms twice.

"BEGIN!"

Oki sent her right fist whistling through the air in a wide, brutal arc towards Nao's face. As predicted the girl instinctively ducked and shifted her weight to her left side, precisely where Oki's left foot swing in from. The flat of her foot collided with the girl's crossed arms; Nao buffered her guard and nudged Oki's pressure back with a curt but firm shove. Oki danced back twice, adjusting her centre of gravity as she powered more of her chakra into her legs. Just as Oki's toes dug themselves into the mat, Nao's foot flashed out towards her as if it were a snake darting into her path.

Pure instinct-hammered and whetted into Oki's very being from practice after practice after practice-had Oki's right foot striking forward with the same speed, her left foot twisting flat against the mat to anchor her as her right speared down and captured the ankle of Nao's attacking foot beneath it. Oki flowed with the momentum, river-running as the heel of her right foot planted itself in the unforgiving plastic and kept flowing. She bent her left leg at the knee and pushed, sending it pivoting towards Nao with the combined force of her spin and push. She snapped the rest of her left leg out when it came level with Nao's shoulders and the force of Nao's face compounding with Oki's vicious kick played eager fingers along the very bones of Oki's leg.

Nao spat, spinning away from Oki for a moment before she managed to claw back some control and rolled with the movement instead of sliding. Nao sprang to her feet, fists up and wary. She had every right to be, Oki was already dashing in to take advantage of her disorientation with clenched fists. Nao blocked the first designed for her face with a raised forearm, Oki's wrist and Nao's forearm crashing against one another with a wet smack that made the teeth of the audience tingle with sympathetic pain. Undaunted Oki bit through, snarling and glaring through dark eyes alight with furious elation. That was until she and Nao recognised her unguarded stomach.

They glanced down at the same moment, both clawing for that lead. Oki saw Nao's free fist clench. She saw the muscle in the arm that still wasn't vying against Oki's other fist bunch then…contract. The surrender of Nao was a visible tremor through the girl's body; a forced acceptance that flowed through Nao's arm like a stream, loosening the muscles in distasteful submission. Oki saw it. Oki hated it. She drove her fist in Nao's stomach with far more force than necessary, incensed at the girl's subtle capitulation and feeling vengeful for that need to compete, to improve, to survive.

The girl huffed as the air was shoved from her lungs and Oki took the opportunity to hook her other arm around Nao's forearm. She twisted roughly until Nao's back was to her, and then she hooked her free arm around Nao's throat. With a small leap, Oki thrust her weight onto Nao's back, her knees in the small curve of the other girl's spine as she mercilessly crushed her to the floor. The girl heaved; blood and spit bubbling in the corners of her lips as she passively fought to draw air into her battered lungs through the unrelenting grip of Oki's arm about her throat. Oki did not persist. She granted no leniency even as Nao's hands curled weakly in the material of the mat.

Only a hand at her shoulder dragged Oki away. Mr Anzai's fingers dug into Oki's skinny collarbone, even as she panted in breath and glared down as Nao weakly tried to right herself.

"That's enough! Match is over!"

He rounded on Oki, snapping her out of her daze as he gripped her hair and wrenched her eyes up to his. Oki breathed hard, the adrenaline flooded out and a tremor quaking through her legs.

"I don't know what your damn problem is Tachibana, but I do NOT condone bullying!"

"I-I wasn't!" she protested but for all her previous fury and all the ruthless determination, she could not meet Mr Anzai's eyes.

He spat to the side and released her with a snarl of disgust.

"Clean yourself up, Tachibana. And make sure you aren't so damn worked up when you enter my classroom again or I'll beat it out of you myself," Mr Anzai dismissed.

Oki turned, feeling hot pinpricks of shame in her eyes as she faced the shocked and terrified faces of her classmates. It hadn't been bullying, she hadn't targeted the girl because she was weaker than her or harassed her in the name of some other pathetic excuse. She had just been unable to accept the victory that Nao had unrightfully thrust at her. Oki hadn't earned that win; it hadn't been her own skills or strength that beat Nao and that just seemed to undermine everything Oki Tachibana had worked for.

She paused at Nao. It was that girl's fault. The others hadn't seen what she'd done, hadn't seen the cowardice and vile acquiescence of defeat before the match had even truly begun. Oki didn't know what the girl's game was or why she was playing it, but she didn't care. She cared that Nao had not put up a fight. She cared that the girl was willing to stagnate while Oki was forever dragging herself through the needle head of improvement. Loathing soured in Oki's veins as she met the wary eyes Nao, a burning, roiling disgust that wanted nothing more than to smear Nao's ugly surrender from existence.

"TACHIBANA!"

Oki startled and continued towards the door. She was not willing to allow Nao's actions to go unpunished. She would rip through whatever subterfuge the girl was playing or she would rip them both apart in the pursuit.

….

When she returned (control firmly in check and face wet from a blast of establishing cold water) that was predictably not the end of Oki Tachibana's sudden obsession with Nao. She forgave her seat next to Hajime and pointedly sat herself instead at the empty desk beside the soft-faced young girl. Whispers ran rampant during lunch, talk of Nao and Oki growing more and more convoluted and twisted with each retelling like some overfed beast.

Hajime Oda, although initially cautious about the turn this gossip may take, was quick to tinker the tune into Oki's favour. Some of the students believed Oki Tachibana was in love with Nao and had reacted to her cruel spurning of the sharp-toothed and blue-eyed idol. How those events could have been manufactured from one fight and no conversation was beyond Oki, but her 'tortured heart' apparently made her more popular with the girls according to Hajime. Another and far more ridiculous theory was that Nao had murdered Oki's 'noble family of travelling mercenaries' and Oki had only recognised Nao at that moment. This other tale of tortured past had likewise positive support, in addition to explaining Oki's skill by attaching her to an entire family of imaginary Shinobi legends. She paid no stock to either, to the assessments that Oki's unwillingness to go easy on those of a female persuasion meant she respected the fairer gender or that she had extended a marriage proposal to Nao through the traditions of the warrior village she _apparently_ hailed from.

Oki was not interested in gossip. It was Hajime's job to put these rumours to use, and she had more important things to focus her efforts on; such as watching Nao with hawk-like eyes for the slightest suggestion of another slip-up. A week passed, and Nao was beginning to show signs that Oki's constant surveillance and the rumours that rippled out from it was starting to get to her. The girls in Class 1C began to ignore her or shun her outright. Oki had never seen the girl with friends but there was something deliberate in the other girl's actions from that point onwards. On a Wednesday two weeks from the day of the fight, someone from Class 1B took that first next step in Nao's exclusion by painting the word 'WHORE' into her kimono. Nao wore it regardless, her face still an impassive mask to any effect the abuse may have had. The next day she found spit in the centre of her obligatory rice ball, the day after that she was locked inside a toilet stall and two days after that Nao had sat in the dining hall while calls of 'whore' 'tease' 'slut' and other derogatory terms for women were fired out at her from three separate corners of the room. When they followed her to the place where she lived, Nao decided that enough was enough.

"Genjutsu," Oki began, standing before the blackboard and looking out at the sea of classmate's faces before her gaze inevitably slid to Nao's soft, expressionless face, "are Shinobi Techniques used to distract and confuse an enemy through the illusions."

"And how do they do this, Tachibana?" Mr Anzai sighed, massaging his head before pausing to glare at Tetsu who coughed then beginning the process again. After several minutes of trying to verbally berate the bespectacled boy into explaining Genjutsu, Mr Anzai had given up and called Oki to the front of the class.

"By disruptin' the flow of chakra in yer opponent's brain ya can mess about with their senses," Oki addressed the class at large while standing at military ease, she focused especially on Nao at her next words, "trick them into seeing stuff that ain't really there," she drifted her gaze over the class again, "allowing ya to take advantage of their false information."

"Alright Tachibana, that's enough," Mr Anzai sighed before rising with both hands planted either side of his desk and eyes squeezed closed against a growing migraine, "Thanks to Tachibana here, you should all know what I'm referring to when I say Genjutsu! I want you all to _correctly_ answer the sheets on Genjutsu misconceptions and uses in front of you, there are twenty questions and it's a simple yes and no so even you shitheads shouldn't struggle with it! Anyone scoring under eleven will NOT be going back home tonight, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir," the class chorused in reply.

Oki slid herself into the desk beside Nao, eyes ever watchful of the short, golden-eyed girl even as Oki took up her piece of lead. The questions were simple, Oki already having devoured and memorised as much as possible from the Genjutsu chapter of their workbooks. A single trick question was likely to catch most off but was easily avoidable if you paid particular attention to the words chosen. And eternal perfectionist Oki Tachibana, paid particular attention to almost everything that involved her.

She was the first to finish, and used her spare time to observe Nao. The girl's answer sheet was just as contradicting as that fight had been. The answers were filled to exactly eleven of the questions, all at differing difficulties that said much about what would be Nao's normal capability with completing the questionnaire. 'So why, if she's intelligent enough to answer all these questions right, is she deliberately trying to only get an average score?' Oki frowned. She had no idea, no notion of any possible motive that could make anyone even _think _about consistently underachieve.

As if sensing Oki's eyes on her, Nao moved her arm to cover her sheet but the action only served to lift the sleeve of kimono higher and reveal four finger-print bruises on her wrist. Oki narrowed her eyes. Tearing a corner from her sheet she hastily scribbled down '_I need to talk to you, meet me outside the door after class.'_

She carefully slid the slip of paper over onto Nao's desk, watching the girl's exotic skin tone and features for any hint of a reaction. There was none. Nao read and wrote her reply with the same blank face as she did everything else.

_'__For what purpose?'_

Oki almost scowled with barely restrained impatience, Nao was too careful but she reaffirmed Oki's previous suspicions with that Genjutsu answer sheet and Oki was unprepared to allow it to pass again.

'_Just meet me outside.'_

In seconds the reply was distributed.

_'__Very well'._

To the girl's credit she did not look nervous or even slightly flustered as she neatly folded her hands before herself, fingers almost entirely swallowed by her long crimson sleeves. Oki stood immoveable as the stream of students passed between them, spilling out into the corridor like water between fingers. The cramped corridors were split by rectangles of pale sunlight at irregular intervals, the slit like windows high and thin but long enough at least to carry a chilled breeze and the sound of rain through the corridors. The plain walls of the Academy smelt sterile to Oki, and she did not enjoy lingering in those narrow spaces longer than was necessary. She preferred the human smell of her and Zabuza's bolt-hole; of what they'd ate that night and the spice of human sweat and the mellow undertones of damp.

"Oh, hey Tachibana, were you waitin-" Hajime paused as he took notice of where (or whom) Oki had narrowed her gaze towards.

"Ah right, I'll get out of your way," Hajime grinned, "meet me in the Dining Hall, stud."

Oki bristled with impatience as her classmates lingered to catch sight of situation. Their eyes had never felt so heavy or intrusive, and she had never felt like the one caught under _them _. For a moment she felt hollow, frustrated and trapped; the image of tough, cool prodigy caging her in and restricting her breathing. For a single moment Oki had never felt the need to lash out so greatly since that terrible night at Nishihama. Then her gaze met the spark of curiosity behind Nao's dead-eyed scrutiny, and feeling challenged Oki forced the sensation away from her as if she were shedding a coat three sizes too small.

Eventually the last of her classmates leaked out, Tetsu jogging to meet a waiting Akira and Itaru, throwing Oki and Nao a curious look before the trio rounded the curve.

"So, what did you wish to speak with me about Mr Tachibana?" Nao's question was immediate and impersonal; as lifeless as her voice and face.

Oki faltered for a moment before gathering herself, "I wanna know what ya doin?"

Nao didn't even flinch at Oki's command, "I am speaking with you, Mr Tachibana."

"I don't mean that," Oki snapped, "I mean pullin' that punch in the fight. I mean only scorin' average on that last sheet on purpose."

Nao's eyes widened a fraction, the only display of surprise was miniscule, "You noticed? If you noticed why did you design to question me so directly?"

"I noticed," Oki nodded, "And I'm asking ya because it's drivin' me nuts, I want answers."

"Very well," Nao replied, face easing back into its smooth, empty expression, "but I must also request that you answer my questions."

"What question?" Oki frowned, but kept her voice just as candid as before.

"What is your latent obsession with me? Are you physically attracted to me, Mr Tachibana?"

Oki blinked. Then blinked again. Then she laughed rather loudly.

"What?" she managed through her chuckles, "The hell Nao, I'm tryin' to be serious here."

"As am I," Nao replied still blank-faced despite Oki's echoing laughter, "If you are not attracted to me, then that is certainly the impression that our classmates have garnered."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Oki raised a brow and smirked.

"That singular impression has made my life more unbearable that it already was," Oki blinked at the sudden vehemence leaking into her flat tone, "and it is an impression_ you_ gave them."

"How exactly?" Oki shifted her weight onto her back foot as she continued to scrutinise the shorter girl, "I ain't told them anything like that, and I don't see how it's my fault. Ya still ain't answered my question neither."

"I preform at a perfect average to avoid any unwanted attention," Nao bit out, her voice coloured as anger breathed life into it, the subtle hints of transformation was fascinating to Oki, "unwanted attention such as the like you have brought onto my head, Mr Tachibana."

Oki just grinned. Seeing Nao frustrated, catching those glimpses of hatred and potential and real intelligence behind the frosty veneer was strangely addictive. Each time she managed to coax out a slither of the human underneath the impenetrable impassive armour, Oki felt that buzz of victory. She wanted to push farther, but unlike with Zabuza Momochi, her need to draw out Nao was not because she enjoyed the girl's company or felt that they were in some way equal or even because she was eager to see what was beneath. She wanted to crack Nao's shell simply to see if she could, to challenge and emerge triumphant.

She couldn't understand Nao's motives and this time she felt a misplaced desire to do so. She wasn't intending to hurt the girl, but the puzzle Nao posed was far too tempting to take something such as consequences into consideration.

"I'll take responsibility."

Nao blinked, her face suddenly slack until again within moments it wasn't, "Pardon?"

"I'll take responsibility," Oki nodded, "but only if you do too, alright?"

"I apologise, I do not quite understand what you are implying."

"Look," Oki sighed, "I don't really think any of the crap ya dealin' with is my fault but I do get that ya don't have the power to get yourself outta it. And to be honest seeing you waste," her face screwed up at the very notion of it, "all your potential is pissing me off. So I tell everyone you're my girlfriend and they'll back off."

"Wouldn't that only exaggerate the circumstances?" Nao questioned.

"Not really," Oki shrugged, "right now Eiko and Akane and even Akira and stuff think they can get away with what they're doin' cuz I don't like ya and you're on your own. Nobodies' coming to save ya right now and cuz ya insist on getting shitty scores it looks like _you_ can't help yourself much neither. If they think you're my girlfriend, they'll back off," she grinned, "It may have escaped your notice, Nao, but not many people are willing to mess with me after a stuck a pencil through Akira's hand."

"And what exactly do you get out of this arrangement, Mr Tachibana?" Oki thought she sensed a thin sliver of fear in Nao's voice at the question.

"I want ya up to full strength," Oki's tone was deadly serious, "no bullshitting. I only want the strongest in this class around me and that was Haijime, but if ya can answer that whole sheet _and _keep up with me in a fair fight, I want ya on my team too."

"…I see."

Oki waited as Nao mulled the decision over. She focused her attention on that thin strip of window, on the grey veil of rain beyond it and on the burgeoning knot of thick, ominous clouds uncurling their black bellies over the skyline of Kirigakure.

"What would the position entail?"

Oki darted her eyes back towards Nao, "what ya mean?"

"What…" Nao audibly gulped and shifted, "What would the…position of girlfriend entail?"

"Oh?" Oki remained stumped, aware that she was blinking dumbly and looking more awkward and less in control than she ever had, "I…I, er, I dunno."

"You are surprisingly more naïve than I had first predicted, Mr Tachibana," Nao stated.

"Heh," she attempted to shrug it off, "Well….I'll ask Hajime, I guess but nothing perverted that he'd suggest…or anything."

"I see," Nao nodded, "Then I accept your offer."

…

"_A girlfriend!?"_

Zabuza Momochi didn't think he'd laughed so hard in his entire life, it even bordered on painful. He hadn't even known that you could literally_ cry _with laughter until that moment.

"I'm glad ya find it so amusing," Oki huffed but there was a curl to the corners of her lips that suggested she found it just as entertaining as he did.

Her fingers were thin and fine boned, the most feminine feature Oki Tachibana possessed, as she smoothed ink-painted pads along the paper. Her seals again. How many nights had Zabuza watched with some alien form of fascination gripping him as Oki sat hunched over those ragged strips of paper, her eyes burning and hard with focus? Even he didn't know, but the sight was oddly calming to Zabuza, the quiet intent of her exercises and the ceaseless drive that pushed her to discard each seal and try again for perfection with another, soothed him in a way he could not explain. Zabuza was a creature of action, so was Oki but their approaches differed violently. He couldn't help seeing something so familiar and so different and not be eased by its presence.

He couldn't say he liked her. He was accustomed to her, and hadn't bothered to question that any more than need be while her skills were still required. But in those moments when she painted her seals, then and perhaps_ only_ then Zabuza found himself peculiarly fond of the blue-haired wiry girl with her candid demeanour and sharp, judgemental eyes. She poised her finger over the tag, chin burrowed into the ridiculous fur of her jacket as she assessed her latest work and as usual found it lacking.

"So, what ya gonna do with her?" Zabuza smirked, reclining against the wall as his fingers worked through the Hand Seals she'd showed him.

"I ain't gonna do anything with her," Oki's tone was confused even as she frowned and screwed her tag into a ball. Zabuza watched it sail out the window, the sound of it bouncing against the concrete walls echoing dully in the small bolt-hole for a moment.

"Well, what if 'Mrs Oki Tachibana' _wants_ ya to do something," he questioned in a mischievous tone, feeling simultaneously playful and sadistic. At least with Oki there was someone who wouldn't take offence at his rough sport like the others would, but he couldn't help that lingering defensive notion, the need to violently cast her out if she ever ridiculed him for such actions.

It wasn't often that Zabuza felt his age, and these fights with Oki were the closest he had come to it in such a long time.

"Well, that's her problem," Oki shrugged and Zabuza chuckled again.

"C'mon, Oki be a man!" he grinned, all sharp teeth and sharp intent, "or the man everyone seems to think ya are."

"Momochi," she growled in warning, "I'll sit on ya."

Zabuza huffed a dismissive laugh, "Psh, like your skinny ass could ever hurt me."

"Just keep pushin' Zabuza," she smirked, eyes roving along the elegant lines of her new seal, "see where it gets ya."

"I'm practically pissin' myself, Oki," he grinned smugly, eyes already daring her to take up the challenge.

'Don't back down,' he mentally urged, 'C'mon Oki'. He would never allow it. Never allow Oki Tachibana to remove him from who he was through either condescending or respectful attitudes. He couldn't allow it; not when she viewed him at even level with her. He was used to forcing his will on those around him, used to having to resentfully bear the will of others forced onto him, but here in the bolt-hole neither was completely above the other. No two people could ever be on entirely level footing, but at least the scrabbling between them both was not as bitter as the majority of Zabuza's other dealings.

He had been beaten beneath the whims of a man once, had in retaliation and a need for survival meted out the same punishment for others. But an innocent part of him, buried but not entirely forgotten, was adamant that the race for supremacy and fear, submission and dominance, could not trespass into the one safe place he had in Kirigakure.

"So this girlfriend of yours," Zabuza completed a Tiger Seal before flexing his fingers out and folding his arms behind his head, zeroing in on Oki's concentrating face with his own smug grin, "she pretty?"

"I guess," she replied, eyes still latched onto her work, "I dunno, everyone else seems to think so."

Zabuza felt a twinge of irritation at Oki's consideration of her reputation among her classmates again. She was the strongest in her Group now, and still working towards the strongest in her year, so why did it matter what they thought of her? He couldn't understand it. And Zabuza was often irritated by things he could not understand, resentful of being left out the group or some unforeseen joke that was being played on him.

"Well, I asked ya didn't I?" Zabuza spat, incapable of keeping the surge of aggravation in, "Do _you_ think she's pretty?"

"I don't see how it matters," Oki frowned, "It's not like it's gonna change how strong she might be or anything, but I guess she's got nice hair."

"Alright," Zabuza huffed, "answer the damn question next time. It ain't like I asked ya-"

"Oof!"

It took Zabuza Momochi a moment to work out why he was on the floor and there was a triumphant looking Oki wiggling her butt on his chest. He blinked at her.

"Told ya I'd sit on ya," Oki sniffed, preening smugly.

"Tachibana!" Zabuza growled, grinning as the two of them began wrestling one another again. It quickly devolved into a childish scramble of hair-pulling and biting and pinching and tickling; the squealing protests and laughter mingling equally.

**A/N:**

**There we go, another chapter up and hopefully you enjoyed it! **

**Review replies:**

**TurtleBiscuit: Ah, thank you very much for such a lovely review! I'm so glad you like my writing style since that is one of the (many) things I worry about before posting a chapter; I'm also very glad you like Oki and Zabuza is so believable :D Writing those two together is somehow far easier than it is writing any other character interactions (thank god) and it's funny you brought up Ouran Host Club because now every time I see Tamaki I just keep superimposing Oki's head over his XD Your review really made my day so thank you again for posting!**

**askinghonest: Thank you very much for your review, I'm really glad you find Oki cool and not 2D since she is a character who tends not to delve too much into her own emotions I was apprehensive that she'd come off as some cardboard cut-out Mary Sue! I don't have any intentions at the moment to arrange a meeting between her and the main Naruto cast but you never know I guess :]**

**CreepyNick1: I hope you mean good funny XD Nonetheless thanks for the review, I'm glad it's not too angsty or anything :D**

**SadisticAvocado: Thank you or autopraise ;D And I have absolutely no idea about the smilie debate, I tend to spam them just because everything I type/text somehow looks sarcastic to me otherwise…Onwards to the questions. This is a Zabuza x OC fic (or I intend it to be, I doubt it but I can't say that fact would never, ever change) so it will become romantic at some point but not while they're kids. There is some rivally right now but not to Sasuke/Naruto or Kakashi/Obito or even Guy/Kakashi proportions. Right now they're feeling each other out and growing accustomed to the other one, but that will change with time obviously. What I don't what is that romantic type where they ****_constantly_****antagonise each other, while I enjoy it sometimes with the right characters, writing and setting, ultimately I can't see a couple who works that way lasting over time (I'm looking at you unhealthy Dragon Age Rivalmances!) but on the other hand I don't want them to immediately love each other to death for no inexplicable reason. So I've tried to make some playful arguing and realistic issues; fingers crossed it's at least somewhat believable so far :]**

**World Aqua Marine: Thank you for your lovely review, it was one of the first to come through and really helped me feel more confident about that last chapter! I do have to admit I'm enjoying writing the larger amount of fight scenes; it's really good to know you're enjoying them just as much :D**

**Countenance: Thanks for the review!**

**THANK YOU for reading, favouriting and following this fic, I truly appreciate the interest :D**


	9. 9: A friend in need

A friend in need.

Winter passed from Kirigakure unwillingly. That last month of the cold season had secured its claws into the city of greys and open-mouthed skyline for all its worth. The little metal tray of Zabuza and Oki's bolthole had never released its fire, and they'd starved instead through the particularly bitter days since even they were not brave or stupid enough to adventure through those icy winds.

Oki had felt nothing like it before. Even in the bitter winter she left Nishihama she had never felt so bare and so small against the might of the elements. It was ice in her veins and paper for bones that last month of her ninth winter, and when it finally inevitably passed Oki could not remember how the warmth of the sun had felt on her skin.

She spent much of those days huddled on that ratty futon with Zabuza's meagre heat at her back and the small fire on the tray stuttering at their side. Those few, threadbare quilts they had were stretched tight between them and Oki was forced to watch shadows dance and ice spider web along the wall. Zabuza always faced the open room, the onetime Oki and he had alternated their positions Zabuza had become increasingly restless and kept barking spiteful paranoid comments until Oki finally relented. For all Oki's skills at intimidating and simultaneously drawing others to her, she could never (and predicted _would_ never) be capable of out-stubborn Zabuza Momochi. It was also the first time she really noticed how deeply the eight year old mistrusted those around him.

He never stood at the centre of the room like Oki was known to do (better to be seen and heard and acknowledged); instead Zabuza lingered in corners and watched the procession with beady, narrowed eyes. He rarely spoke to strangers and even then his answers were curt and confrontational, though his tone did not change much when he considered you to be someone recognised by him. Oki as a rule did not generally mistrust the people around her, she was confident enough in her abilities to see no reason to, but Zabuza…Zabuza Momochi never stopped looking for all the ways a person could him and all the ways he could hurt them in retaliation.

She could not say she was an exception to that rule, he had sized her up in much the manner she had and still his eyes kept dogged track of her steps. She couldn't begrudge him this. Even Oki was aware of how…pragmatically she was capable of viewing those around her. She hadn't designed for it to be that way; she couldn't honestly say she was thankful of her astute and practical view of the world about her. But it was how her eyes saw and she could do very little about it.

Oki tightens the blanket around her, her arms shaking violently and the bruises from slapping against the water in yesterday's water-walking practice ache with the cold. Her breath puffed from between her chapped lips and bloomed out across the shadowed corner of the wall.

"Where do ya come from anyway?"

Zabuza's question startles her, perhaps more so than it should since he is the first to ask in the near season Oki Tachibana has lived in Kirigakure. Many want to know Oki Tachibana without really knowing her; the girls in her Year (even a few in Group 1A) want to know her preferences so that they can possessively claim they know her best, most want to know how she does so well in class, what her strategies and techniques are or some false novelties about justice and their own worth that will rectify that they have all have a place in her esteem. But no one wants to know the actual fabric of Oki Tachibana, those worries and the losses she counts that make her human.

"Nishihama," she finally answered, teeth chattering in her skull, "A fishing village on a nearby island."

Zabuza's chuckle caught in his throat with the cold and he drew his arms tighter about himself, "Sounds boring."

"It _was_ boring," Oki smirks, "but kinda safe too."

"Anywhere's safer than Kirigakure," Zabuza muttered, "Y'know what the other Villages call it?"

"Nah," her curiosity was peaked.

"The Village of the Bloody Mist," Zabuza replied with grand, ironic grandiose, "got a nice ring to it, ain't it?"

"Only if ya menstruating," Oki huffed, "It ain't bad, I like it here."

"You would," Zabuza mumbled then was quiet for a long moment, "I heard that the other Villages ain't like here, but I reckon they gotta be the same."

"Gotta be," Oki nodded, "Ya can't be a_ nice_ Shinobi, and ain't that the business they're in?"

"Right," Zabuza grunted, "Hey, Oki?"

"Yeah?" she tucked her chin to her chest, breathing warm air into the chilled cocoon children and blankets made.

"Did…did ya have a family and stuff?"

Oki stills, her entire frame so taut that she is ridiculously concerned that it might snap like frozen plastic. A breath caught in the base of her throat and under and around it she felt a rippled emotion bundled up into that breath, slipping about it, spearing right through. The fire was cold on the skin of the father who jerked through her mind, his arms pin wheeling through ghostly blue flames and his screams screeching through Oki's memory in one pale, thin line.

She didn't want to talk about this. In fact, at that moment she could have been quite content with the Earth opening up and swallowing Zabuza Momochi and his question whole.

"Don't see how that's any f ya business," Oki snapped.

"Geez, calm down ya grumpy cow," Zabuza snarled, "I was only askin' a question."

"Well don't," she bit back, "I don't wanna talk about it."

She doesn't wheedle for an apology, even if the way his shoulders stiffen mean that Oki has lost one of those tiny parcels of faith Zabuza buries away in her. But she does regret it. Maybe because Zabuza is the first to ask, maybe because her heated, irrational defence is unlike her and that only signals how much that one day the ANBU came calling has left its filthy mark. She regrets it but it is neither in Oki's nature nor knowledge to rectify mistakes; in these things she is clumsy and vulnerable. In these things she is not as in control as she likes to be.

"…I have a family in Nishihama," she sighed on an exhale.

"Look, I ain't interested so shut up-" Zabuza immediately boiled up.

"Shut up," Oki snapped, "ya asked a question so listen to the damn answer," it takes a while for her to draw enough courage to speak again, "I had two brothers. One of 'em was older, Kenzo, and the other were younger, Kenki. My mom died giving birth to him but I wasn't too upset and stuff 'bout it cause I never really knew her anyway…I had a dad too."

And it is here, Oki's resolve gave out and she took longer still to coax it back once again.

"There was this guy see," she speaks as if she's talking to ghosts or maybe the shadows on the walls, airing her confessions to unseeing eyes and unhearing ears, "he washed up in these caves and he were a Shinobi, his skin looked…looked like burnt meat and he always smelt of it too. But I thought he was amazing, not cause he was anything special really but cause he were special in Nishihama. He could do things I ain't never seen before and he came from a world that were so much bigger and so much…_better_ than Nishihama. I couldn't stop going to check on 'im," she breathed again, "I dunno if I would have even if I knew what were gonna happen."

"Well," she began again, "turned out the guy was a Missing Nin who'd abandoned his team, and these ANBU came looking. They found some of our stuff in the gave and then came knockin' at our door, it was scary but I still didn't think they'd really_ do_ anything. Crap like that never happened in Nishihama. The ANBU said my dad had to…had to turn one of us in and he chose Kenki and then before I even knew what the hell I was doin'…."

The silence is long and tight this time. Too long, too agonising and the more it draws out the more Oki's words curl up and die in her throat.

"Boom," Zabuza breathes softly.

"Yeah," Oki's laugh is mirthless and exhausted, her skinny frame suddenly seeming so much smaller than it ever was, "_boom_."

"At least we got something in common then," Zabuza's words catch her off guard. At first she's not entirely sure she's heard them but a quick glance at his back shows how determinedly he's turning his head away from her. It is a habit of Zabuza's to turn his head away from a world that has seen a brief glimpse of him that he never permitted them to see.

"Zabuza Momochi and Oki Tachibana," Zabuza announces with that same biting tone, "self-made orphans."

"Ya self-pitying," Oki warns with a smirk that she doesn't entirely feel but then Zabuza laughs and she suddenly does feel like the smile does fit her face.

"_You_ can talk!" he bumps his back against her, the tension bleeding from the twin sets of skinny shoulders as a more familiar atmosphere bubbles up, "Ya didn't even know that guy in the cave dumbass, he coulda been a creeper."

"Yeah, well I'll be sure to call ya if I find any burnt up old men in a cave again," Oki laughs.

"You should," Zabuza nods, "I'd kick his pedo ass!"

"Nah, I meant so he could have _you_ instead," Oki smirks.

"Fine," Zabuza huffed, "I'd kick _his_ pedo ass and then kick _your_ traitorous ass!"

"I dunno if ya could reach," Oki laughed.

"Oh just try me, Tachibana," Zabuza muttered, but there was a teasing undertone beneath the venom, "It'd find a way."

"Or a stepladder," Oki snorted.

She chuckled when Zabuza jolted his shoulders against her back again in retaliation. Her next breath came out in a sigh; Oki could feel her eyes had begun to grow drowsy, a yawn aching in her jaw where there'd be spitting, defensive emotions only minutes before.

"Hey Oki?" Zabuza's voice sounded as soft-headed as Oki felt.

"Yeah, Zabuza?" she murmured.

"Do ya regret it?" the question was still curled, sleepy like a cat and it seemed likely to Zabuza that he still hadn't fully realised that he'd voiced his thoughts.

Oki answered nonetheless with the truth, "…No, not really. It were horrible how he…died but I dunno, if I hadn't have done it were would me and Kenki be now. I guess….I guess if I think 'bout it like that, it feels like it was kinda necessary. So no, I don't _regret_ doing it, but sometimes I feel like I _should_. What 'bout you? Do ya regret it?"

Zabuza's reply was instant and hard and brittle, a sword thrust with some powerful, unseen hand driving the sharp tone behind it, "No. I ain't never regretted it. Not once."

She wanted to answer, to question but she's so exhausted and cold and hungry that she can't find her tongue in her mouth. Her head lolled back and when she attempted to right it the movement is brittle, her neck nothing more than green sprig. She thought he may have said something else before pulling the blanket tighter. The action only kindles what little warmth they had and Oki was too far gone in that in-between dreaming to hear the words. She felt her skin fused to Zabuza's back and wondered who was holding up who before sleep finally claimed her.

…

However bad the conditions those trespassers into the Land of Water suffered far worse than the inhabitants. Zabuza kept an ear cocked, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and lingering as close to the makeshift communal fire as he dared. He'd paid no heed to the looks the adults gave him, pushing them aside in the same manner he did the other children despite whispers of '_disrespectful, what is happening to the youth these days?'_

The cold was subsiding to an extent, but the ground beneath his feet was still cracked with ice or thick with slush. It seeped into his sandals, froze his very toenails until Zabuza was forced to shift uncomfortably every few moments in a fruitless attempt to avoid the painful numbing. Snow piled at the months of alleyways, tossed carelessly aside so the streets were clear and the Villagers of Kirigakure could go about their business less impended.

A stout man stinking of sake and face littered with tell-tale red veins turned to his reedy companion. Disgusting. Zabuza almost spat with revulsion; he had no time, patience or esteem for those who drowned themselves in drink. He knew intimately what alcohol could do to a man and his (lack thereof) self-control. But, nevertheless, he bit his cheek to keep the biting comments in check. He wanted to hear the news, and if it was enough to distract that tiny crowd huddled from the contents of their pockets well…Zabuza could hold his silence.

"They said they managed to push them damn Leaf Nin back from the borders last week," the man muttered, "I heard the foolish bastards were half-frozen into the ground. Weak-bellied Leaf Nin scared of a little cold."

He laughed. Zabuza eyed the way the man's legs were trembling with that very same cold and smirked. _A hypocritical alcoholic, wow what a rare find._

"Not like our boy's," the man continued jostling his reluctant companion in a show of misplaced good-humour, "take more than a little snow to beat them down."

"Quiet!" a thin-faced woman snapped across from them, "only an idiot would joke about the war."

"An idiot?" the man snarled, "where's your sense of patriotism, you old hag?

"Same place as my son," her reply was bright and sharp with vitriol and a deep, aching loss, "Dead and buried for a pointless war."

"I can't even remember how it started," another voice joined the group, empty and sounding almost dazed as the man's waxen face was lit and relit from the flickers of the fire, "I'm not even sure if it'll ever end…"

"Cowards!" the first man spat, "It's people like you that destroy great countries, this war_ will_ end and Kirigakure _will_ win!"

"Right!" another woman cheered, "The Fourth's the strongest Mizukage our Village has ever seen, he'll win this for us!"

"Then you're a bigger fool than him," the older woman sniped, "The Fourth'll die in some other bloody, pointless struggle just like every Kage before him."

Zabuza took the opportunity of the re-faced man's impassioned response to slip the contents of his back pocket into his awaiting hand. Then, stowing his haul inside his own pockets, Zabuza turned to stalk away, the absence of the flames sapping the meagre heat. He hurried his steps, eager to break away from the hopeless that had hung bloated and scornful above the heads of the adults.

Another gust of winter winds blasted against Zabuza's face as he swung into the main street. It carried ice in its breath; tiny pinpricks Zabuza could feel hit then instantly melt against his skin. The stars were out, their tiny luminous faces half-concealed behind a veil of mist and the looming silhouettes of Kirigakure's towers against the backdrop of the night sky. Light was pouring out onto the dirt road of the street from slit-eyed windows of homes and ragged lanterns jostled on their posts at the ends of shop awnings. Zabuza was, as always, bewitched by the sombre beauty of Kirigakure at night, especially when the bent-backs and faraway gazes of its people seemed just as reminiscent. He felt at home here, as much as he could anywhere at least, akin maybe to the scent of bitter nostalgia that always seemed to hang in the mists of Kirigakure. It was so easy to lose parts of yourself in Kirigakure and find others that you hadn't even been aware existed.

With the cold still snatching at his cheekbones and swooping under the flimsy material of his shirt; Zabuza was suddenly hit by a powerful urge to hunt out his bolt-hole and the company that lay within. He snorted, it was Sunday and the tiny fire in his home was not lit because Oki Tachibana was prowling the streets just as he was.

"Zabuza!"

He stiffened, before recognising the voice.

"Speak of the devil," Zabuza muttered, smoothing back the smile that was twitching at his lips, "and he shall appear."

Oki looked even more coltish on the icy pathway; her legs slipping here and there before reasserting themselves with a sneaky blast of chakra. She was rosy-cheeked and her eyes were watery with the effort of battling the winds. He snorted and wondered how many of her classmates would question her gender if they saw her now.

But they wouldn't, would they? Oki Tachibana would never allow herself to appear as underprepared as she looked now when in the presence of anyone else.

"Zabuza," she skidded to a stop, eyes darting from left to right, "there's a weird thing in the next street."

"A what?" Zabuza's face screwed up, thoroughly confused by the cool urgency in her voice.

"A thing," she repeated, a hand ran through her short light blue hair and the grin that rose up as she glanced back towards the way she'd come clearly broadcasted her excitement, "I dunno how to describe it. It's hairy and it's got six legs but two of 'em are _wheels_!"

"Wheels?" Zabuza murmured, a boyish grin appearing on his own face in response to the possible discovery of some strange creature, "Ya sure?"

"Yeah," she grasped his sleeve, he paused.

Those long fingers wrapped around his wrist and Zabuza could feel his pulse reverberating wildly against his own skin. He tried to breathe, tried to remember the feel of Oki's fingers not his father's and cement that the two were not the same. He glanced at her face, at those dark, intelligent eyes and sharp, androgynous features and the crescent grin of jagged teeth. Oki Tachibana. This was Oki Tachibana. Not the man Zabuza had been forced to call father.

"C'mon," she tugged at his wrist and the spell was broken, "Hurry up, Zabuza ya lazy bastard!"

Zabuza's pride rose up to the occasion as he bolted forward, securing his own fingers against her pulse and dragging _her _behind_him_. He debated yelling something back at her, equally as challenging in tone but far rougher than Oki could ever manage, but a lingering stutter in his heartbeat kept the inclination at bay.

He hadn't had one of those breathless moments in good, long months. Hadn't bothered allowing anyone close enough for the past to creep up on him and wait for the ideal opportunity to deliver a gut punch.

"Look, Zabuza," her breath puffed in white smoke against the side of his neck as she yanks him down behind another pile of dirt-stained slush, he peered out into the street she indicated with a wary curiosity.

Her voice was all awe and interest as she asks, "what do ya reckon it is?"

And Zabuza almost wet himself laughing when he saw it.

There in the centre of the road is possibly the fattest, mangiest looking pony Zabuza has ever seen. Its chubby rump shivered with the cold and its scraggy ears flicked lazily back and forth, and back and forth, while glassy eyes stared out at its surroundings with an expression of absolute disinterest. Zabuza looks at the intense concentration on Oki's face then back at the pony who-as if to underline how massively unimpressive it is-lifted its tail and took a dump in the middle of the street. He almost lost it entirely when Oki gasped at the sight and leaned forward with interest.

"Zabuza-" she began but then noticed that he can barely breathe for laughing, "…what the hell? What's so damn funny?"

"You-" he tried but can't choke past the words until he's gained some semblance of control, "_That_ was the mystery 'thing'?"

"Yeah," Oki eyed up the pony, "weird looking, ain't it?"

He dissolves into laughter again and didn't so much as flinch when Oki swatted his arm.

"What the hells got into ya?" she grumbled, "whatever, c'mon I'm gonna take a closer look."

Zabuza bolted up to follow her, "this I gotta see."

Oki crept along the path, her eyes never leaving the pony and Zabuza's eyes never leaving her. She inspects it from all angles, as if she were prospective homeowner measuring the angles and appreciating the architecture of a new build. When she did finally get closer it was in smooth, sidling movements with her body coiled for reaction. Zabuza just leaned against the nearby wall and watched, revelling in the knowledge that he knew something Oki Tachibana did not. These constant games for superiority are small but no less important, Oki may be able to cook but she doesn't recognise a beast of burden when Zabuza does.

"What're those things on its head doin?" she whispers to him; narrowing her eyes at the pony's ears as if they were a yet unidentified threat.

"Listeng" Zabuza smirks, he can feel the humour bubbling up again.

She stopped at that reply, revaluating the pony with her hands on her hips. She reached out a hand to its flabby lips, likely to poke at the drooping lower one when all of a sudden the pony snaps at her. Oki hisses and before Zabuza's even really aware of what's happening, Oki Tachibana punches that fat, dirty pony in the side of the head.

Zabuza exploded into barking laughter.

He was still laughing while he dragged Oki away from the front legs of the furious animal. He could barely breathe as Oki spat and snipped at the animal. He tries to explain exactly what a pony is but Oki's first impression has already been soured by the interaction. She doesn't like them. Zabuza can't help being reduced into a fit of chuckles again, when the 'cool, collected, tough' Oki Tachibana displayed those childish tendencies that he is far more accustomed to.

"How come ya didn't even know what it is?" Zabuza asked and he can't wipe the damn smile from his face.

"I ain't never seen one before, didn't need 'em in Nishihama and not seen in Kirigakure neither," she shrugs, pouting slightly as she massages her sore fingers, "Good thing too. If ya hadn't pulled me away, Zabuza, I _swear_ I woulda killed that little shit."

The laughter bubbled up in his throat again, "Damn, Oki, I'd thought ya woulda had higher ambitions than kicking the crap outta a_ pony_," he shrugged, smirking, "Guess I was wrong."

"Nah," Oki muttered, "I'm gonna get to the top first _then_ I'm coming back for the ponies."

He snorted, "Suppose they're livin' in fear till then."

She chuckled this time and caught his eyes; a grin, equally wide and sharp-teethed, is threaded from her face to his and tied them together if only for this moment. He suddenly has the urge to bump his shoulders against hers, so he does because no one can stop him and if they tried it'd only double the urge. Her legs lock around the metal fence they're sitting on, tightening around the cold metal poles and shoulders hunching further around the hand she's cradling to her chest. But she bumps his shoulders back.

For a brief moment Zabuza wonders if this is what it means to have a friend. To have someone keeping pace and filling the silence and measuring their life along his own. To have someone who might actually care if he were wiped from the planet tomorrow, someone who knew that he didn't like unnecessary rambling and he especially enjoyed grilled fish when the weather was brisk. Stupid things; doing and knowing and reacting to stupid things that logically they had no need to do, know or react to. He wouldn't exactly know. He's never had a friend before and for all Oki's popularity neither has she.

But he shook the thought; thinking too deeply about others only manages to frustrate him and he hasn't the time or inclination to sit there mulling over it. Oki Tachibana is simply Oki Tachibana, there isn't any more to it.

She sighed suddenly and the quiet exhalation brought Zabuza from his thoughts. He looks down at his grimy hands for something to say, frowning at a year's worth of dirt underneath his chewed fingernails. His hands are stocky and sure, not fine-boned with pianist's fingers like hers. He thinks he preferred his hands better but other times the practicalities of hers are more favourable. Difficult to judge, he decided, just like Oki and me, I guess, difficult to judge.

"What are yours then?"

At first he was confused, believing that he'd spoken aloud and Oki was asking about their hands. He glanced up to screw his face up at her.

"Eh?"

"Ya _ambitions_," she sighs, "Bloody hell Zabuza, sometimes ya zone out like a love-struck little girl."

He bristled, "Well, _my_ ambitions are a damn sight better than raisin' a vendetta on a group of stinky animals."

She smirked, "Ya ain't got any, have ya?"

"I have!" he protested, "I'm gonna be the best! I'm gonna be stronger than anyone else here, ever!"

"Hey!" she snapped, "That's my dream!...But I _guess_ we can have the same one…."

"Fine," he huffed, a smirk curling his lips, "…but I ain't killing any ponies for ya."

…..

She reminds Oki of Kenki.

That, is the prevalent thought that keeps Oki charitable by Nao's constant shadowing and the quiet, almost strangled, dependency reflecting in the girl's eyes every time she looks at Nao. The girl hardly says a word just steps in each footstep Oki has made as if Nao can feel the invisible indents of Oki's path. She rarely speaks but Oki can hear it still, that silent need for approval that hung so heavy around her little brother. She rarely speaks but Oki can hear the need to please as Nao drives herself into the curriculum, no longer fearful about drawing attention.

For those first three weeks before Nao became a person in her own right, she was nothing more than a pale stand-in for Oki's absent brother.

This is a relationship Oki knows well; the hero worship, and unwavering trust and obedience in exchange for a cloak of protection and steady orders. Nao is an admirer that doesn't hang back and marvel from a distance or seek boons like the others; someone who purely wants to be of use to her in whatever capacity. She-like Kenki- is one of those selfless and splintered people, who suffer in silence because they believe it is not their right to do otherwise.

Oki Tachibana draws such people to her like moths. She's confident and relentless and merciless when they cannot be; she forces when they would relent, pushes herself, pushes them, pushes things into existence. Nao with her sweet, expressionless face and soft, whispering voice could not have ripped herself away from the allure of being the Oki Tachibana's ghost, even if she wanted to.

And Oki Tachibana, like all humans, derives a twisted pang of satisfaction from indulging the mild masochism.

She can never tire of people like Nao and Kenki Tachibana, because she will never stop failing them. There will always be hidden disappointments and hurts in their eyes, there will always be words that they wished they had said to her lingering on their lips. She can never reach the maxim capacity of their relationship as she has already done with clever, self-serving Hajime Oda. She will never feel like she doesn't _have_ to reach that maxim capacity as she does with furious, determined Zabuza Momochi.

But Nao is not Kenki Tachibana, they may be cut from the same cloth but they are sewn differently.

The first time Oki realises this is during an uncharacteristic slip of attention. She, Nao and Hajime Oda are huddled in a corner of the Academy's Dining Hall, a small army of other students mapped out and lingering near the nexus of Oki's inner circle. The food is refreshingly hot today, a change that is welcome but would have been more appreciated during those dead months of Winter rather than the dregs of it.

Nao burns her tongue on the boiling filling of the bun and reflexively releases her hold on the meal. It slipped but Oki's hand shot out to catch it before it was ruined.

"There," she murmured bluntly.

She passed the bun back out into Nao's small, waiting fingers and then without really thinking about it, ruffled the girl's dark hair. Oki tensed. Her hand was still planted atop Nao's head and she blinked, waiting for a shy, blushing smile that…did not come. Nao just silently continues eating her food and Oki suspects she'd have gotten just as much a reaction if she had slapped the girl instead.

"Thank you," Nao whispered, and like everything about her it is soft and nearly empty.

"Yer welcome," Oki had replied.

She hadn't uttered another word for the duration of their lunch.

It's that emptiness that separated Nao from the infallible Kenki Tachibana that Oki has glued and plastered together from impressions left of a boy who suddenly seems so perfect, so golden, with memory. Nao possessed a distance that Kenki would never have. She's there and you can touch her, but Nao is not there. She allows herself to drift. Oki noticed that Nao's eyes are only ever fully focused on the present on those rare few occasions that the girl smiled.

She isn't Kenki Tachibana but she is cut from the same cloth and sewn differently; and it is that which drives Oki to take more notice of her breathing shadow.

She watched the dark skinned girl from the corner of her eye throughout class. Group 1C was a gabble of children who could barely count to twenty or (in most cases) write their own names months ago. At that moment they were roughly moulded troops, writing tactics on how to overcome problems issued when fighting in foreign lands when there isn't a source of water for their water-based Jutsus. Mr Anzai's teaching methods were ruthless and anything but nurturing; but they were effective and that's all Kirigakure needs.

"Who keeps giving you those bruises?"

Nao startled, the question was (as nearly everything Oki said) forthright and somewhat resilient. She'd tried for that feigned nonchalance that Hajime had suggested; but still there is certain intensity in the uncompromising point of Oki's dark eyes.

"Akane and Eiko are leaving ya alone," Oki continues regardless of Nao's uncharacteristic squirming, "so who's hurting ya?"

"Do you want to know because it bothers _me_ or because it bothers_you_?"

It is Oki's turn to be stumped. She answered the only way she knows how, bluntly, "I dunno."

Nao lifted her head from her work to just look at her, _really_ look for a long moment. Oki was unsure what she saw in her or why it even mattered, but a sense of importance presided in the moment nonetheless.

"False hope," Nao finally spoke, "is the first thing you could give to another person, Mr Tachibana."

"I think a kunai to the head is worse," Oki frowned.

Nao smiled smile then her eyes glazed over as they always inevitably would, closing her off from the real world in everything but body. Oki only continued to scowl, her own eyes flashing between the faraway expression on Nao's face and the ring of fingerprint on her wrist.

…

"What's it matter?"

"I dunno," Oki snapped back at Hajime, "it just does, alright?"

The two students spoke between breaths, their legs powered along the still surface of the Academy's cellar pool in time to Mr Anzai's barks. There were no windows in the underground room. The buzzing glow from the militaristic lines of blinking lights above bounce and glitter along the water's surface or from where they've been captured in the small pools of water between the pale tiles that ring the pool. The room always reeks of chlorine, clinical and sharp, cutting into Oki's nose.

With harsh glare of the lights and the way every sneeze, shout and yelling fit Mr Anzai pitches echoes in every empty space; the lowest floor of the Academy has never failed to give her a headache. She relishes the Jutsu practice however.

"Well," Hajime sighed, keeping pace with the rest of the line of students running on water from one end of the pool to the other, "all I'm saying is it's not like you."

"I ain't heartless, Hajime," Oki snarled.

"Whatever you say, Tachibana," he shrugged before grinning in that distinctly fox-like manner of his, "Hey, maybe you aren't_ completely_ oblivious to the charms of a pretty girl after all?"

Oki raised a brow before questioning flatly, "what?"

"I mean you didn't give two shits about her before. Then she's your girlfriend and you're worried 'bout her wellbeing," he snorted, "fat chance. What did she give you? Was it a blowie?"

"A _what_?"

"Y'know a blowie," he sighed then leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "it's when…."

"AH!" she reared back form him, "that's_ vile_! Ya pee comes outta there!"

"TACHIBANA! If I have to spend every waking day listening to your fucking voice," Mr Anzai suddenly boomed across the room, "then you're going to have to spend every waking day crippled! Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!"

They ran in silence for another half an hour, Oki gradually feeling her already small chakra reserves wane under the constant pressure of leaking them into her feet. But at least they're growing she consoled herself, like any muscle they need to be exercised to grow stronger.

Hajime's voice shot into her concentration, "Then why don't you just ask her?"

"Already done that," Oki mutters.

There's a splash of bodies slapping against water as three more of their classmates break under the constant demands of the exercise.

"Course," Hajime chuckled drily, "If she won't tell you anything, just find out for yourself."

Oki mulled it over and fond a certain charm in that idea. A recon mission. An opportunity to test her newfound and budding skills while also acquiring the information she suddenly has a strong taste for.

She turned her head to answer Hajime but the boy is already falling, exhausted, into the clear water beneath them. Oki moved her eyes forward again; running, leaving those who have fallen behind her even as a spluttering Hajime breaks the surface.

…..

Mr Anzai is displeased to see his star pupil lingering in the room after the others have been dismissed. Oki put a conscious effort into ensuring that her posture was as unapologetic as possible and her eyes remained dead-ahead, despite the two holes Mr Anzai is drilling into the side of her face. Her teacher is sure to devise his own imaginary crimes for her; it wouldn't help Oki to_ look_ guilty.

"Why are you still here?" Mr Anzai's tone in accusatory and Oki has to clamp down on a smirk. Skilled though Group 1C's mentor may be, he's anything but unpredictable.

"Waitin' for Nao," she replied.

"That your little girlfriend?"

Oki's somewhat surprised and even bemused, that the Teacher's at the Academy are aware of the ins-and-outs of their student's lives. The title doesn't mean much to Oki; it comes with the same blank factual quality as describing Nao as a girl or a child.

"Yep," she nodded.

Mr Anzai grunted in response. Not once does he remove his eyes from her face as his hand snaked down to the pocketed belt strapped about his broad waist and flicked a small nearly-transparent orange tube into his awaiting hands. It is with particular vehemence that Mr Anzai screws the lid open and rams two tiny white pills into his mouth, far more aggression than the act necessarily needed.

Because she can't stop herself Oki asked, "What're them?"

"Pills," he grunted shortly, "You think I'd be here teaching you little shits how to wipe your own asses if I could be out on the frontlines? _Apparently_ I'm too mentally unsound for active duty. PTSD," he snorts, "among other things…fucking shrinks."

"So," Oki smirked, beyond tickled by this revelation, "they put ya in charge of a group of children?"

Mr Anzai merely glared at her. _Hard_.

"Mr Tachibana," Nao hesitated in the doorway and Oki smoothly rose from her seat and crossed the sparring mats.

"May I ask what you are doing?" Nao manages as Oki begins to gently shove her back through open door.

"I'm following ya home," Oki answered, completely unrepentant about how that may sound to a young girl.

"I see."

She is further surprised to see how close Nao's lodgings were to her own. How many times, Oki could not help but wonder, had she passed Nao on these streets without noticing her presence? A turn that is the only alteration to her route; she can even the corrugated shape of the warehouse from where she stood, the light of the dying sunset arching out through the mist and painting oranges across the soft lines of Nao's face.

The alleyway is grottier and noisier than most, three washing lines strung up between one of the circular, grey turrets and its opposite neighbour dripped cold water into the street below. Shacks of water-warped wood fill the gaps in exhausted shambles; the floor was dirt cracked by the cold weather and the occupants nothing but mangy-eared stray dogs and the inebriated ballads of drunks. Nao's 'home' is both the apex of the alleyway and just another faucet tucked into its grimy collage. Red silks (the finest materials Oki has ever seen) caked at the bottom with dirt loll their crimson tongues out of the mouth of the slit-like window, the door is shouldered either side by gaudy bead-fringed lanterns and a sign written in curling, kitschy letters proclaims a 'den' of some kind.

It looks how the greedy man thinks extravagance should.

Women's laughter barrels out of the window occupied by the cloying scent of perfume and undercurrents of human sweat. Oki wrinkled her nose. The entire building and the very atmosphere around it feels messy to her; she wants nothing more than to wrest control, cleave it into neat, efficient order and _scrub_ the entire scene clean.

"The hell is this place?" she doesn't know but something about it makes her feel dirty.

"It is a brothel," Nao answered, without a single difference in her whispery tone, "My mother works here."

"And ya dad?" Oki eyed the building as if it were yet another task for her to overcome.

"Is unknown to me. Does this satisfy your curiosity?"

Oki darted her eyes towards Nao. The girl's scrutiny is as bland and empty as before, but still she keeps to Oki's side as if she cannot bear to leave it, as if it is the only thing keeping her anchoring in a street that smells of cheap women's perfume and the distasteful vulgarity of the life it tries to hide.

"Nope," Oki shook her head, "I dunno what a brothel means."

"They did not have them where you are from?" Nao asked.

"Nope."

"I see," that is all Nao answered with, because Oki can read it in the way she stands and the tiny hunch of her shoulders, she does not want to explain it.

Why does she care?

Why does she care whether Nao suffocates her talents or lives in a place where she had no other option but to retreat into her mind from the world outside it? Nao is steadfastly loyal and she does not persist for answers and favours like Hajime and the others, but Nao still demands so much from her. And Oki could not be who she has found herself to be within Kirigakure if she did not give it.

Sometimes (often, maybe) Oki doesn't feel loyalty to people, not in the way others do, not in the ways she _should_. Concepts and actions are things Oki will remain loyal to, the decisions of people, not the people themselves although the two overlap and blend into one another common enough. But Nao is…an ally. And she has so few that she trusts.

It may be the Kirigakure Shinobi Unity leaking through into Oki's thought process but she suddenly felt a fierce determination to set order to what was evidently the mess of Nao's life. She doesn't wonder if she is justified or if her efforts are even welcome; though the two girls have known each other for weeks now Oki knows as well as Nao that the latter belongs to the former. You don't own a friend but you own an ally. And Oki is unwilling to allow anything in her care to fall to ruin.

"C'mon," she huffed, gripping Nao's sleeve and tugging her from the street.

"Where are we going?" Nao sounds surprised and then even more so at the amount of emotion in her voice.

"Ya goin' to the same orphanage as Hajime, he'll keep an eye on ya. So he don't upset me, if for nothing else," onwards through the winding streets she drags Nao, "I shoulda gone there at first, there should be an open place for someone called Tachibana. Tell 'em that's ya surname, alright?"

Nao paused, faltering at the very brink of the street. Her face was even softer in the afternoon glow and tendrils of mist, soft, watery eyes, sincere. Oki was almost forced to look away from the raw vulnerability she sees there, in the magnitude of gratefulness that _poured_ out of Nao. She looked ethereal then but not because she was pretty, because she was innocent and Oki felt as if she were sullying something just by looking at her. But she doesn't, she squared her jaw and braced.

"Why are you doing this?" Nao's voice teetered on the plea that this not be false and a fear for that very same reason.

"I…" Oki smirked, "I dunno."

And they left it at that, Oki tugging Nao through the streets by the hand in silence.

When she gets back to the bolthole that night, she was exhausted; a deep ache that wormed its way into Oki's bones and stagnated in every inch of her skin. She felt _soul_-tired. Aiding Nao did not make her feel accomplished or reaffirmed anything in her life. It only reminded her of all those people who slipped through the cracks, and she is weary of and incensed by their helplessness.

Zabuza asked and Oki replied in dead-eyed tones. Kirigakure and the future here looked so bright from across that strip of water; still looked bright when Oki was standing amid a sea of congratulations and achievements. It is so easy to forget what lingers behind the promotional posters and what the streets of Kirigakure_really _smell like until she is dragged back down to those levels again.

She is not human in either of those moments.

Or at least as far away from it as Oki Tachibana can be at that age. Zabuza eventually tired of her listless responses and kicked a foot out at her ankle, jarring her from her thoughts. He threw a can at her hand, which she fortunately snatched from the air, before beginning his triad about how he managed to evade the clutches of the street vendor he stole it from. Zabuza's voice, rough and frayed at the edges, fills the empty spaces in the room and Oki's mind. Here, she is_ human_.

Or at least as close to it as Oki Tachibana can be at that age.

**A/N:**

**Shorter chapter because there'll be a time skip next chapter and I wanted to end it here.**

**Review Replies:**

**SadisticAvocado: Obligatory praise is appreciated my good sir/madam ;) I won't go into detail but Nao will be important to Oki later on, she's far less selfish in her friendship with Oki and that will have an effect (I think I can get away with saying that much)**

**CreepyNick1: Thanks for the review! And yeah, Mr Anzai knows what gender Oki is, he just doesn't give a shit about everyone else being confused XD**

**Luna Covey: Thank you very much for such a lovely review, I'm glad you like Oki's character so far :)**

**TurtleBiscuit: Hopefully this should state some Nao curiosity, and Nao will have be a larger part of Oki's life on. Thanks for the review!**

**World Aqua Marine: You pretty much got Hajime with the information gathering, I knows it's horrible but I tend to think of him like a parasite, living off the bigger players and using them to keep him safe while he himself doesn't get hurt. Which is probably the smartest way to survive if you're an orphan in the Bloody Mist. There's a ton more clues about Zabuza's past in this chapter (which I'm really enjoying making up since they don't give him one in Naruto). Thanks for the review!**

**THANK YOU to everyone who's reading, favourited and followed this!**


	10. 10: That Momochi Boy

**A/N: Trigger Warning: mentions of child abuse in this chapter.**

That Momochi Boy.

It was the fringe of Summer before things really started gaining momentum for Oki Tachibana.

Winter and the Spring had passed in a sludge, time stretching itself along its belly like taffy being pulled. When the Winter had passed and the students of Group 1C had finally reached Oki's standing level, new lessons had been introduced. And these new lessons heralded a dive in what had been Oki's previous over-achieving results.

It was all in the search of perfection.

While the other students (with the exception of abnormally loyal Nao, who would stay and silently wait until Oki had completed the exercise) could powerhouse through the material; Oki would without a doubt linger until her performance had reached a satisfactory level. The Bokken Mr Anzai introduced had often left marks on Oki's arms, legs and face as the students parried her rudimentary attacks with sloppily executed advanced techniques, techniques Oki refused to attempt until she had refined the basics.

It was hard going for Mr Anzai and Oki both. Their teacher was so accustomed to Oki being the student he could rely on to carry the class through, was incensed by her sudden turn in behaviour. Oki meanwhile watched as the infamy she had so carefully cultivated began to dwindle, Hajime straying from her side and those groups asking for advice or attention meandering away towards the next new thing. Spring had not been a good season for her. Even Zabuza was uncharacteristically considerate of the frustration permeating the air around her; meaning, of course, the scathing comments were a little less biting than usual and he acquiesced to the more rigorous training practices Oki pushed them through.

It was a festering brand of frustration Oki suffered that spring through, the type that sharpened internal edges and only flaunted itself to the outside world in the twitching of her jaw or flexing of the muscles in her shoulders. Her previous intimidating reputation had kept the jeers at bay but still Oki could feel herself fading from the memories of those around her. Nao remained steadfast, Zabuza's company had never been brought with shallow displays of heroics to begin with, but people did not part in the corridors for Oki Tachibana that Spring. And it unnerved her.

It brought about an old fear, a childish one she'd kept in her breast during her younger childhood in Nishihama. The fear of mediocrity. A fear of being forgotten, ignored, _irrelevant_ dogged at Oki's heels. It made her spars with her classmates that much more ruthless, her attention to her work that much more obsessive and her partnership with Nao that much more demanding. Only Zabuza Momochi, it seemed, was unwilling to bend to the driving intensity Oki swaddled herself in over the rainy months of spring. He told her (often and harshly) that she was being an asshole when she snapped at him about messing up the neat stacks of her Tag templates, and he thumped her on the head often when she attempted push him harder than he was willing to go.

Despite the surge of vexation with Zabuza's stubborn behaviour, another level of Oki was grateful that Zabuza Momochi's comradeship was not so easily bought or lost like the rest of her peers. She respected him for that, for a lack of fickle nature and the frivolity that Oki had watched her classmates participate in with disdain when she was feeling particularly bitter. When compared to the other children Zabuza was set, he was sharp still but the boy was more likely to break than bend for something he felt strongly about. As with most things when regarding the Momochi boy, some days Oki felt that such unwavering determination deserved only respect and other days only a firm smack round the back of the head. But both responses were tinged with a familiarity, a sense of understanding that she hadn't felt or alternatively bothered to seek out with someone before.

Zabuza Momochi was not a list of characteristics and actions stripped down in Oki's eyes like binary code; he _breathed_ and he_lived_ and he _refused_ to accept any other description than that. He was neither sympathetic nor mocking to Oki's struggle through late winter and the months of spring, he didn't help her unless he too was gaining from the action but he wouldn't shun her either. It was this that gave Oki some stability throughout that period, knowing that even if her larger-than-life image at the Academy was marred beyond all recognition, Zabuza Momochi's company would not be lost to her afterwards because Zabuza Momochi had never seen her as that image all along.

Summer came in a bundle of three changes. The first being the abrupt departure of those icy winds that had traced frozen fingers throughout Kirigakure in the winter months then persisted with barred teeth throughout the spring. Instead Oki found that Kirigakure's summer consisted of capricious bouts of humid heat and driving rain, the mist more steam when backlit by watery sunshine and skies of intermingled blue and orange. This gave the sombre and steely environment of Kirigakure a completely different atmosphere. It was one of almost perpetual dawns and dusks; the day or night in between only seeming to last scant hours while the bookends of both seemed to unroll out into the remaining time.

The second was arrival of the theatres that began popping up in most of Kirigakure's districts. These establishments were owned and funded by an ex-Jounin who, upon returning from the frontlines, had realised that the population of his Village were more concerned with forgetting their troubles than remedying them. The theatres were not designed to cater to the upper classes. The plays were simple during the day, good vs evil and themes such as Duty and Village Loyalty played out again and again and again. At night, the plays and their actors were far more scantily dressed or in the later hours no longer dressed at all. They served copious amounts of snacks and alcohol, the floors sticky with spilt Sake and popcorn wedged between the floorboards. It was these that Oki Tachibana and Zabuza Momochi stole themselves into, huddled up in the rafters and calling out for a swift execution of the villain. They used red silk for spilt blood and the unflawed for their heroes. These were simpler to grasp than moral complexities of the Village both the children lived in during the war. The shades of grey were swept away in the cheering of the audience, the victims always creatures of a good-heart and prevailing intentions and the antagonists of the tale always introduced with ominous music and a vile disposition.

The third, and arguably most important, was the comeback of Oki as Class 1C's idol. Oki's progress was charted in a graph of falling and rapid rising. This attention to detail was a double-edged sword, it took far longer for Oki to complete the material than her peers but when she did the results were leagues ahead of them. Oki's own return to fame was so swift that those months where her reputation had waned considerably were all but overlooked. Her classmates had a 'hero' again and it was not in a hero's nature to be hurt by their previous shift in loyalties. Oki knew this, knew how quickly her audience could tire of their heroes and drag them down to villains. She knew and yet…she could not shake off the need to become immortal in their eyes. It frustrated her, this desire for recognition for her talents from people that she did not respect, that she did not in most cases even remember beyond names and faces.

In the end; whether or not Oki's drive for acknowledgment existed, the eyes of her peers would be fixed upon her all the same. Even the teachers were beginning to watch, taking note of the Group C student steadily clawing her way up the Year Rankings. The further she climbed, the denser the pressure became and the harder the fall would be. She watched as things were taken from her reach, the prospect of friends and a choice in her future, while new things were forced into her way, more opportunities and renown. Oki did not exist in the Academy, she was not needed or desired, her weakness and habits and dreams irrelevant in the eyes of her admirers. But Tachibana did, he was the one needed to act as a point of unmoving confidence.

All of this culminated in a shift in the relationship between Oki and Zabuza. There was only one place in Kirigakure that both could be themselves, air those thoughts and faults without thinking of the consequences (a reprieve from the weak-willed people Zabuza had to put up with on a daily basis for him, and a reprieve from the 'Tachibana' moniker Oki had projected at the Academy for her) . A co-dependency was born, one neither were ever comfortable with acknowledging never mind underlining to the other.

"Can't ya _do_ something about them?" Zabuza muttered, throwing another glare at the gaggle of girls who shrieked, giggled and hid themselves behind the nearest corner.

"Like what?" Oki replied, shifting slightly to stare blandly at the aforementioned following.

"I dunno," he shrugged, "Throw a bunch of rocks at 'em or something, they're really pissing me off."

"What?" Oki smirked, "I can't help bein' a popular guy."

"There's so many things wrong with that sentence," Zabuza mumbled.

The pair were heading towards the nearest communal well, shirts tied about their waists and wiry frames airing in the moist heat that permeated Kirigakure in the summer. The mist curling about in sunset colours of golds and oranges was sticky against their skin and in their throats, shadows long between the foreboding spirals of Kirigakure architecture and sunlight glinted back from silverware hung on wire by street vendors. The rains had died down, and with it came the need to collect their water from one of the communal wells. These wells were always surrounded by skinny-ribbed children, panting like overheated dogs and clustered around the opening with possessive eyes.

Oki only laughed at Zabuza's reply and hitched the metal of the water bucket higher on her shoulder.

"I'm serious, Oki," Zabuza glared at her, "I swear every time ya come out for water, them lot swoop down on us like bloody crows."

"That's an interestin' mental image," Oki muttered.

Zabuza snorted. He reached back to scratch idly at one of the many healed over red marks pulled across his back, marks Oki had watched with fascination upon first seeing them. Zabuza's replying glare had been scalding (far more malicious than usual) but Oki had merely blinked unapologetically back at him, swallowing the questions but not her scrutiny.

"Hang on a sec," she palmed her bucket off to Zabuza when the whispering and giggling drew closer, "I'll tell 'em to go home."

"Tell 'em to stop stalking ya!" Zabuza called as she jogged off, "It ain't healthy!"

"Your face ain't healthy!" Oki called back with a laugh.

"Yeah, well, least mine don't look like a butt!"

"Course mine does!" Oki grinned, "It's so I don't have to look at ya ugly mug!"

Zabuza scowled and threw her a very pointed hand gesture that aptly summed up his response to that comment. Oki's grin grew as she waved him off and rounded the corner the girls were peeking from.

"Oh! Er, Tachibana!" Eiko spluttered, "Didn't know you were here, right girls?"

"Right," came the chorused response, more than a few eyes lingering on Oki's tall, wiry torso.

"Yeah, I am," Oki slipped her hands into her pockets and worked to adopt the nonchalant posture Hajime had schooled her on, "I gotta get some water."

"I've got running water at my place!" Sada (a girl from Group 1B whose gifts of home-baked cookies had become a weekly occurrence) volunteered but wilted under the glares of her fellow fan-club members.

"Nah," Oki shook her head, "I prefer getting it myself."

"Oh," Akane enthused, "That's so admirable."

Conversation at that point seemed to have fizzled out, as the girls not only understood but decided to ignore Oki's frankly pointed look. Just as she sighed and ran a hand through her slicked hair (an action that garnered a rally of muffled gasps), ready to tell her fan club to get going, Eiko leapt in.

"Who's that boy?" she smiled sweetly, eyes darting from Oki to a scowling Zabuza collecting water, with a bird-like interest that was entirely Eiko's.

"Huh?" Oki leaned back then for reasons unknown to herself, shifted forward to effectively block the girl's view of Zabuza, "He's a friend."

"A friend?" Akane mumbled.

It was only then that Oki realised her slip in her immediate answer. She'd never vocally (or otherwise) classed someone as a friend before. Nao was introduced as a girlfriend, Hajime was perfectly willing to introduce himself and others had enthused to have such a connection to her but with no validation from Oki. It was a word that tasted odd in her mouth, too big and clumsy for the lean inner circle Oki had fostered at the Academy, and too intimate for the 'cool' persona she had been labelled.

"Look, it's nothing alright?" Oki managed, irritation and a strange awkwardness overtaking her limbs and her thoughts as the girls' study of Zabuza grew more intrusive.

She reached out a hand to Eiko's shoulder and moved her backwards; her eyes instantly snapped up to Oki's and a blush spread from one ear to the other.

"He just lives by me is all," Oki jerked her head back towards where they came, "You girls should head home, it'll be dark soon."

"O-okay Tachibana," Eiko replied in a daze.

"Alright," Oki nodded and grinned, "See ya all tomorrow."

"Bye Tachibana!" they chorused then disappeared in a flurry of excited whispers and behind-their-shoulder-glances.

Oki waited till the last of them was gone before jogging back over to where Zabuza was roughly shouldering children (bigger and smaller than himself impartially) out of the way. The eight year old did not look happy.

"Took ya bloody time," Zabuza snarled, "what the hell did they want? An autograph?"

"Nah," Oki cracked a muscle in her shoulder, "Hajime made me give them out on Tuesday."

Zabuza just screwed his face up, beyond perplexed as to why she bothered with it all.

"Here," he shoved the bucket into Oki's bare chest, "start filling."

"Jeez, Zabuza, keep ya knickers on," Oki smirked.

"Maybe ya should start giving them out on Tuesdays instead," Zabuza muttered but there was a definite twitching at his lips as Oki laughed.

"Why?" Oki grinned, all sharp teeth and sharp humour, "ya gonna lend me some of yours?"

Zabuza snorted and punched her in the shoulder, "Shut up, ya ready to go?"

"Eh? Rock, paper, scissors first!" she protested.

"What's the point, _I_ always win anyways," Zabuza retorted with as much masculine pride as he could fit into his small, child's body.

Oki only glared, certain that Zabuza was employing some method of witch craft on that account, "that's awfully cocky, Momochi."

"Pot. Kettle. Black," Zabuza thrust his closed fist out, "I'm only doing it once."

"Alright," Oki conceded, mimicking Zabuza's pose as they began the countdown.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

"THREE!"

"ROCK!"

"SCISSORS!"

Oki glared at her own fingers then directed another particularly heated glare at Zabuza's closed fist and smug expression. She shouldered the bucket again, grumbling as she slipped over the edge of the well and into the damp darkness within. The air inside the well seemed to breathe with Oki; it was a world away from the heat and noise above it, a place full of forgotten, moulding things. She plonked to the bottom with the barest disturbance of water, feet already covered in chakra and long arms already reaching down to scoop water into the bucket. The sweat cooled on her body, leaving only mild shivers trickling along her spine.

"Hey Zabuza!" Oki called up, if only to remind her that he was still waiting at the top.

"What?" he yelled back.

"Ya think if I pushed ya down here, you'd puff up like one o' those angry cats?"

Her reply came in the form of Zabuza hurling the second bucket down at her head, fortunately Oki managed to snag it before it made contact even jiggling the handle at Zabuza in a taunting manner. She filled the second bucket and hoisted both onto her shoulders, turned an assessing look towards the wall then sprinted up out the well. Zabuza gripped her arms as she came into view and hauled her into safety.

"The hell, Oki?" Zabuza growled as her foot found purchase and she kicked back onto the floor again, "Stop running outta there like a mad man!"

"Stop winning at Rock, Paper, Scissors then," Oki replied, nonplussed, "Ya cheat."

"I ain't cheating!" Zabuza snapped, "Look, ya shithead, you're getting water everywhere!"

Suddenly feeling mischievous, Oki glanced at Zabuza then the bucket then Zabuza again. He caught on too slowly, the horror dawning in his eyes and the shout on his tongue just as Oki upended bucket and water on his head.

"Oki!" Zabuza roared, grasping for the other bucket and taking her laughing fit as an opportunity to give her a likewise treatment. She spluttered, still laughing as her and Zabuza wrestled with matching shark-toothed grins.

"Alright, piss off, piss off," Zabuza threw her back, panting for breath in between the laughter, "ya need to go back down now."

She shrugged, flicking his bucket with a metallic 'ding', dodging the kick he aimed at her shins and slipping over the lip of the well again. She'd been gone no less than five seconds before she was popping up again, the cool dampness of the well barely kissing her skin before she crested into the humid air outside again. Oki planted her arms on the sun-warmed stone and rested her chin on her interlaced fingers, watching Zabuza grumble and curse with dark eyes.

"Hey, Zabuza?" she called.

The boy startled; clearly unaware that Oki had been there.

"Yeah," he muttered, "What is it?"

She only continued to watch him a moment longer, nearly anyone else would have flinched under the intensity in the nine year old's stare as she regarded him. She took note of that same greyish pallor of his skin, the small eyes and stubborn jaw, the frame that was both skinny and stocky at once, the short spikey hair and the undaunted, intimidated presence about him.

"Do ya think we're friends?" Oki finally voiced.

Zabuza stiffened, "friends?"

"Yeah," Oki replied bluntly.

"….I," he scowled, "I dunno, shut up, don't ask stupid questions."

Oki grinned, "I'll take that as a yes then."

"Ya think ya so bloody smart, Oki," Zabuza growled but she'd already slipped into the dark again.

….

Like with all persons of interest a rival was needed.

"No."

"C'mon, Tachibana," Hajime whined, "you've gotta give the people want they want."

'I think he's given enough,' Nao thought bitterly, eyeing the groups as that stared and whispered as they passed through the halls. As per usual she occupied the space to Oki's left while Hajime jittered around her feet on her right, the crowds parting as Group 1C made their way back from the Swimming Pool Floor.

Attention had always been something Nao determinately avoided. Attention usually meant that her face had reminded an adult of that whore he'd seen the other night and brought about musings of whether or not Nao was willing to sell her body and dignity for a handful of coins too. She knew how low people could go when they were presented with no consequences and a shrugged acceptance of their actions by their peers. She knew that 'honour'-_true _honour-meant very little when they thought they could get away with it.

She had been born into and had lived in a world of men 'getting away with it'. Her life had been bleeding out like this: Her fingers pressed into her ears while some fat, black-toothed Shinobi took his frustrations out on her mother. The owner of the Whore house's fingers on her shoulder like spider legs, tangling her up, sucking the life out and trapping her in the web he had made for the poor and desperate.

Until Tachibana came.

Until he had pulled her free with no asking price, no false sympathies and charity. There, Nao believed, she had seen that there was some small measure of true honour left in the world. Now, the web she had given herself to had dark, intelligent eyes and an overwhelming intensity.

"I don't need one," Oki said, "I've gotta concentrate on what I'm doing, I don't give a toss about starting some fight with someone."

"I thought starting fights was what you excelled at," Hajime grumbled.

Nao shot him a scathing look from behind Oki's back, a promise of future pain if anymore negatives were said about Oki's disposition in her presence. She wouldn't stand for it. Tachibana may be above those that whispered about him but she was not. How _dare_ they? How dare they demand more from him? Hajime was the worst in Nao's opinion, leeching from Oki's fame but all too ready to abandon him when it looked like the favour was turning.

"Alright, alright," Hajime quelled under Nao's glare, "No pointless fights I got it…_but_-"

"No," Oki shot him down before he could get a word in edgeways.

"Hear me out," Hajime raised his hands in a placating manner, "would it be such a waste of time if it was someone from Group A?"

Oki paused and Nao stopped alongside him.

"Group A?" Oki mused. There was no fear in his voice of course, Tachibana was afraid of very little. It was another reason so many flocked to him. He always seemed confident, always seemed in control, even when she had felt so terrified of him thinking less of her Tachibana had approached the problem with ease. He lived for these challenges, and each time he conquered one Nao could feel the very core of him swelling as if it were feeding him. But Nao _was_ scared. She was scared for _him_.

"Do you think it's wise to antagonise the Clan Kids, Hajime?" she questioned in a bland tone, "It is Mr Tachibana who will suffer the consequences after all."

Her tone was blank, her face blank but her eyes said 'I will skin you alive if Tachibana is hurt because of your idiotic plans'.

"Erm," Hajime glanced from her then to Oki, "I dunno if _wise_ is the right word, _but _it is a challenge. No one from Group C has ever gone against a Clan Kid before."

Hajime shrugged and smirked, and Nao's hand twitched to wipe his cunning little face across the floor, "but no one from Group C's ever gotten into the top twenty of the Year Rankings before."

"What about Hoshigaki?" Nao interjected, trying desperately to keep the inane idea from taking root in Oki's mind.

"What about him?" Hajime shrugged again but she could see the gears whirring behind his eyes.

"Kisame Hoshigaki was from Group C years previous and yet he managed to reach the number one spot on the Year's Rankings," Nao recited.

"Oh?" Oki looked to her and Nao felt the hairs on her arms rise at the address, "That right, Nao?"

Her name was blunt on his tongue, something sure and strong for a change, an effect that Nao felt rushing from her feet to her cheeks with warmth.

"That is correct, Mr Tachibana," she answered and wished she had the courage to call him by his first name.

_Tachibana. _Nao had always liked oranges and now she had an even greater appreciation. Like Oki, they were sharp and unapologetic, stronger than any average fruit and so much more vibrant in the bowl. She almost mentally berated herself for that analysis. Now she was comparing him to _fruit_. She wasn't exactly sure when the admiration she felt had dug into her so powerfully but she was never even exactly sure what she was thinking anymore. The world she had lived in before had been stripping her away piece by piece until Nao had decided to stare out at it with blind eyes, sound the retreat and huddle up in a tiny corner of her head that wasn't occupied by the cloying smell of perfume and the dead-eyed gaze of her mother and the other whores. But now, now that the world was slowly seeping in again everything seemed that much more painfully bright.

And Tachibana was the brightest thing there, almost blinding to Nao stumbling about in her surroundings and caught up in his orbit. When had Tachibana become the first face she searched for in a crowd, the voice she listened for in the silence and the first person she always thought of when taking something into consideration? How and why had this happened to her? And even though Tachibana filled her with breath that was just as emptying as it was filling, why did she never want to leave his company?

"Nao?" Oki blinked at her.

She flustered, hands gripping at her sleeves as she belatedly realised that she'd been staring.

"I apologise, Mr Tachibana," Nao bowed her head, "I did not mean to stare."

"No harm done," Tachibana's reply was cool as always, but detached. It was how he always spoke to those around him, sure and confident and candid but always three steps away from them all.

A shoulder barged into Nao's (unlikely Eiko, a spar between the two girls in one of the classes during Spring had been particularly vicious and Nao could admit some form of satisfaction when she remembered crushing the girl's head into the floor) and threw her off balance. Before she could so much as teeter Oki, ever-observant, snaked a hand out and firmly gripped her shoulders. His arms were so long and his hands so fine-boned that Nao could feel the heat of his body blanketing the span of her shoulders like a cape. She blushed, trying desperately to kick her brain into coherent thought again.

Oki was having none of the trouble she was. He simply set her on her feet and continued on as if nothing happened.

"I'll think 'bout it," he murmured to Hajime, "…maybe. But I don't see much point for it right now."

Nao wanted to protest, wanted to force Hajime into reconsidering his offer because didn't he see how much pressure Oki was constantly under. But he didn't care, people like Hajime wouldn't. It was up to Nao to protect Tachibana as much as she possibly could.

She wouldn't allow Oki to fail, she would make him proud of her and maybe one day he would look at her and that distance would no longer exist.

"No point in it," Hajime whispered to himself before giving both Oki and Nao a beaming smile, "Alright, Tachibana, that's all I asked."

Oki snorted, opening the door to the classroom as he did so, "there's never an 'all I ask' with you Hajime."

"Yeah," Hajime smirked, bringing up the rear as they filed into the classroom, "but that's why you keep me around, Tachibana."

Nao said nothing but she could feel Hajime Oda's eyes burrowing into her back throughout the rest of the day.

…

The wood groaned underneath their weight as they swung themselves up onto the beam. The air was hotter up here, stifled and golden hued with the sounds of voices and moving feet, smells of people and baked goods and timber.

Zabuza Momochi liked it up in the rafters; he was away from the crowd below without_ hiding _from them. The theatre was packed, breathing with bodies and the smell of musk. Dust motes hung suspended in the air and illuminated by the dying light of the afternoon even as ratty looking boys weaved below to light the candles at the edge of the stage. A backdrop of Kirigakure Mountains painted in solemn shades of blues and greys ornamented the stage, but besides that the area was quite bare. The people were the decorations, rows of merchants and raggedy-dressed families with squealing kids and grumbling elders and clusters of shop-owners laughing loudly at some bad joke one of them had told.

"I heard that they're all dudes," Oki spoke from beside him, neatly breaking her bun apart with dirty fingers and stuffing the sweet into her mouth, "Guys have to play the girls and stuff."

"Explains why the _princesses_ are always so damn ugly," Zabuza snorted.

Oki smirked, breaking off his half of their finds and passing it into his fingers.

"It would," she nodded, "but it don't explain why the princes are so damn ugly too."

He grinned.

The noise dimmed to a low buzz as the protagonist took the stage, decked out in gaudy costume robes and his pale neck weighed down plastic beads. Zabuza and Oki quietened, only murmuring to one another now and then about this event or this character or whatever plot twist they'd predicted beforehand. Zabuza watched the play unfold over-exaggerated in its people and beliefs and themes, and felt a sense of ease instiled within him, of familiarity. He knew the lines of Oki's face by now, knew exactly how much air she filled in the space next to him, how many times she'd run her hand through her light blue hair with excitement or irritation and the exact timbre of her husky voice. It had been months that they'd been in each other's company and so many hours of that reaching the culmination that despite whatever new information or changes occurred to them both, they _knew_ each other.

It was an odd sensation.

To know someone and still count them a friend. And although Oki often frustrated the living daylights out of him, he'd not had a connection with someone until she'd turned up that actually benefited him. Not just his situation but this sense of safety and momentum in his threadbare life, he knew that they could just keep bouncing off one another, gaining speed, building things or even a simple confirmation that they were not entirely alone, that they were not entirely just another faceless mass in the crowd.

Zabuza scowled and snorted. It sounded sentimental and ridiculous, and he'd never been a fan of either. But…she _was_ his friend and perhaps because of who she was and who he was, sentimental and ridiculous didn't fit the description.

"Oi," Oki nudged her shoulder against his, "Ya zoning out again."

"I don't 'zone out'," Zabuza frowned, "I was thinking."

"Ya don't do much of _that_ either," Oki smirked at him before nodding in the direction of the stage, "But whatever, ya were _thinking _so hard ya missed the end."

Zabuza blinked, snapping his head towards the stage he noticed that the actors were all now taking their bows and their audience were slowly rising to their feet. He didn't enjoy being caught unaware (not that it happened often) and he didn't much appreciate Oki's smirk either. He shrugged it off despite the sting to his pride and began manoeuvring himself down the beam. Oki plopped soundlessly onto the floorboards behind him, following his lead as he shoved and barged and snarled people out of the way.

"So what did I miss anyway?" he muttered to Oki who was in comparison cleanly snaking about the mass of bodies.

"Not much," she shrugged, hands in her stupid jacket, "The Shinobi Dude killed that Kumogakure Tyrant, saved the princess, prince and princess got married and the Shinobi guy was a hero for all time."

"The usual then," Zabuza muttered, "man, I dunno why we go to these."

"'Cause it's fun," Oki replied bluntly, "plus the fight scenes are great."

An unintended spot in the rows of wooden block stools caught Zabuza's eye, a small group of coins and a ceramic bottle left unguarded glinted in the sunlight and beckoned him in. If whoever it was was stupid enough to leave all that, Zabuza figured they were just begging to get robbed. Besides if they could afford to blow money on the sickly sweet wine served here, then clearly he and Oki needed the money more than they did.

"Wait here a sec," he whispered to Oki before hurtling towards the table.

Zabuza hastily scooped the finds into his pockets, back hunched over the leftovers and posture defensive, ready to ward off anymore would-be vultures. The entire theft was quick and Zabuza was sure enough in his abilities to turn towards a speedy getaway without eyeing his surroundings first.

Not for the first time, Zabuza Momochi found his efforts foiled by his own self-confidence.

"Hey!" a meaty hand, palms slick with sweat and seeping through the thin material of his shirt, clamped down onto Zabuza's shoulder, "What the hell do you think you're doing, kid!"

Zabuza froze, that old fear rising up. He knew the man behind him was not his father, knew that the voice and chubby build of his body was so unlike his fathers had been and even if they had been similar there was no way in hell Zabuza's father would _ever_ be grabbing at his shoulders again. Logically, he _knew_ all this but at that moment with the larger shadow at his back and the cage of fingers locking him into place, Zabuza was not thinking logically.

He snarled, body accustomed to the daily spars between himself and Oki moving in response to the urge of threat. Zabuza's hand locked around the man's meaty fingers while his body spun to bring the heel of his other hand slamming into the arm's outstretched arm, cracking on the knotty elbow. The man howled, the sound jostling the crowd around them into action as they attempted to rush themselves away from the danger. Without breathing, without really seeing the man who was in front of him at that moment but seeing another face at another time, Zabuza flicked his leg up and whipped it into the man's ribs. **Hard**.

A blow exploded against the side of Zabuza's face, sending splinters of pain bursting into his head as he stumbled backwards into the stools behind him.

"That little shit just broke Takeshi's arm!"

A kick scuffed the wood by Zabuza's feet; he was only able to clumsily push himself over the back of the stool, landing heavy on the floor between the two rows and shakily trying to pull himself to his feet. His head was throbbing, slipping about him and making it hard to focus. The other man went for him again but a blur of black and blue collided into his side and threw them both to the ground. Oki burst in a wash of cold water making the man splutter and blink with the double effect of her grapple and subsequent explosion.

"Water Clone?" Zabuza mumbled groggily.

"Yep," suddenly Oki was behind him, hands under his armpits as she heaved him to his feet, "we need to get outta here."

Zabuza locked his jaw. He'd started this and he wasn't about to run away now. When she tugged his shirt, he kept his feet planted. He wasn't running away again, he was not going to run away ever again. He could take them, there were four men already circling but Zabuza was certain that they could take them. If he just scampered off now like a scared rat then what would that make him?

She scowled, "Don't be such a-oof."

Her head jerked back as a jowly, moustached man behind them wrapped a hand in the hair at the crown of her head and _yanked_. Zabuza moved a step forward and fist curled at his side before ramming it into the man's stomach. The man instantly relaxed his grip and doubled over, giving Oki perfect opportunity to uppercut the man in the face while Zabuza brought a roundhouse kick swinging into the back of his head. The man crumpled, a full grown man they'd both brought down.

Zabuza grinned, his blood singing and chest thundering in tempo with his triumph.

A shake brought him sharply back down.

Oki looked furious, "What the hell are ya doing? We need to get outta here!"

"Whatever," Zabuza shook her off, grin stretching across his face again, "Did ya just see what we did? We kicked that guy's ass!"

"Yeah," she scowled, "and right now my heads ringing. Ya think those other guys are gonna go so easy if one of us slips up?"

She didn't give him time to answer, slapping away a hand reaching for them before bodily dragging them out of the theatre. She did let up, racing through the streets at speeds that made Zabuza's legs ache and the wind cut sharply through his ears. Her movements were focused, completely ignorant to the storm that was stewing behind her. It was only when she'd shoved them both into the bolthole did she release her grip on his arm, throwing it away from her as the barest contact burned.

Zabuza snarled ready to give her a piece of his mind but never managed.

"**Ya moron**!" Oki screamed, "Ya coulda killed us _both_!"

"Ya don't know that!" Zabuza shot back, he was _not_ taking a verbal beating and just keeping his mouth shut about it, "What the hell is the point of all this training and shit, if ya don't use it!"

"_Pointlessly_!" Oki yelled, "I don't use it _pointlessly_, ya dumbass! That whole mess was stupid and messy!"

"Don't call me a dumbass! An' that weren't pointless, that guy thought he could shove me around and I showed him that he can't!"

"Oh yeah? And would he be getting the same message when they'd beaten ya into that floor, huh?"

"I coulda taken them!"

"_Bull_shit!"

Zabuza almost snapped, red flooding his brain as his fist raised but the rush of rage only snapped short with a frustrated yell and the shaking in his arms. Anyone else and he would have hit them, would have smashed the teeth out of their lying mouth. But he just…couldn't.

"Ya just don't get _it_!" he raged, "Ya don't get it at all!"

"Course I don't," Oki scowled, "'cause it's stupid."

"It ain't stupid!" Zabuza spat, glaring balefully at her.

She opened her mouth before growling with frustration, her hands ragging through her hair as the air left her lungs in one furious burst. They just stood there, breathing heavily and avoiding looking at one another as if their lives depended on it. Slowly the atmosphere of the room crept in, the inevitable normality seeping through the torn echo of shouts. It wasn't the first time they'd hurled words at one another, a jest gone too far or a bad day igniting in violent words. And it was unlikely to be the last.

He felt more than saw Oki sigh.

"Look," she whispered, "Just…what the hell was that about?"

Blunt, as usual, Zabuza almost snorted at the frank nature of the question. Anyone else would have tip-toed around it in deference to avoiding opening any unseen wounds, but then again anyone else and Zabuza would have punched them.

Still…did he want to talk to Oki about this?

He didn't know and didn't see the point of finding out. Right now he just needed to bleed it out, drain it away from him for a moment so he could catch his breath. But first, Zabuza's hands fumbled in his pockets for the bottle that remained miraculously unbroken, he needed some reassurance.

"Snagged some wine," he muttered, still avoiding looking at her.

"Huh?" she replied, "what for?"

"Just…"Zabuza turned it over in his hands, transfixed by how something so unexciting could have made such a bloody mess of his childhood, "…just wanted to see what it tasted like."

He levered himself up onto their slit-like half window, legs dangling over the edge and the bottle beside him. The sun was setting over Kirigakure, swathes of golden-pint like draping from between the shadows of the sentinel buildings and sending the mist in curling wisps of white smoke. The shadows were long, casting their window into the cold and ending further up the tower only to pass on behind it. Kirigakure was not a different world in summer, different coat but same old bones.

"Ya coming or not?" Zabuza called over his shoulder.

Oki's elbows appeared on the ledge moments later, flipping herself up onto the flat surface and watching the same scene with a fonder expression that Zabuza's. He ignored the spellbound look in her eyes and instead focused on pulling the cork from the bottle with his teeth. It came free with a soft pop but he just held it there, warming his palms where the fading sunlight could not reach.

"Ya drinking or not?"

He glanced at her once before looking away with the bottle outstretched, "Ya can take first sip if ya so bloody interested."

She smirked, "Well, ya piqued my interest."

Nevertheless she titled the bottle to her lips, Zabuza watching her skinny neck convulse with gulp and her eyebrows knit. He pulled the bottle back after one gulp and sipped at the wine himself. It was sour and unpleasant in the back of his throat, the taste rotten and laced with a vein of electricity that he neither trusted nor liked.

Oki's grin grew as she watched him drink turning into a full blown smile as he pulled the bottle away with a screwed up face.

"Gross, ain't it?" she smiled.

Zabuza laughed, somewhat disbelieving and somewhat relieved, "Yeah…yeah, it tastes like shit."

He pulled a hand to his face and slid it around the back of his neck, a sudden charge of bitter ludicrousness flooded through him. He didn't know what he had expected but it sure as hell hadn't been that. It was disgusting, it didn't have the charm or instant addictive pull that Zabuza thought _must_ have possessed his father. It was…just rotten fruit.

"Man, I can't believe he got so caught up in that," Zabuza breathed, "I can't believe it."

Oki eyed him, bottle to her lips again as if to reaffirm her earlier evaluation. If the scrunching of her nose was any indication, the wine was just as unpleasant.

"Who got caught up in it?" she asked.

"My dad," he answered finding that once the words were in his head they transferred from mouth to open air so easily, "All he ever did was drink shit like that then beat me and my mom like goddamn dogs."

His laugh was dry and dark, "She kept saying that it ain't his fault, that it were the drink and he was _sorry_ but well…never **stopped** him. I tried the drink and I ain't beating the shit outta you. So I think he was just born a nasty bastard."

Zabuza hunched, feeling as if there were eyes poking into him, judging him for what he allowed that man to do for so long, for allowing that man to make him feel so weak and stupid. Like he was nothing. The persistent problem with abuse is that it never stops. Zabuza had moved on, gotten stronger and inexorably continued in the march of time, but still a hand or a voice would catch him now and then and he could almost feel the belt lashing against his back. You don't shake off that deep a fear, never completely.

"So ya killed him," Oki stated in such a factual tone that Zabuza could do nothing but stare at her.

"Aren't ya shocked?" he breathed.

"Nah," she shrugged, "Not really, it ain't difficult to work out when ya put the clues together."

He couldn't bring himself to do anything but stare at her. Most felt pity or disgust; she merely…_noted_ it as if it were nothing but just another part of Zabuza Momochi. Part of him wanted to demand some kind of reaction, why did she get to be so damn different? Why wasn't she as anxious as he was? Why did this _do_ nothing? But then he remembered her confession and it dredged up the question of what did he want her to _do_ about it? Was he waiting for her pity or disgust? No, Oki wouldn't give him a reaction like that and Zabuza wouldn't want it. Unsympathetic, she offered the absence of 'sorrys' that Zabuza had given her when she had spoken of her own father.

"Hey," she nudged his shoulder and hefted the wine bottle, "ya think I can get this in that window over there?"

He scanned the distance and snorted, "Like hell."

Oki accepted the challenge with a sharp grin and Zabuza took the moment to breathe. He realised then exactly what this thread of resemblance was between them. Both Zabuza Momochi and Oki Tachibana were running from or towards invisible things. The perfection Oki sought did not exist, kept changing and growing before her eyes because it had no real substance at all. There was no perfection, just as the shadow of his father at his back grew larger and more nightmarish because the feeble man it had been based on was gone.

He and Oki, step by step, side by side, were managing to live their lives moving forward while patently running in place.

**A/N:**

**Okay, so Zabuza's backstory revealed but I didn't want to go into too much detail with that because child abuse is just vile. Since he wasn't given one in Anime I have (obviously) taken the liberty to create my own for him. It wasn't for the purpose of making you feel sorry for him but partly to make him more understandable and MOSTLY because I really liked the idea of his past running as something of a parallel to Haku's. Not only does that make Zabuza's empathy towards Haku more believable but I like to think that Zabuza looked at Haku and saw that despite everything he wasn't sullied by his father's attack like Zabuza was. Anyway it's just my take; I'll shut up now XD**

**On another note, if Oki seems OOC in the Academy I've hopefully explained why in her POV early in the chapter. She's under a lot of pressure to preform academically and socially at the Academy, and therefore the only person she feels she can be normal around is Zabuza just because he doesn't really give a shit, so Oki with Zabuza is far more real than when she's with Nao or Hajime.**

**Review Replies:  
SadisticAvocado: Ah, that was very punny of you, my good sir. Yeah, Oki declaring war on the entirety of the pony species could have some entertaining prospects especially in a MLP and Naruto crossover but alas, at the moment it's not to be so. I'm glad you're enjoying the Oki and Zabuza relationship because I enjoy writing it; those two are easy to write together. Thanks for the review and ****_every_****review, they are very much appreciated.**

**CreepyNick1: You were spot on in that prediction, it might be easy to guess from Nao's POV but she is sporting a major crush on Oki because well…'****_he's'_****tall, handsome and saved her from living in brothel XD Thanks for the review!**

**TurtleBiscuit: Thank you for the lovely review! Special thanks for saying Oki and Zabuza were adorable (well as cute as two rough, slightly foul-mouthed children can be) because I was starting to worry about them not being believable but your review really assuaged those doubts so thanks :D**

**World Aqua Marine: Yep, Oki's scared of ponies XD Thanks for the review! **

**And a big thank you to everyone whose favourited, followed or simply read this, it means a lot so THANK YOU :]**


	11. 11: A problem like Oki Tachibana

A problem like Oki Tachibana.

Nozomu Anzai looked first to the two men dithering behind his desk, then to the lanky portions of Oki Tachibana at ram-rod straight military address, and then finally back at the men again. There was a muscle twitching in his neck, keeping perfect rhythm with the crimson throbbing that never seemed to leave the back of his head these past five years. He slowly brought a hand to his mouth and glared at the three perpetrators as if the sheer vehemence of his gaze would burn them-and hopefully every other banal problem that he was left to pander to-right into the earth.

"I," Nozomu began, voice seething out in a strained growl, "am not paid enough to deal with this shit."

The two men flinched, the one on the left's arm swaying uselessly at his side with the motion. Tachibana-damn her-didn't as much as blink. Nozomu felt his teeth grind. After all he'd given and after all he'd done, Kirigakure had repaid his sacrifices by promoting him to glorified babysitter to a bunch of glaze-eyed kids. He was so bloody _angry_ all the time. He couldn't hold down a stable relationship, couldn't get through a day without a migraine that felt as if his very skull was cracking open, and any peace he felt when he returned to his grotty apartment at the end of the day was ultimately fleeting and bitter.

"But-" the moustached man who'd accompanied the bulbous man with the broken arm stammered, "b-b-but he's your student, shouldn't you_ do_ something about this?"

Looking at the pair was making Nozomu sick. He'd bleed for cockroaches like _this_? Everyone wanted a damn hand-out, it was always someone else's fault and responsibility. His fingers itched towards the pill bottle strapped at his waist until he swallowed down the urge.

"And?" Nozomu glared at them both, "How is this my fucking problem? In fact why are you two limp-dicks_ still_ fucking standing there?"

That was one advantage of the triangle shaped classroom; it made Nozomu that much bigger and more intimidating. The lines of the space all converged to the single point of his desk, pulling in reluctant gazes and making eye contact unavoidable without someone putting an obvious effort into avoiding it. Nozomu felt somewhat better knowing that the children were terrified of him, because truthfully sometimes_ they_ downright scared him. It was ridiculous to be unnerved by a group of kids that could barely wipe their own asses properly, but unlike every mission Nozomu had conducted beforehand, _here _he was on his own. There was no definite aim or enemy or team backing him; just him and forty prospective shinobi, and sometimes Nozomu became anxious at the notion of _them_ realising that.

More than two thirds of them wouldn't be alive to even become full shinobi by the end of next year. Those left would likely die in a year-three tops-on the frontlines, carrying messages or injured troops or conducting the dog's body work that the Chunin didn't want to be bothered with. Those that were 'lucky' enough to survive would probably be scarred or infirm or fuck knows what else, far too damaged to ever have a _healthy_ life again.

How could _anyone_ be happy with a job like his? It was ultimately meaningless and conclusively sadistic. But Kirigakure didn't ask Nozomu Anzai to be 'happy' with his task, they just asked him to _do_ it; and like any good Shinobi Nozomu did as he was ordered. He'd not received any orders about dealing with whiny civilians though.

"Did I not make myself clear? _Get._ **Out!"** Nozomu barked and the two men promptly scuttled out the room, nearly tripping over themselves in retreat.

"Tachibana," Nozomu shifted his glower to her, "Care to explain this?"

Oki Tachibana. Group 1C's current prodigy and Year 1's idol. And Nozomu could perfectly understand why. It was rare he received a student so intuitively suited to the Shinobi life. His last had been two years ago, Kisame Hoshigaki, who he understand had already reached the rank of Chunin. There were some people in Nozumo's opinion that you could just look at and_ know _that they were capable of things others couldn't stomach. He hadn't taught a kid who fought with such clean execution and ruthless ferocity since Hoshigaki. In terms of style the two differed completely; Hoshigaki's skills (those that he _remembered_ from his previous students performances) were always powerful and huge, while Tachibana had an eye for speed, precision and efficiency. It was like comparing a shout to a sharp whistle, but nevertheless both of them possessed that raw sense of threat. You wouldn't believe that Oki Tachibana had only arrived in Kirigakure almost a year ago; she had an adaptability and drive that Nozomu found personally enviable.

But Oki Tachibana was likely to fade out like all forces of nature. She was far too straight-forward and dominating in her approaches, a common reason as to why people were drawn to her and also why she had no close friends he could speak of. Both were faults that her future superiors could possibly use to their advantage though. However her attention-seeking tendencies were not. Nozomu knew that the moment Oki Tachibana lost all her fame; she'd end up dead or like every other washed up Shinobi. People like Tachibana existed in a constant brutal momentum, their reputation and achievements keeping the fire burning and keeping them plunging forward. You cut off their supplies and they dried up, fizzled out and ghosted away. He'd seen it over and over again; brilliant comrades with popularity and potential, snapping once they'd experienced a fall from grace.

She didn't say a word, her dark eyes guarded with an expression he hadn't seen in them before. It was almost…_loyal_. A word he hadn't come to associate with Tachibana. She kept the Oda kid and that Nao girl close, the former as a means to promote her image and the latter for her unswerving dedication but she was neither loyal nor affectionate to either. Protective, maybe, but that was more because of Nao and Hajime's association with her and she wasn't deliberately rude or cold to her classmates. But she'd never be _part _of them; he knew that, she knew that and they knew that.

"Well?" Nozomu growled.

"It's like they said, sir," she finally spoke, "I attacked 'em."

"_Alone_?" Nozomu scoffed, "It's not like you to lose your cool, Tachibana, who are you protecting?"

"No one, sir," she replied, too quickly and with a brief flicker in her eyes, "I ain't got no reason to bother protecting anyone."

Nozumo spent another ten minutes glaring at his tallest pupil, before sharply rising to his feet. He stormed over to the chipped stand closest to his desk and snatched up two Bokken. He moved one roughly into Oki chest before taking his position on one of the sparring mats.

"So you think you can take on adults now, huh!" Nozomu roared, jerking his head to indicate for her to take position opposite him. She did so with slightly shaky movements.

'Good', he thought, 'at least she's not stupid enough not to be scared'.

….

Oki groaned and flopped right onto Zabuza's stomach. The boy grunted, shifting his comic higher and kicking with his knees. Oki didn't bother moving. Mr Anzai had beaten down what felt like every muscle in her body and although she had desperately wanted to collapse throughout the day, she'd been loath to show any weakness to the rest of her classmates. But, she mentally amended; she had managed to block a fair portion of Mr Anzai's attacks.

"I guess this means no training today, huh?" Zabuza muttered from somewhere above her head.

"Yeah," Oki mumbled in reply. She breathed in the scent of his shirt, stale and comforting it smelt of the little fires they built on their barbeque tray and the fustiness of the bolthole. _Safe_.

"Figures," Zabuza snorted, "Ya gonna die on me?"

"Feel like it," Oki replied but her words were slurred, her eyelids heavy and sleep beckoning her in with warm fingers.

She could feel herself relaxing after a day-every day-of continually performing, hiding away the parts of her that were not allowed to exist on that stage. She thought of nothing, not even the constant internal pressure of self-criticism and those ever-expanding goals. And it was a blessed relief that Oki Tachibana relished.

…..

Summer bleed out into Autumn slowly. The heat seeped away like treacle along the skin of Kirigakure, peeling away the golden tones and unending sunsets and sunrises of the Summer months to reveal crimsons of the roof gardens in the village and driving grey sheets of rain. Oki and Zabuza found the days shortening and the nights stretching out into the empty hours. Autumn nights were the clearest, star gazing becoming something of a fascination to Oki Tachibana when the mood struck. The segregated tin roof of the nearby warehouse became a favourite haunt of the pair, when they desired to _feel_ the sweat cool on their bodies after their daily sparring matches.

They had no knowledge of astrology but instead made their own constellations, stringing stars together to create increasingly outlandish beasts immortalised in the night sky. Kirigakure would lurk below, all smoke and mist and driving rain breathing through channels of snaking streets and between the bones of its spire-like buildings. Sometimes it felt to Oki as if she and Zabuza were laying in the mouth of a great beast, as much a part of them as they were of it.

Oki's birthday passed though she did not know the exact date, she was aware that it was sometime around when the leaves began changing colour. Her time outside the Academy lulled into this pattern and soaked out into this space. Zabuza Momochi and Oki Tachibana. Simply that; no posturing and ineffectual false sympathies because both would not allow it, the competition mild and often, food split between dirty fingers and halved, conversation what they wanted to say because approval or disapproval be damned they needed that bubble of time between them to exist. Oki maintained as if it were something precious but expected, like air. It seemed an appropriate analogy because although she worked best in the pressure-heavy conditions at the Academy, she _breathed_ better when she was reading a comic with Zabuza or simply sleeping with her fists resting against his skinny spine. Even fighting and squabbling with Zabuza was preferable to any intelligent or amicable conversation with her classmates.

Sometimes she hated his guts but over the almost year they'd known each other, Zabuza Momochi had managed to achieve something in Oki's mind that no one else had.

He understood and was equal to her.

It was a precedent, made even more alarming by the fact that he still wished to be her friend despite knowing how much she was willing to sacrifice in the name of her ambitions. That knowledge still shocked her when she found the time to think about it. She'd never had a friend before, and she would have never envisioned that that friend would be someone as short-tempered, stubborn and determined as Zabuza Momochi. Nao's temperament would have been her instinctive mould, not a person like Zabuza who was unwilling to back down and would drag himself to the end of whatever he put his mind to with unswerving fortitude even if it killed him. He was stubborn and prideful and, to Oki at times, completely admirable.

"Hey," Oki spoke between heavy breathes, "Zabuza?"

Both she and Zabuza were lying with their arms behind their heads and the cold metal of the roof digging into their backs. The stars and moon were obscured by thick reams of smoky coloured clouds, fat-bellied and blackened at the tips with the promise of rain. She could hardly tell the difference between her breath and the ghostly presence of the mist, but it hardly mattered. Kirigakure signature technique was Hiding in the Mist, and it's people were born to it.

"What?" he replied, frowning as his tongue darted out to test the damage to his split lip.

"Y'know Mr Anzai said something weird today," Oki began, "Wait, nah it weren't _weird_. I'd just heard it before is all."

Zabuza chuckled to himself, "This goin' somewhere, Oki?"

"Yeah," she grinned, "I'm just building up the suspense and stuff."

She sighed, "Well I was beating the living shit outta Tetsu during Kenjutsu practice-"

Zabuza snorted, "Nice of ya."

She smirked, "It was class, if he wanted to avoid the hits he shoulda kept his guard up instead of only guarding his face. Tch, you'd think he woulda realised that's he not just a floatin' head by _now_."

Zabuza released a barking laugh that bounced across and through all the night time revelries of the drinkers and their music below.

"Anyways," Oki began again, "When I'd finished, Mr Anzai comes up to me, all bald and angry and stuff but then he pats me on the back and says-"

"Wash ya damn shirt, ya hobo," Zabuza smirked.

"Oi!" she smacked his arm, "Nah, he_ says_, 'you're a natural'."

Zabuza blinked, absently rubbing at the spot Oki had hit as he tried to process why this was so important.

"Someone else said something like that 'bout me once," Oki murmured, the words escaping her lips in barely a whisper, "it feels like a long time ago now and the words were bit different. He said I was a natural born killer…but it's the same thing."

She could still remember that exchange between Teacher and Kenki with startling clarity; words rasped out and bundled up in the darkness of that cave. She hadn't thought about the burned ruin of a man in nearly a year, hadn't needed to so didn't. She could barely remember his face or the stink that used to constantly linger about him; but she did remember the tone of his voice, broken and raspy as if it were being pulled over barbed wire.

"So?" Zabuza shrugged, "That's a good thing right, makes it easier an' stuff."

"…I dunno," Oki breathed, "Yeah, I mean I can do things other people in my class can't but is that _good_? I…dunno."

She sighed, trying to force the underlying panic that skittered about at the 'praise' into words, "I mean you get this stuff quickly, right Zabuza?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"So…." She ran a hand through her hair in aggravation, "that means we're different, right? I mean…what does that say about us?"

Zabuza was quiet for a long moment, his posture hunched over his raised knees and his gaze spearing out into the noise and lights deep in Kirigakure's belly.

When he spoke his tone was defensive and angry, "Don't say much. I dunno where ya going with this shit, Oki, but I don't like it."

"That's 'xactly it," she nodded, "I know I _should_ be happy with it but somehow I don't like it, or maybe I _am_ happy 'bout it but feel like I should be. Argh, I dunno."

She sighed and closed her eyes, "Forget I said anything, yeah?"

Zabuza glanced across at her, eyes sticking to her profile in the semi-darkness.

"Alright," he murmured.

It was quiet for a long moment then, a stray dog's howl and the crashing of broken glass as someone disturbed the alleyway to their right intruded in on the silence but remained ignored.

"…Hey, Oki?" Zabuza licked at his lips.

"Yeah?" she muttered back.

"Even…even if we are natural at this stuff," he hunched further in, eyes shadowed as they glared at her from underneath the barrier of his forearms, "y'know…ya still think I'm _human_, right?"

And that was it. It was precisely the point Oki had been attempting to shoot down before but eluded her. When you had…done the things Zabuza and Oki had done, and found yourself surprised at how easily and instinctively you managed it, your humanity was in question. Even if she were a ten year old and he a nine year old now, the future prospects of what they _could_ achieve were…chilling. Situational factors aside, neither _regretted_ killing their own fathers so did they honestly _deserve_ to have their feelings or personal identity taken into consideration.

Oki answered it as she answered most questions, bluntly and honestly, "Yeah…do_ you_ think I'm still human?"

He turned his head away but the reply was instantaneous, "Yeah."

The response calmed her in a way it shouldn't have. Zabuza's regard was somewhat skewered, he was no innocent that she could receive unbiased forgiveness from. But Oki was not looking for forgiveness. Everyone would remember her name, but if she died to tomorrow there was likely only one person who would remember _her _as a human.

….

That all changed come mid-Autumn.

Away from the battles playing out along its borders Kirigakure was struggling. The Seven Swordsmen had been distributed to camps at every corner in hopes of clawing back an advantage. In the Land of Wind, the Kirin in dug in deep. The weather conditions there were proving difficult to the Shinobi unaccustomed to them. Water supplies were fast disappearing and it not only affected food supplies, the general morale and health of those stationed out in the dessert country but it was also having an effect on their chakra. No water meant no immediate supply for their water-based Jutsus, and therefore they were forced to expend twice the usual amount from their chakra reserves to create their own. But the Mizukage was unwilling to allow what ground they've gained in the Land of Wind be sacrificed in the name of caution. Not only did it seemingly undermine the effort it had taken to get there, but it also offered an invaluable foothold towards Kirigakure's ally, Iwagakure.

Despite Kirigakure's battering by forces of Suna and the logistics of having their forces so phenomenally stretched, they've been making moderate headway in the Land of Fire. There the climate is not so shockingly different and water-based Jutsu have that much needed edge over Konohagakure's more prominent fire-style techniques. This success is curbed, however, by the incursion of Kumogakure Shinobi into some of the smaller Islands that make up the Land of Water. Kumogakure's military might is not something to be casually flirted with and their proximity to Kirigakure had been one of the significant factors that spurred the Mizukage into initiating an alliance between his Village and Iwagakure. Iwagakure had been undergoing a long slugging match with Konohagakure since the war began, Kusagakure hanging precariously between the two warring Villages. The tactic was for Iwagakure and Kirigakure to outflank them, chipping away at their borders but it was proving to be a long, hard effort and Iwagakure's loyalty to them had forever been cast in doubt.

All in all, when Oki Tachibana was ten, _everyone_ was losing the Third Shinobi World War, except her home Village was losing more than others. It only fed a more erratic sense of paranoia and desperation within the Academy. Kirigakure needed troops _quickly_ and in mass quantities. Yagura's new final examination progress meant those weaker candidates were weeded out, but that did nothing to alleviate the demand. Infiltration was also a constant worry since Kirigakure's economy and therefore technology was so inadequate in comparison to the giants like Yumogakure, that not even Shinobi identification numbers were provided. Kirigakure needed its Academy Students out before their education could be sabotaged, and they needed them on the battlefields were they could bolster the ranks.

Regardless of age or innocence.

"What?" Hajime whispered with shock.

It was the only sound in a classroom of painful, fragile silence and wide, disbelieving eyes.

"You heard me, Oda," Mr Anzai barked but for the first time in Oki's memory the glowering, pretty-faced man was incapable of meeting their eyes, "Graduation has been moved up. The Second Years are participating in their Final Exam next week; yours will be a month after."

"B-But," Akane's voice was rich with pleading tones, "But we can't be ready yet, we've only been training for a year, how can we be ready?"

"Its orders!" he barked, "You're all damn well ready when I say you're ready!"

The silence was so loud that Oki could feel it eating away at her classmates, hungry and despondent and altogether terrifying on a level she had never experienced before. She'd been scared, terrified was not an emotion alien to her, but she had never felt…insecure. Inexperienced perhaps and sometimes dwarfed by the abilities of her mentors but still Oki's internal wall of confidence had remained. This news of their looming rushed graduation unnerved and even…._excited_ Oki in a way that made her fingers twitch.

It was the ultimate test the Academy, Oki already having reached the second spot on the Year Rankings and one flawless demonstration of her Kenjutsu skills away from capturing the top rank. Her relentless need for improvement couldn't ignore the bait Mr Anzai's announcement had offered, and yet…it unsettled her. Unlike with her Seals Oki could not screw this up and start over, there were no recurring students in the Academy and the 'losers' of this Final Exam were never seen nor spoken of. She wasn't sure if her classmates had picked up on this detail, but Oki had been preparing for impeccable results and this minor information made her edgy. You won or you failed, you didn't just _disappear._

"What happens in the Exams?"

All eyes were on her but Oki was so accustomed to that position by now that it didn't faze her in the least. Mr Anzai's jaw clicked, she wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't been watching him so intently.

"Just a demonstration of your skill," he replied.

"Like what?" she pushed, she was good at that, _pushing_ people. It was likely the reason why only Zabuza who was too stubborn to bend and Nao who was too obedient to do otherwise were the only two who could tolerate her total attention for hours on end.

"I don't know, Tachibana, why not those fancy-ass Blinding Tags you pulled out your ass last week," he grit out.

"Shock Tags," Oki corrected absently.

It had taken days and multiple pages ripped from Academy textbooks to alter her Explosive Tag template enough to supply the burst of light without the heat and prolong the effect. She still had less chakra than the majority of her class, and such a handicap had forced her to focus on Jutsus that required little to none such as Taijutsu and her new favourite, Kenjutsu, or develop alternative methods that garnered the desired result. She may not be capable of stunning an opponent with a Raging Waves Jutsu like the Itaru and his comparatively huge Chakra Stores could, but she could at least paralyse them with a Shock Tag instead.

"You could call them fucking Kibble Bites for all I care!" he roared, that offensive attitude kicking in whenever someone questioned or corrected him, "You just go in there and show them your skills, is that too fucking difficult for you Tachibana?"

"No, sir," she replied.

The Academy schedule that followed Mr Anzai's announcement was something Oki hated with a passion. They were rushed through subjects, sometimes the lessons so rushed that half of Class C learnt nothing after stumbling once and being incapable of catching up. The techniques or information they were given were brutal, Mr Anzai even encouraging the students to mercilessly defeat their opponents in spars. The focus on following every little order also became increasingly intense, as did the punishments for disobedience.

Akira was the first to experience this punishment, Mr Anzai holding his head underwater until he almost reached unconsciousness after the boy had messed around in the underground Swimming Pool Room.

Oki was not spared in these new procedures. During a Kenjutsu match between herself and Nao, she'd grumbled and restarted completely when she had stumbled through her footwork on a particularly stern manoeuvre. She hadn't even known Mr Anzai was there until the blunted edge of his Bokken came sailing down on her back.

Oki hissed and instinctively moved to leap away but the next blow never connected.

Nao, her lip split and half of her face already swelling, looked up at Mr Anzai with a hostility that seemed so much more expansive than her tiny body could maintain. Oki blinked. She'd never seen an expression that fierce, not even from Zabuza, and because of the sheer _depth_ of it, Nao suddenly appeared so much more powerful than she actually was.

"Please refrain from maliciously injuring Tachibana," Nao's voice was as empty and smooth as usual, but her burning eyes added layers in her tone that would not have existed.

Mr Anzai was not a man to be intimidated so Oki tensed preparing for a retaliation that never came. Instead their teacher remained silent, watching Nao with a look that almost held…_pity._ It made her stomach turn. Nao was largely ignored by the others, because she was 'dating' Oki for some and despite 'dating' Oki for others. Those that did acknowledge her presence it was uselessly with contempt, disgust or a strange morbid fascination for her apathetic outward appearance.

Only Oki treated the golden-eyed girl with respect, and that was for her diligence, Taijutsu skills and perseverance. No one looked at her with such sympathy, why would they when she was Oki Tachibana's girlfriend and unwilling to speak about her previously disastrous upbringing? The pity in Mr Anzai's eyes sent warning bells ringing in Oki's head.

Slowly Oki reached a hand out and curled it around Nao's arm, pulling the smaller girl behind her. As usual Nao blushed in response to the contact and lowered her gaze. Mr Anzai's eyes snapped up to Oki instead and lingered there a moment, his gaze unreadable, before moving on as if nothing had happened.

"You okay?" Oki murmured, inclining her head towards Nao's bent one.

"I am, thank you for your concern Tachibana," Nao whispered, "…it is appreciated."

Oki sighed with an exasperated smile and ragged a hand through her hair. Like hell would Nao tell her if she was injured? As her right hand man so to speak, Nao was Oki's responsibility; and although blunt and somewhat clumsy with her regard, Oki was not about to let the girl limp through the rest of the day.

She knelt down and carefully moved Nao's head upwards with a long-fingered hand under her chin and another on the side of her face that wasn't swelling. Oki's inspection of the damage was clinical, totally oblivious to the way Nao was turning tomato red.

"That's gonna bruise," Oki sighed, "C'mon let's get some ice."

When Nao didn't reply Oki murmured a noise of confusion and finally met her eyes. Nao was staring at her as if she were enchanted. Two big, soft eyes the colour of burnt gold unblinking and completely fascinated in their regard, as if Oki was the most magnificent thing Nao had ever seen in her life. In reality Oki smelt of sweat and the porridge she and Zabuza had had this morning. Strands of her light blue hair had escaped the neat slicked back hairstyle and there were dark circles sulking about under her eyes.

"Your hands," Nao's voice was tinged with affection, "they're always cold."

"Huh?" Oki glanced down at her palms now removed from Nao's face, "They botherin' you?"

There wasn't a sorry but Nao smiled as if there had been.

"You've never bothered me, Tachibana," she breathed through a small, fond smile.

"Alright then," Oki launched to her feet, completely ignorant to the 'atmosphere' that Nao had been carefully creating, "let's get some ice, then I wanna go over my footwork again."

Nao nodded obediently but before Oki could stride away, a small, dark hand flashed out and caught her wrist.

"Tachibana."

"Yeah?" Oki glanced back at her.

"Do you…" she paused, recollected her courage then soldiered on, "would you be averse to going to the festival with me?"

"Festival?" Oki replied, "I didn't know there was one."

Nao nodded, "tomorrow, you weren't born in Kirigakure so you wouldn't be aware. It celebrates the founding of our Village; there will be stalls and dancers."

"I don't really like dancing," Oki frowned.

"There's no need to participate," Nao replied evenly, "Would you please accompany me?"

Oki sighed. It would waste valuable time but…she cast a glance at the bruise welling on Nao's face and the smothered hopefulness in her eyes. Nao had been nothing less than absolute in her loyalty, following Oki's heels like a shadow and upholding her promises with total seriousness. Despite everything, Oki found she hadn't the heart to deny her this request after everything the girl had sacrificed for her.

"Alright," Oki nodded, "I'll meet ya outside the Academy tomorrow?"

Nao's grin was uncharacteristically wide before she ducked her head and nodded with far less composure than Oki had ever seen.

"Yes, thank you Tachibana."

**A/N: **

**If people are wondering if I've gone mad, don't worry I haven't. The final Examination was always going to be bumped up (remember, Zabuza murdered his classmates BEFORE he was officially a student) but don't worry Oki won't be woefully underprepared since she'll still be training under a Jounin Sensei. Not a lot of information is really given on the Third Shinobi War besides what Team Minato was up to, but the impression I got was that Kirigakure really wasn't doing so well. All you really hear about them during the war is Kisame's advancement to Swordsman and meeting Obito, the horrific practices at the Academy and the Tradegy of Yosuga Pass; all of them not nice things (even the first considering how it happened). Considering how young Konohagakure were willing to send them out (and _they're_ own of more benevolent Villages) I can only speculate that a Village as brutal as Kirigakure (where they make the students fight to the freaking death first) wouldn't be too squeamish about their age if they were at least somewhat combat ready. Course, I don't know any of this for fact and if I have accidently gone against Cannon I'm sorry….**

**On another note, I have a question that doesn't really have to do with the story. I know that it says you can't put pictures you haven't created up on Fanfic as your story covers but I can't draw and I've seen others with pictures up from the actual series. So does anyone know if you're allowed to do that or will I just get my ass sued off? Or even better would anyone even want to create a cover? If not, is fine I'm just kinda confused as to how it works :S**

**Reviewer Replies:**

**Completely Confunded: Thanks for the review it was really interesting :D I'd never even thought about the comparisons between Haku and Oki but yeah, they are almost completely different despite going through quite similar experiences. I mean, it really gives you some new respect for Haku considering how much faith he STILL has in people after everything he's been through. I really enjoyed reading through that comparison so thank you!**

**Countenance: Thank you very much, I'm glad you think so :D Whenever there's a chapter without Oki 'attacking' someone I always dither about putting in some random fight XD so once again thanks for the review!**

**TurtleBiscuit: Sooo glad that the Zabuza backstory makes sense and is believable -.- I really was trying to avoid coming up with some super sob story while still trying to explain (not sure if that's the right word but oh well) Zabuza's behaviour. And yeah XD if Hajime so much as stole Oki's riceball I could imagine Nao like gorilla tackling him or something. Thank you for the review and all your reviews! They are completely appreciated :D**

**Sadistic Avocado: Thank you for the review, I'm really trying not to just mash them together ('NOW KISS' style) but they're both not the most…erm, affectionate people in the world XD I loved the comparison with Nao and Mikasa, they should hulk it out over who's the bigger silent, supporter though I guess Mikasa would probably destroy Nao in a fight. And yeah, Hajime is slimy but he's an orphan in Kirigakure whose most talented at influencing others so I guess that's the only way he's managed to survive. Thanks for the continued support!**

**Massive thank you also to everyone who has favourited, followed or even just read this too! You are not forgotten ;D**


	12. 12: Oblivious

Oblivious**.**

If there ever was a day in Nao's life that was perfect it was that one. The competition wasn't hard. A collage of Oki Tachibana's face in those rare moments where she could believe that the shark-toothed grin was for her, the intensity in his eyes was spurned by her actions and those long, elegant fingers ruffling her hair were not paired with dark eyes faraway in memory, were the only other moments Nao had to hang onto that weren't weighed down in the murk and the stale smell of women's perfume.

The entirety of the day of the festival, Nao's eyes could not resist seeking glances at Oki. The excitement of her fellow students muted about her as she watched for any signs of the same anticipation in Tachibana. He was cool and focused as usual, completely unaffected by the eagerness she felt in waiting for the Academy day to end. Nao absent-mindedly pressed her hand to her chest again. Her heart beat like a rabbit's. It was an odd sensation, to be looking forward to something. It whirred in her bloodstream, making her legs tap against her desk and her stomach roll with nausea.

If only he knew. She couldn't help but wonder how Oki Tachibana would react if only he knew. Did he understand the implications of saving a life or was it just something he did because he had felt like it at that given moment? Was he aware of her pulse surging and her palms growing sweaty and that awful, fantastic uncertainty that filled her whenever he looked her way and smirked through jagged teeth? Nao had always thought herself the fool. Foolish to stay with her mother even though she _knew_ that doing so would only kill her in the long run. Foolish enough to believe that her mother would one day eventually care enough to take them out of there. Foolish enough to develop such terrifyingly strong feelings for the oblivious, perfect boy who'd had the courage she didn't.

Only a fool would take the distance between themselves and Oki Tachibana and not ask for more.

She spent the entire day caught between watching Tachibana and watching the clock, and therefore found herself somewhat shocked when the end of the Academy day snapped up to meet them. Oki shuffled several books on advanced Seal Work and Chakra Pathways (and wasn't that admirable in itself, that a Group C student was capable of reading the same material as the Group A's) into the large pockets of his jacket then stood. Without a single waver of confidence or a sign that he was feeling the same nervousness that she was, he made his way to her desk and paused. Nao looked up and Oki grinned, sharp and boyish. Nao felt heat rise to her face and instantly averted her eyes forwards again. She tried to wipe the sweat from her hands on her kimono, but felt too clumsy and overbalanced in her own skin that paranoia led her to believe that that single movement might end in disaster.

She wasn't a drama queen, nor had she ever been one of those girls giggling behind their hands at Oki Tachibana like they were pretty maids in some trashy romance novel. But evidently, Nao _was_ a fool and if Oki Tachibana kept smiling at her she was damned.

"You ready to go?" he said.

"I-" she swallowed, ducking her head as she slowly rose from her desk. She almost tripped over her feet and mortification flooded her with a vengeance.

"You alright, Nao?" Oki murmured, "Ya been real spacey all day?"

'Please don't ask me that,' Nao mentally pleaded. 'When did I become such a lumbering idiot?' another part of her growled with frustration.

"I'm quite alright," by some miracle Nao managed to rearrange herself into her nondescript, calm state, "thank you for your concern but I have been feeling…out of sorts all day."

"Alright," Oki shrugged, "but if ya feeling sick or something, we better leave it. I don't want ya puking all over me."

"No!"

Oki blinked, Nao resisted the urge to clap her hands over her face and sink to the floor. Her face was on fire. '_I can beat everyone but Tachibana in Taijutsu and yet I can't answer a simple question without making a show of myself.'_

"Well, alright then," Oki chuckled, "If ya feel that strongly 'bout it we better head off."

She only nodded. It wasn't until they were out of the Academy and in the open air that Nao managed to wrangle some composure again. Regardless, she felt like the warmth in her cheeks was to become a permanent fixture. The clouds overhead had become a watercolour of greys, hanging heavy and melancholy over the strings of blue decorative lanterns zigzagging through the Kirigakure streets. There was already a crowd forming, children held on the shoulders of their parents and teenage couples meandering about the few stalls just setting up. Nao spied a nearby stand that had taken opportunity in the turning weather by selling a variety of paper parasols.

"Ya want an umbrella?" Oki inclined his head towards her. Observant as usual, her gaze had only lingered for a moment and yet Tachibana had caught it.

"I am-"

"'Bout to say your fine, right?" Oki interrupted with a smirk, "C'mon I'll buy ya an umbrella, if you buy me something to eat."

"I-I," Nao stammered as quite unthinkingly Oki grabbed at her arm and dashed towards the vendor.

Raindrops were already beginning to sprinkle her back through the thin material of her kimono. She wondered if Oki could feel the drumming of her pulse where his fingers met her skin. His blue hair and wiry build was the only point of focus in the crowd of speaking bodies, the fat-bellied lanterns spraying soft light on the participants below as the sky swelled and darkened. There was already a crowd forming at the stall, but still Oki managed to manoeuvre them through the swell of bodies. The stall was open-mouthed and squat beneath an awning of eye-catching red, parasols of all colours-some plain and others decorated with delicate images of flowers and animals-framed the sides with their open faces. Plastic buckets lined the front, and in these leaned tens of more umbrellas.

"Oi!" he called up to the grizzle-faced old woman manning the front, "Can I have an umbrella?"

The woman looked up from her paper with disinterest, eying Oki then Nao in a manner that led the ten year old girl to believe there wasn't much on this Earth the old woman hadn't seen.

"You, your girlfriend or both?" she drawled.

"I'm-"

"Just Nao," Oki cut her off again, fishing in his trouser pockets and elbowing a middle-aged man aside as he did so, "What colour ya want?"

He was looking directly at her as he said this, the old woman peering down from the counter at her from behind Oki's head. Nao glanced from the price illustrated in the form of a little wooden sign stuck inside one of the front buckets. She moved her gaze to the meagre amount of coins nestled within Oki's palm. He was as poor as she was, if not poorer because he hadn't taken his place within one of Kirigakure's orphanages. She couldn't ask him to part with what little he had for her sake.

Just as she opened her mouth Oki was slapping his coins down on the counter.

"What colours ya got?" he asked the woman, resolutely slapping her hands away whenever Nao tried to retrieve his money and put it back in his pocket.

"Hrmm," the woman eyed the game of money tug-of-war between Nao and Oki with bland interest, "We got red, blue, yellow and I think we got one green left-"

"One?" Oki interrupted, "We'll have the green. Alright, Nao?"

Nao sighed. Forceful and somewhat controlling as usual but she conceded that if Oki was not that way with her, she would have spent the entire festival soaking wet. Nao sincerely doubted that there was anyone that Oki was not so intense with. Not that Nao disliked it; oddly enough being ordered around by Oki was at times somewhat satisfying. After all if Oki felt no form of connection with her, he wouldn't bother.

"One green," the woman muttered, scooping the coins into the fanny-pack at her waist and fishing a green umbrella hanging above her.

"Ha!" Oki grinned as he unfolded it, "Look, Nao, it looks like a frog."

It did indeed look like a frog, two little eyes popping up as Oki folded it out, mustard yellow spots on the bright green material and finally a cartoonish shy smile punctuated on either end by circles of blushing cheeks.

Oki and Nao looked at it with childish fascination.

"I like frogs," Nao murmured.

"Good," Oki nodded, "another good call from Tachibana, eh?"

Nao smiled small at the frog umbrella and reached up to poke at the two little eyes bobbing about at the top.

"You got yourself a good little man there," Nao jerked her head up at the voice to see the old woman watching her critically.

The old woman winked at Oki, "and your girlfriends a sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?" Oki echoed then shrugged, "I dunno what that means but Nao's cool. She's nearly top of the class in Taijutsu-"

The old woman waved a hand to silence Oki and gave Nao a highly sympathetic look, "I take back what I said. He's obviously a blockhead."

Nao gave the woman a scathing glare for the comment.

"Oki Tachibana is a perfect gentleman," she spoke coolly, "and your tat is overpriced."

Oki gave a disbelieving bark of laughter behind her but Nao, with some courage renewed by the anger she felt at the woman's insult, had already grabbed his sleeve and marched away. Her steps slowed the further they burrowed into the growing crowd as a blissful state entered her bloodstream. She was at the Festival with Oki Tachibana. She ignored the fact that the umbrella's points kept stabbing at the taller boy's shoulder and that both of them didn't smell so fresh after a day of brutal exercise. Instead Nao focused on the point of contact from her fingers wrapped around his wrist, on the smells of twenty-odd different food stalls saturating the air and the chatter of the swell of bodies about them. He didn't say anything and neither did she, she was too tense with nerves to be within any proximity of relaxed and far too many adults were sloshing their alcohol on the pair, but…she couldn't remember ever being in higher spirits.

"So, I'm hungry," Oki stated, turning his head wistfully towards a man grilling whole fish on a heated stone.

"Oh," Nao abruptly snapped to attention, "I apologise Mr Tachibana, I neglected your earlier request."

"What's good to eat then?" Oki asked, choosing to disregard her earlier irrelevant inattention. His eyes picked about the crowds, settling on hot-food seller to jowly-cheeked sweet vendors like a dragonfly across a lake.

He frowned, "It all looks pretty good to me," then inclined his head towards Nao, shouldering the umbrella out the way first, "what do ya reckon?"

"What is it you wish to eat?" Nao replied, after the umbrella incident she was determined that Oki Tachibana would enjoy this afternoon as much as she was.

"I dunno," Oki slicked his hair back absent-mindedly, "Never had food like this before."

"You…haven't?" Nao blinked. Even living in a brothel she'd been treated to Takoyaki before or dumplings on those rare occasions. Oki was watching a man flip a pancake the same way she elevated a new Shinobi tool, interest pragmatic and brows knit with concentration. It was not a word Nao had ever associated with Oki Tachibana before, but outside the classroom environment his determination (_especially _when he was minutely more relaxed) was a little….cute.

A broad smile began slowly unfolding across her face as she watched Oki Tachibana. Perhaps it was the glimpse of something human under the cool, flawless image he had at the Academy that gave her hope that the warm feeling suffusing in her chest was not entirely unrequited. Oki sneezed then and Nao belatedly noticed that he was being rained on.

"Mr Tachibana!" her eyes widened and she instantly bustled Oki into taking her umbrella.

"Eh?" Oki scowled, "I brought that for ya, I ain't taking it back now just cause you'll have to keep ya end of the bargain."

"Bargain?" Nao echoed with confusion.

"Ya said you'd buy the food," Oki nodded towards the stalls, "I can't pay for-"

"No, of course not, I would not expect you to," it was Nao who interrupted_ him_ this time, "I'll fully intend to keep my word. I just believed that it would be easier for both of us if you were the one to hold the umbrella."

Tachibana looked unconvinced, "I ain't bothered by some rain."

"You'll catch a cold," Nao was unwilling to back down on this point when Tachibana's health was at stake.

"Jeez," he smirked, "I sneezed _once_, I don't think I'm gonna die."

"You intend to keep performing at maximum health; a cold will be detrimental to that."

"Ya making a big fuss oughta nothing. I can definitely handle a _cold_."

"Regardless I will not see you suffer, Mr Tachibana, due to my selfishness and neglect."

Oki frowned, "Neglect? C'mon Nao, ya only held an umbrella."

"Please keep the rain from yourself, Mr Tachibana," Nao repeated stubbornly.

Oki sighed and just looked at her for a few moments, "Ya ain't gonna let this go until I hold the damn umbrella are ya?"

Nao only shook her head and held the umbrella out to him again.

Oki huffed a laugh with a fond smile, "Didn't think I'd ever see someone as stubborn as Zabuza."

It was the warmest Nao had ever seen Oki Tachibana smile besides that grin of triumph. She didn't know this 'Zabuza' but for a single moment, Nao was bitterly jealous.

"Right," Oki snatched up the umbrella, "where we headin'?"

They brought an assortment of meat on sticks that Oki demolished in moments and Nao watched contented while she licked at her fingers. The rain pattered about on the plastic cover of their umbrella and Nao watched, transfixed, as the little shadows in cast in green tones on Oki's face. They caught fish in paper nets, Oki watching closely the techniques of others before scooping up several himself and basking in the awed exclamations of the younger children. Nao tried not to think too much of the gesture when Oki handed the bag of captured fish to her. He said he'd probably end up cooking them for dinner if he took them home anyway, but still…Nao let herself believe that there was more to the gift than convenience's sake.

Nao pointed towards a man advertised pony rides but Oki growled beneath her breath and scowled so hard that Nao decided to drop the subject. They watched a shadow puppet theatre and Nao took the opportunity to stealthily shuffle closer to her companion. She leaned into his body warmth, both covered by the vibrant green hood of their umbrella. He smelt faintly of smoke from his signature exploding tags and the cooked meat they'd eaten earlier. Nao breathed it in, enveloping herself in the space Oki Tachibana occupied. If he noticed he made no mention, perhaps dissuaded by the small blissful smile on Nao's face.

"Alright," Oki cracked her shoulders as the play ended and the spectators began milling away, "It's getting dark. We done?"

Nao blinked, "pardon?"

Oki smirked, "Ya sure you're having fun? You've been outta it all afternoon?"

"It's the best day I've ever had," Nao whispered, the words escaping her lips before she could catch them.

Oki blinked, "Ah, that's…good."

"C'mon," clearly impatient, Oki reached down and grasped her hand, "Let's head home."

Nao was in a daze as Oki lead her back towards the Orphanage. She was trying to build the courage and quiet the anxious bubbling in her chest. A part of her believed that this was the perfect moment to make her feelings clear, but another was mercilessly berating herself for potentially ruining this day of all days.

"Hey," called a sultry voice and Nao looked up to recognise Mei Terumi, a slightly older girl from the girl's room in the Orphanage. She was stunning as always, perfectly beautiful and alluring in a manner that made Nao envious despite their young age.

"You're late back, Nao," Mei smiled in a feline-like manner, ruffling Nao's hair, "enjoying the Festival?"

Nao silently nodded.

Mei's gaze turned towards where Oki was watching the interaction intently. Instinctively Nao's hand gripped his harder.

"Oh?" Mei's smile grew as she looked back to Nao, "this must be the infamous Oki Tachibana I've heard so much about?"

"Yeah, that's right," Oki replied bluntly, "Who're you?"

"Mei Terumi," she replied, inspecting Oki over her nails, "I share a room with little Nao. Be nice to her, she's quiet but she's one of the most selfless people I know and that's a rare thing in Krigakure."

Nao blinked. She hadn't expected that. She hadn't really spoken to Mei before; paranoia had led her to believe that Mei's big-sisterly attention was nothing more than mockery. But…perhaps it wasn't just Oki Tachibana that saw something other than a whore's daughter when they looked at her.

"He's quite handsome for a kid, isn't he?" Mei murmured glancing at Oki from underneath her lashes.

And it was here, that Nao found her courage.

It was swift and clumsy. She surged up onto her tip-toes and pressed a kiss against the cool skin of Oki's check, smashing her lips against the skin briefly before her sudden bravery fled her and she turned to run back into the Academy. Nao ducked her head as she hurried down the path, feeling both Oki's and Mei's wide-eyed surprise on her.

"Nao!"

She paused.

"Your umbrella," Oki tapped it against her arm then grinned, "see ya tomorrow!"

Nao stood there, clutching the umbrella and more than a little bewildered.

"Wow," Mei whistled, "That guy's completely oblivious."

Nao sighed, "It seems so."

…..

The smell of cooked fish was as welcoming as it was stifling when Zabuza Momochi returned to their bolthole. It had been meagre pickings in the week following the Founding Festival and all that fleeting optimism and pride had irrevocably washed away from the Kirigakure's population leaving them more guarded and hot-tempered than before. Zabuza slid from the narrow vent that leads into the main room, rubbing absentmindedly at a forming bruise he'd earned for his trouble.

He emptied his pockets (a watch, three coins and a soggy half-loaf) before marching towards their fire.

"Good day?" Oki called, not bothering to look up at him.

Zabuza grunted, "Shitty day."

He flopped down beside her, inconsiderately shuffling the heavy book she had perched between her knees and grasping the poker to prod restlessly at the flames. He grew bored of that quickly then scowled at the page over Oki's shoulder. He couldn't make head or tails of whatever the hell she was reading. Genjutsu then, he thought sullenly. A subject Oki excelled in over himself. At least he could whoop her ass in Kenjutsu.

"What's that?" he nudged his head towards the book, chin digging into her shoulder as he did so.

Oki raised a brow and flipped to the cover before announcing drily, "A Study of Basic Genjutsu an' its Applications."

He frowned, "Thought ya were meant to be practicing for the exam, it's only a month away right?"

"Yep," she shuffled the book open again and hunched over the text, "an' I have been studying."

Zabuza's eyes rolled over towards the opposite wall, littered with incomplete tags of all patterns and sizes. It looked scaled, like the underbelly of some great paper snake. He couldn't remember when he'd stopped making a point of Oki not intruding into his space. He couldn't really remember how empty the bolthole had been before her.

"….It was the Second Year's yesterday," he murmured.

At this she did look up, her eyes sharp and dark as they swept over his face, "Yeah."

He wasn't sure where he'd been going with that, and desisting small talk and the fool he made him feel, he decided not to bother continuing. Instead both he and Oki settled into a brief staring match, black on grey with shadows elongating and shrinking in the corners of their faces. She was close enough that Zabuza could feel her breath fill and swell the air about him. The familiarity and comfort of his presence made him feel strange, rooted and uprooted at the same moment. It was the ease perhaps, the ease of feeling himself soak into the space of another person without experiencing that desperate, angry mistrust.

"So…what happened?" Zabuza wasn't sure why he was whispering and his pride bit at how small he sounded but still….still the air in the room suddenly seemed to be hanging on a spider's thread.

"I dunno," she replied still staring at him, "But I gotta find out. Information for a mission is key….hey, wasn't that Koyanagi kid a Second Year."

Zabuza snorted, "Barely."

The fire spat and Oki hissed, breaking eye-contact as she hurried to turn the fish. Zabuza felt relief and a sense of loss flood him in equal measure.

"I think I'll check him out, see if I can get some info or something," she continued sliding their meal onto one chipped plate. She halved it with the soot-stained poker and blew on her own, steam rising up between the cage of her long fingers.

"What ya telling me for," Zabuza muttered, "Just go do it."

"I will," she smirked.

Before he was even half-way through his own, Oki had managed to completely devour her half. He had to wonder if the girl even chewed sometimes. She popped to her feet and instantly took off towards the half-window, her silhouette stick-like against the backdrop of storm clouds and persisting sheets of rain. Panic welled in him, for unknown reasons and he half-stood before he even realised what he was doing.

"Oi Oki!"

She paused and Zabuza fumbled. He wanted to tell her to forget it. He wanted to tell her not to bother coming back. Because when she glanced back at him he felt so horribly unsure of himself. He'd learnt the hard way that putting your faith in other people only ever ended badly. By nature they were selfish and spiteful, and the only thing Zabuza had come to expect from them was disappointment. But…he hated himself for******_allowing _**it but it couldn't be denied, over the year she had been here Zabuza had placed some parcel of his trust in Oki Tachibana. He was only setting himself up again, he _knew_ that and he _hated_ it and _still_ it had happened nonetheless.

"After…." He growled and glared up at her, feeling surer of himself and less vulnerable when he was on the offensive, "When ya done with ya Exam, what happens?"

She stilled.

The look she gave him reminded him distinctly of those people who had miscounted their steps and wound up on their ass.

"I…I dunno," she frowned, "I never really thought 'bout it, just assumed I'd getta stay here."

"Whatever," Zabuza spat. She wasn't taking it seriously. And because she wasn't Zabuza felt like he was being mocked especially because the turn in topic left him feeling particularly naked.

"You'll be a Genin, you'll get a team and they'll ship ya off somewhere and-!" he cut himself off just in time but still he felt like he'd said too much.

"-And leave ya behind, right?" she was watching him carefully and Zabuza bristled. He locked his jaw, directed his gaze to the wall and tried frantically to pull back up his defences. It wasn't supposed to matter. He was so furious with himself for letting it.

She snorted and Zabuza's replying glare was beyond venomous.

"I'll come find ya," she shrugged, "so what's the problem?"

Zabuza wasn't sure if he was gaping, grinding his teeth or preforming a strange mixture of the two. It took him longer than usual to search for some scathing or sardonic reply but by then Oki had already slipped off into the mist. People only led to disappointment, despite the confidence on her face Zabuza knew that his first…friend would not be an exception. What worried him was that he wasn't as bothered by that as he should be.

He huffed and lay down with a thin comic over his head, reading the words without absorbing the story. Instead Zabuza disappeared into his own head; memories of his grotty little childhood home and the fear shuddering in every corner like a wet dog, threaded through open August skies and Oki's sharp grin through the smoke of their fires, her fine-boned hands and heat resting at the skin of his back when he woke up sweating and disorientated from nightmares. It was a good two hours before he managed to pull himself into the real world again, and that was only to the sound of crates smashing outside.

He waited.

Eventually Oki slipped in through the open window, spit out of the outside darkness and into the bubble of his home. She was clumsy. So clumsy that for a moment he wasn't entirely sure it was her.

"Watch what ya doing!" he spat as she squashed one of his fingers underfoot.

The look he gave him had his arms standing on end. It wasn't malicious or even apologetic; it was simply…empty as if Oki had failed to recognise herself never mind him or the room. He shifted. Zabuza didn't know what to do, didn't understand the implications of that single hollow look. Had he said something wrong? Had he done something? His stomach knotted and he wanted to shake her, tell her stop messing around. She'd never looked so small and unsure of himself. Confident Oki, a force onto herself with her intensity and candid demeanour appeared haunted.

"W-" the words curled and died in his throat.

The moment passed, she ghosted past him and slumped onto the bed, gutted.

"I'm going to sleep."

With that conversation was over. She occupied an empty space that swallowed the room. Zabuza's eyes lingered on her back. He didn't know what to do. And that scared him.

…

There was a monstrous part of her; Oki decided when she sat in that little room with the hollow-eyed Koyanagi boy. When he had told her even later when he'd broken down and sobbed like the child he really was, Oki had been planning.

It wasn't until later that the numbness set in, the resignation born from how easily she had immediately begun running through mental preparations rather than _understanding_ what it is she was planning for. She sat in a class of children and realised dully that most wouldn't be alive. They chattered and smiled and joked and remained oblivious to the sentence that was already hanging above their heads.

Oblivious to the fact that she had calculated how many of them she could hit with an Exploding Tag before calculating their worth as human beings.

She felt secluded, shuttered away in a secret that she was reluctant to part with for her own selfish reasons. She felt sick. Sick at them. Sick at the Academy. Sick at herself. She didn't know what to do and yet…a part of her already knew what she_would_ do.

She would kill them.

Just like she murdered her father.

And later when she was away and she'd washed the stink of blood off her hands, she would tell herself it was in the name of survival. Perhaps Teacher had been right all along. Without knowing what she was doing, her palms were grinding into her eyes and her fingers were tugging at her hair. She wanted it to go away; she wanted it all just to go away. There would be no coming back from this. There would be no redemption, nothing of the girl Oki had been when she walked down that path. Her course seemed locked with the most horrific certainty.

A touch at her elbow made her startle.

Nao was staring at her, face impassive but gaze heavy with concern.

"Are you okay?"

Oki's heart jackhammered in her chest. She felt like the wolf in the sheep's flock. 'Why are you asking _me_?'

When she didn't answer Nao's eyes turned slowly to Oki's hands. They were shaking. Badly.

"Is something concerning you, Mr Tachibana?" Nao's eyes flew to her own and shame would not allow Oki to meet her gaze.

It was silent for a long moment, Nao hovering carefully by Oki's desk while she seemed suspended in time.

"Nao…have you ever been selfish?" the words left her mouth in a whisper.

Nao's only reply was a look of mild confusion. She didn't understand. Someone needed to stop her, because Oki knew she was incapable of stopping herself.

"Has something happened?" Nao questioned in the gentle, reverent tones she always used to address the taller girl.

"Stop that!"

Nao blinked. Oki wasn't thinking she was only feeling now. This was her one moment, a moment of clarity or humanity where the room was filled with breathing living people not targets and those childhood notions of innocence tethered her before self-serving pragmatism cut her loose. Someone needed to stop her before hole or absence that had been cut into Oki's soul inevitably won out.

"Stop…just stop," she choked, "Nao, I'm…not good. Look, there's something_ wrong_ with me-"

"Mr Tachibana, please do not continue talking about yourself in such a way-"

"Shut up! You…." Her hands reached out and gripped at Nao's kimono, knuckles white against the red fabric, "I'll ask you to do something but for once in your goddamn life Nao you need to be selfish and say no!"

"…I'll do whatever you ask me to do," Nao's reply was even.

"No! You're not listen-"

"I understand perfectly," her eyes flashed to Oki's, "and I will still comply with whatever you ask of me."

It was gone.

Oki slumped back in her seat and only stared at the soft-faced girl. Something fearful in Nao's eyes told her that she knew, she understand what Oki was saying on some level and _still_ she would agree. And Oki would use her.

"Why?"

"Because that is my place in life," Nao replied, "And yours, Oki Tachibana, is to ask such things of others."

**A/N:**

**Arghh THIS CHAPTER! I've written it and re-written it like twenty times and still remain unsatisfied. The Oki and Nao conversation at the end was far longer but I realised that was more unrealistic for Oki than her moment of intense guilt making her panic. Sorry for any errors but this was the closest to satisfied I could get with it and decided to upload before I sat there glaring at the screen for another two hours.**

**You know what's coming now, and exactly what Oki will (potentially she may have a change of heart) ask of Nao will be revealed next chapter.**

**Reviewer Replies:**

**TurtleBiscuit: Yep, shit most definitely will be meeting fan XD Thanks for the review and the PMs! **

**World Aqua Marine: Nao's move kind of flopped XD Poor girl having to put up with completely clueless Oki, and yeah the Exam isn't just a free for all the specifics of that next chapter ;)**

**SadisticAvocado: Thanks for the review! The number 1 guy will be making a later re-appearance but that's all I'm saying...**

**Countenance: XD I don't think I've ever thought about Oki as cute and I'm not telling ;) Thanks for the review!**

**Aki no hikari: Thanks for the info on the Yosuga Pass, I hadn't realised, and thanks for the review :D**

**THANK YOU to everyone whose favourited, followed or just read this story it is much appreciated!**


	13. 13: Cancer

Cancer.

There wasn't a particular look. Not after the weeks of seeing some slither of something lurking in Oki Tachibana's dark eyes, some silent plea that Zabuza could not translate. He was not in the business of helping people, how could she expect him to understand even when something in him desperately wanted to.

She'd woken up in the morning of the Exam and there was something in the way she held herself or spoke that said that in the first time in weeks, a real part of Oki was occupying her body. And she was _scared_.

When she made breakfast her eyes never left his face, when she ate she never stopped watching him and when he moved (defensive and self-conscious under the unflinching attention) she kept sight of him with an intensity that made Zabuza feel as if her eyes on him were the only thing stitching him into the world. It irritated him and made him anxious, and the more anxious he felt the more irritated he became, and the more irritated he became the more that filled him with anxiety.

He didn't know how he knew then (before she even said that strange goodbye) but Zabuza could not shake the premonition that today when Oki Tachibana left the little space they'd created for themselves over the year, she would not be coming back.

….

_Her hands were shaking. Nao's were warm against clammy skin as they reached out to stabilise them. Control. In all things concerning herself, while the world was a mess of chaos, Oki had sought for control, perfection, pin-point accuracy. Nao's skin was dark and soft against Oki's own. Take this out of my control. Take it out of my hands. Oki's eyes flashed to meet Nao's and only by some act of miracle she was able to keep eye-contact. I don't want this guilt, you have it._

_"__You can still say no," Oki pleaded. She wasn't entirely sure what her tone was begging Nao to do, refuse this or accept it._

_Oki's hands were trapped between the buttery leather of her jacket and the warmth of Nao's palms. Nao's smile was sad and small and resigned, it made her face simultaneously older and younger. Oki dropped her eyes._

…..

When she reached the window, Zabuza was the one staring. He couldn't call her back. To let her know that he has some strange dependency on her, on the comfort and energy she has brought, is just not something Zabuza Momochi can bring himself to do.

"Alright," she breathed, back to him and assessing the wall. His fingers itched to grasp her sleeve but he didn't.

"So I'll see ya later," she glanced over her shoulder at him and he caught a sense of that same plea lost somewhere in translation.

"Right," Zabuza grunted. He shoved his hands in his pockets, keeping everything safely out of reach.

She snorted that husky laughter and for a moment it sounded so much like the one that would echo around their bolthole that Zabuza blinked. His lips twitched. Then his fingers. He didn't like this. She should just leave, or go lie down on the ratty bed and not bother waking up until she's completely herself again. He couldn't _stand_ the waiting and the wavering. It reeked too much of fear and indecision. Maybe he would've been better had he not met her in that rainy alleyway, maybe he'd have been better had she not breathed into his little space and he could have avoided having to stand here with gritted teeth waiting for her to breathe out again.

He opened his mouth to tell her to piss off when the noise caught in his throat.

With a speed he's always known she possessed, Oki darted forward and_ gripped_ him. It wasn't exactly a hug, more of a death grip, and Zabuza scowled.

"Oki! What the-" he pushed once hard against her shoulders but her fingers only clutched tighter at the back of his shirt. The scars from his father's belt burn and itch at the contact that old panic rising up to lodge in his throat.

But that's when he noticed her shaking. It reminded him of his mother and those watery smiles that he hated more than his father's feral ones, shaking and smiling at him that 'everything was fine, your father didn't mean it' smile while she scrambled to clean up bottle shards from the floor. It's so unlike Oki that he's struck dumb for a moment. Oki and that foolish, misguided woman did **not** correlate.

For that moment, Zabuza only stood there pinned and staring over her shoulder with wide, stunned eyes. Then little details begin to filter. Like how strongly she smells of that sharp, sooty blackness of her Explosive Tags. Like how her breath recedes and advances on the skin of his neck in trembling waves. Like how sharp her cheekbones feel and the strong pump her heart against his chest, echoing through his ribcage and synchronising with the drumbeat of his own.

She seemed fragile all of a sudden. Zabuza's hands clenched in his pockets. Oki should not be fragile. Oki should not be in need of him. People never needed Zabuza. This crossed every unspoken rule they had made. She should push her away but...the mixture of her shaking body and war drum heartbeat was addictive because she _shouldn't_ need him, but her grip betrayed that for a second maybe a part of her did.

It couldn't have lasted long because he's barely warmed by the time she pulls away. Still she slipped out with a backwards shark-toothed grin and Zabuza can only stand there waiting for his head to come down from the red-pulsating tempo of her pulse beating against his.

When he finally did the silence is intrusive. He knew it before but he definitely knows it at that moment, _something_ is going to happen.

…

_Mr Anzai and the two others have already separated 105 students (comprised of Group A, B and C) into 35 groups of 3. They carry themselves with practiced, clinical method like framers separating cattle, studiously ignoring the snickers of excitement or glances of childish confusion on their student's faces._

_Oki tried to catch Nozomu Anzai's eyes but he avoids her gaze. She wonders, idly, how many children he's had to train and watch die over the years. Nao is placed beside her, along with a student from group B who Oki remembers as a shy-eyed boy with a talent for data collection. She doesn't remember his name. She doesn't want to. Maybe it should matter, but Oki doesn't have the stomach to allow it too._

_Her mind blanches into that place again; where everything is empty and precise in clear-cut bold lines. The floor is concrete; they are outside the Sparring room on the Second Floor. Mr Anzai is five steps away from her. There is no way out. _

_Mechanically Oki reached up, her eyes sharp and her body living on nothing but nerves and that monstrous, necessary drive that is screaming 'whatever happens, you won't die, not now, not you!' When her fingers closed over the material of her jacket Oki noticed that were no longer shaking. She tugged it from her shoulders and passed it to Nao. Nao eyed it then her, and there must have been something in Oki's eyes that made the shorter still and stare as if she were a field mouse before a snake. Oki's gut wrenched._

_"__Here," she breathed, practiced and preformed to perfection, "for luck."_

_Oki leaned down and pressed a kiss against Nao's cheek. She doesn't know if it's to convince Nao or as some twisted form of commiseration. Her body and its actions feel disconnected somewhere, and Oki is far away from what she's about to do still listening to Zabuza's heartbeat. _

_Nao doesn't hesitate, not even for a moment. She carefully slid the oversized jacket onto her tiny frame, and simultaneously saves and damns the lanky girl beside her._

_…__.._

It came in a flurry.

Long, strangled moments of inactivity as Zabuza tried to sort through his own head. It wasn't possible and the mess only left him with the _need _to move, to do _something_.

"Koyanagi," he hissed, darting about the tiny room looking for everything and nothing in particular.

He tore out of the vent, the metal drumming and rumbling about him like the throat of some disgruntled metal beast. The mist and lashing of rain tore at his face, the streets of Kirigakure appearing guarded and introverted in the early morning hours. Winter was upon it again, lingering in the corners and leeching ice into air he breathed. Festival lanterns looking tattered and pathetic without the festivities drooped down from where they were strung between buildings. Zabuza batted one aside with a growl.

The Koyanagi's house came into view, the roof tiles now whole and neatly ordered. A memory of him and Oki wrestling in the bushes of the Koyanagi's manicured lawn rose unbidden, and it only leant Zabuza that extra burst of speed. He barrelled into the door, pounding at it with a fist as his eyes darted every which way.

Mrs Koyanagi blinked when she opened it, "Oh! Erm, we're quite alright for-"

She shoved her aside, "Is Tadoa here?"

"No….he's in his room, you know your tall friend was only here-"

He didn't bother uttering his thanks; only sprinted through the Koyanagi house in search of their son. He couldn't avoid the notion that this was all too little, too late. He couldn't let himself give shape to why it even mattered.

….

_They readied themselves. Oki could feel her pulse pounding in her ears; feel every single cell, centimetre and inch of her body. She knows this at least. She knows the hypersensitivity and knife-edge of control and panic, self-preservation and cold apathy, the need to win and the air bundled and measured and released in each smooth breath. _

_The room stinks of something metallic and smothering. There are people in the stands, watching, and more of her classmates locked outside, waiting. But Oki didn't see them. All she could see is Nao and the boy. The Explosive Tags sewn into the back of her jacket, the jacket Nao was wearing, tugged at her with the pull of own chakra, thin spider webs whispering at the corners. Oki's fingers twitched. She'll make this quick. She has to. She wants to see another sunrise. She needs to push and fight and __**take**__. The words looped over and over, becoming more solid with repetition and binding Oki into a purpose she could not-for her own sake-forsake now._

_The moment it began, the room exploded into movement. Oki threw herself backwards, feet sticking to the walls and sprinting into the far corner of the ceiling. When she stops (hands in the Rat Seal and breathing in a cool, steady flow)Nao has already thrown herself over the other boy and covered his body with her own. Oki stops feeling and only thinks, moves and completes._

_Her eyes meet Nao's in a single second. Something deep inside the very pit of her breaks and Oki detonates the Seals._

…..

Zabuza's legs felt wooden. When he backed away from Tadao Koyanagi he couldn't feel the tongue in his mouth. Tadao is already a mess of whimpering and shivering again, that boy with his vacant smile and insincere charity a million miles away and lost now. He bumped into something-he was not sure what-and suddenly Zabuza is jolting into motion again.

He can't be everywhere quick enough. Everything is too slow, only time careening and streaking past him. Zabuza's lungs burned. The word 'no' is a screeching wail wired between his ears. He wanted to grab it, drag it back to this morning and _make_ her stay. There wasn't enough time. He's too damn _slow_!

…

_The death of Oki's childhood was measured in those few seconds. When the smoke clears, she is cool-headed and watchful for survivors, too ingrained to think of anything but how plausible it will be to take them out with a kunai from this higher angle._

_The smoke cleared and two little bodies, crisp and blackened and locked in their terrible embrace, are the only pin-points in the grey. _

_Someone called something, someone else exclaiming that this may be the fastest time in Academy History. Oki didn't hear them. She watched the bodies, possessed by this strange notion that any minute now both would get up._

_They didn't._

_The intense determination fell from Oki Tachibana's face as realisation grimly comes creeping in. It's oily and she can feel it wrapping her bones and sinking into her muscles with cold, unctuous fingers. Oki's movement were jerky as she drops from the ceiling, rolls to absorb the impact and stiffly approached the bodies. They still did not get up. The smell of burnt meat and the heavy gunpowder scent of her Explosive Tags crawled into her nose. Nao and the boy don't look human; the jacket with the shredded back intact as if viciously reminding Oki that she did this, _she stopped them being human_._

_"…__.Nao?" the name fell from Oki's lips in a whisper._

_Another step. Someone is coming through the mist to congratulate her but Oki cannot tear her eyes away from the row of teeth, still intact and pearly white, in Nao's blackened mouth._

_She reached out, arms shaking so violently that they brush against the concrete floor._

_"…__Nao?"_

_She doesn't answer. _

_And that's when it sets in. Oki hurled herself forward, hands and arms scrambling at Nao's tiny, burnt body, squeezing and gripping as if she could pull her back and remove the terrible thing she has done. She's distantly aware that she cannot see through the tears that burn her eyes and the incessant call of Nao's name is leaving her throat ragged. She's done it again. Dear God, she's done it again. And she's sorry now but she knew what she was doing and knew that she would not trade her life for Nao's. _

_Bile lurches up Oki's throat and she squeezes her eyes tight, clawing at Nao's tiny back and rocking the body. Because there is no going back from this and whatever Oki does there will be no redemption. She will keep moving, keep reaching but Oki Tachibana has fallen from whatever different life she could have had when she ripped away Nao's._

_That is the monster inside Oki that can no longer be ignored or denied. She will always keep taking from people like Nao, and giving little in return. She will mark her life in these flashes of brilliance and the heavy silence that follows its destruction. She will kill to save herself, she will smile at people whose names she won't remember, and she will be praised for it and still keep reaching. She'll never be satisfied. _

_Oki Tachibana feels like a cancer. _

…

The Academy was silent and foreboding enough to make Zabuza's steps falter. His heart is still thundering in his chest, and his breath pants out of him in quick, sharp bursts. He doesn't know what to do again and he hates it. He wants to tear the Academy open at the ribs and peer about for Oki inside. He wants to turn around and forget she ever existed before he finds something he'll wish he hadn't.

But Zabuza Momochi doesn't do either of those things; he follows the sound of soft grunts around the back of the Academy. The back words are opened out like a gaping mouth, a cart surrounded by flies and covered in filth-smeared blanket stands waiting and idle nearby.

Two men toil, dragging shapes along the concrete towards the cart and leaving twin snail-trails of some liquid behind them. That sense of foreshadowing grips Zabuza with a vengeance. He senses the hairs rise on the back of his neck and the persistent urging in his ears. If he turned back now he can almost pretend nothing happened. He felt like the child creeping down the stairs at midnight, if he ran back to his bed and hid under the covers the monsters would cease to exist.

But Zabuza doesn't hide from the ugly things.

"Did ya hear 'bout that Group C kid," one of the men mutters, "Fastest time in the Academy, blew up his girlfriend and everything?"

The other snorted and Zabuza ducked lower, tucking himself behind the doors, "An' they say romance is dead."

"That ain't the worst," the first leaped onto the topic, they both huff and Zabuza can hear the heavy creaking and groaning of wood as the two men heaved their burden onto the wagon, "the number one spot, erm…I forgets his name but he's one of them from that Shimabukuro Clan?"

"Yeah," the blanket rustled as he fidgeted with it, "I know 'em."

"Well, I heard that he literally _tore_ this other kid in two," the first stage whispered, "Y'know with their damn Kekkai Genkai and stuff. The other kid shit himself, couldn't even move when the little bastard started advancin'."

The first man spat, "That's what ya get for watching the fucking matches, Jiro, yer a sick asshole did I ever tell ya that?"

"Yeah," the first sighed as both men began retreating back inside again, "But really it's only me own self-interest! When ya think about it, these kids are gonna be the ones protecting Kirigakure, I wanna make sure they're-"

Their voices receded completely, echoing in the belly of the Academy as the two shapes filtered into the dark corridor. Stealthily Zabuza crept out from behind the door, watching the corridor a moment with beady eyes before darting towards the cart. He slipped, managing to right himself with a flurry of panic. Zabuza snarled, irritated that he was being held up when time seemed precious and there was so little of it. But he stopped when he noticed what exactly he had slid in.

Those snail-trails leading from the doorway to the cart were smeared by his footprint. It had only made the liquid starker against concrete, a furious brushstroke of dark crimson against grey tiles. Zabuza swallowed. His eyes snapped to the cart and its flies and the languorous chewing of the Ox manning it.

He knew what was under there without having to lift the dingy sheet but still Zabuza's mind was having trouble grasping it. He thought he was aware of how low people could go, of how rotten and selfish they really were but this….the bodies of children his age or slightly older stacked over one another like bags of rice was just too…

He moved forward despite everything in him yelling at him to stay back. The smell was horrendous; the flies buzzing a sour cacophony in his ears, Zabuza pressed a hand against his mouth to halt the bile rushing up his throat. The action jerked the cart and a hand swung down from beneath the blanket and Zabuza startled, a scream silenced beneath the press of his hand. It took a good few moments to get his breathing under control and even then it felt heavy, dirtied by the flies and the cart and the awful implications of both.

He turned to leave, disgusted but ultimately unsurprised, since he still needed to find Oki and-

The sleeve of the arm caught his attention. Zabuza froze. The arm lolling out from the side of the cart was plastered in blackened crisp green and dressed in leather. A leather jacket that was unmistakable and signature at the Academy. Because she was the only one who wore it.

And now it was on a cart of corpses.

And she was the only one who-

Ah.

He doesn't want it. He doesn't need it. Zabuza turned and ran and did not stop running until he reached their bolthole. He paced, he sat, and he muttered to himself, he waited for an Oki Tachibana that would not be returning because she was a burnt up little body on a cart of little bodies. There was something tearing up and pouring out in him and Zabuza did not know what _to do_ anymore. He tears her uncompleted seals from the wall and stuffed them outside, he doesn't want them anymore, _he doesn't want_-

Zabuza Momochi slumped to the floor.

He is accustomed to violence. Violence is cruel. But, sitting there with his knees pressed against his chest and the sudden gaping emptiness of their bolthole, he thinks kindness is crueller.

…

A week later, Zabuza Momochi will audition for a spot in the Academy, skinnier, shaper eyed and more feral looking than before. They will ask the children in groups of twenty to demonstrate their skills. Zabuza Momochi will listen to the sounds of friends limbering up to show-spar with friends and all he will hear is the buzzing of flies. All he will remember is what Oki Tachibana's confident declarations, sharp-toothed grins, awkward shoulder nudges and spark of potential had resulted in.

Zabuza Momochi will become infamous for being the only child to murder his entire class before even officially becoming a student.

**A/N:**

**Quick update for short chapter full of angst. Dear Lord the ANGST! I honestly did not just set out to upset anyone, her Exam is important to Oki's development I swear! This chapter was surprisingly easy to write but still I didn't enjoy it, just because...well I think the content is pretty self-explanatory. I am wondering how many of you want to kill Oki now too? Opinions of her completely shifted or is it more sympathetic? I am really interested, Oki's a much more ruthless character but she's not necessarily a monster. Like Zabuza I guess.**

**Oh, and Zabuza's view on the (death)hug. Sorry if it seemed too OOC but the sense I got from Zabuza and Haku's relationship was that he both wants and hates people depending on him. Yeah, he raised Haku as a tool and made him capable of taking care of himself but still Zabuza comes across as a wee bit possessive to me, like he doesn't want to bother babying Haku but he still wants Haku's complete and total loyalty and devotion. Dunno if I'm off the mark or stating the obvious but that's my opinion :3**

**Reviewer Replies:**

**TurtleBiscuit: Thanks for the Review! Yeah, God it was hard writing Nao's death especially when I decided to torture myself by reading over the start of the previous chapter after. Thank you again for your continued support, it really does mean a lot :D**

**Tough chick: Thank you very much :D**

**SadisticAvocado: I'm going to need to keep an eye on you XD Zabuza guess was wrong but you still have a knack for guessing what's going to happen, makes me do the shifty-eye thing when I'm typing, and as always thanks for the review!**

**Silvenstien: Thank you for the review and I'm glad you find Oki a very real character, 2D or cliché characters I try to avoid but it is difficult, so thanks again :D**

**And THANKS to everyone that favourited, followed or just read this!**


	14. 14: Sky, sand and self-loathing

Sky, sand and self-loathing.

_They were all blurred. Oki stilled, another frozen point in the mess of dragged colours about her, children pinned and their laughing faces smudged into the threads of blues and greys of Kirigakure streets. Those same blue lanterns hang, caught in a petrified wind while the fire in their bellies are smeared in tongues of soft oranges and yellows. Before her stands the puppet theatre, indistinct in the fuzzy colours and looming over its frozen audience. _

_Bar one._

_There at the centre (the singular patch of solid, stark colour besides Oki herself) is a small shape with a frog umbrella bobbing over her shoulder. Oki's throat squeezed so tightly that she felt ringing in her head. _

_"…__.Nao?"_

_She hesitantly stepped forward, waded through the mess of hazy people and snatches of conversation threaded through them. All the words were, as everything bar Oki and the little shape with the frog umbrella, only impressions. The sense of words and emotions rather than their actual presence. Still Oki walked forward._

_Her hand reached out then snatched back again, the notion of there being something terrible hiding beneath the cartoonish eyes and childish smile of that little green umbrella forcing the breath to catch in her throat. _

_"__Nao?" _

_Slowly the umbrella turned as if it had only realised it was being addressed. Oki reared back, snagged between the impulse to run and a sudden force that seems to __**hold **__her there. She knows what's coming; something pulling in her gut knows exactly what is under that umbrella._

_In the sea of blurred colours and noises of the Founding Festival there is a girl with skin blackened and peeling, her eyes burned into their sockets and her teeth morbidly white against her charred skin. She stands under a little, green frog umbrella and smiled up at Oki._

Oki jolted awake, careful not to shift in any way that might signal her distress to the other thirty four children about her. Her eyes burned in the half light and she lifted a hand to rub across them then her dry mouth. It came away wet.

That is the odd nature of nightmares- Oki mused- they were only capable of mirroring your own fears and regrets. It made it exceptionally easier to gauge which of the group of Genin were affected by their Exam the most. Some of them screamed and cried like the small children they were, others did not sleep at all too terrified of what might be lurking behind closed eyes and the most dangerous were the ones who slept blissfully. Oki did not make a move, put painstaking effort into hiding the unbidden flow of tears that assaulted her rest, and as a result had been consigned to the latter category.

But she hated those fitful sleepers the most.

She didn't feel as though they deserved their self-pity. She couldn't say that there was any sympathy left in her body for those that failed the exam _and_ those that passed. Itaru shuddered in his sleep from where he is tangled among the rest of the Genin, piled onto the floor of the cart with them and a single breadth away from Oki. He's the first one she recognised as surviving from her class. Drowsily, his eyes pulled open and he made a small noise of shock or discomfort. Oki turned her gaze from where she'd been watching the yellowed grin of the moon through the thin, wispy sheets that cover the back of the cart and coolly regarded him.

Itaru's single visible dark blue eye blinked back. He looked thinner than Oki remembered; his pale skin waxy and his visible eye sunken into his head by the bruise that rings it. There is a ragged line of cut skin, red-raw and furrowed like a framer's field, branching from the centre of his top lip up under his nose and chipped away a small dent in his right nostril. He looked invariably old for his young age, tired and regretful. It was likely she looked similar. And the thought incensed her, why should she look weak and tired when after…after that, strength was the only thing she had left? Her skills mark her now, not her kindness or her character, so what right does she have, _does any of them have, _to sit here looking like the goddamn victims?

Her attitude has been detached and somewhat unpleasant in the three days they'd been travelling to the Kirigakure camp in the Land of Wind. She'd hung over her travelling companions like a crow over a corpse, appearing unapologetic for how unaffected she was by their grief and settling into morning routines of Kenjutsu stances while they try to piece what is left of themselves back together again. She didn't rightly believe that she had the justification to act otherwise. A small bundle of self-loathing, black and twisting as it dug deep down in her, told her she'd made her bed, she could damn well sleep in it.

"Hot…" Itaru muttered.

It was; the air sticky and oven-warm in Oki's lungs. The conditions were in no way alleviated by how many sweating bodies had been crammed into the small space. The Jounin had made it perfectly clear that none of them were to exit the cart until told specifically that they could do so; Oki could see the merits considering that all the Genin were in unfamiliar and hostile territory and their already fragile state guaranteed that someone in their number would give them away.

Oki nodded in reply to his observation, before curtly cutting the conversation short by shifting her eyes outward again. Rivers of gold shifted beneath the night-time winds, the sky pitch black and ominous despite the best efforts of a moon that was more yellow than any Oki had ever seen before. The Land of Wind, or what little she had spied of it from behind that tattered curtain, was a land completely alien to Oki Tachibana.

"We…." Itaru shifted restlessly, trying to dig a leg out from under several sleeping Genin, "we should be close now, right? They said a couple of hours, right?"

"I dunno why ya askin' me," Oki replied bluntly with her eyes still fixed on the sweeping horizon of sand and sky.

Itaru audibly gulped, "I…I-I dunno. You just always s-s-seemed to have it together…y'know?"

No, Oki did not know.

Looking back on it all now, she had to wonder if she was ever completely aware of what she was doing. '_That's no excuse,'_ a nasty little voice began its snide commentary, ' _you knew and you still did it, you're vile, you're barely even human. More of a robot. And you thought Hajime was wrong when he called you heartless, heh, don't make me laugh. I wonder if even Zabuza wouldn't call you a monster now.'_

Oki rubbed her fingers against the sweating skin of her forehead. It was…irrelevant, she needed to focus. She couldn't….she couldn't allow herself to take herself into consideration. If everything she had done was all committed in the name of survival and ambition, then by rights that's all that should ever concern her ever again. Kenki's shy smiles and trusting hands gripping at her own, Nao's figure loyal and quietly adoring at her back and Zabuza's sharp grin and the comfort of his breath in the darkness were not things Oki was allowed to find solace in. If she was so capable of abandoning them, then clearly she'd never deserved them in the first place.

"Yeah, well," Oki shrugged, forcing herself to reply and appear unaffected, "Maybe I don't. And if I do, I don't see how that's any of ya business."

It shut Itaru up. He eased himself back down, watching Oki with one wary bruised eye and putting a ridiculous amount of effort into breathing as quietly as possible. Oki knew that her attitude was unnerving the other Genin and yet, she couldn't bring herself to _care_. She'd never rightly cared for their opinion anyway, only their regard and only when it concerned her. After everything even that had soured. She couldn't stand them, couldn't stand looking or talking to these scared children who only reminded her of what she'd done and what she'd lost in the process with every breathe they took.

The Jounin leading them had been a different matter.

They represented the future at least, in equal amounts horror and morbid fascination Oki_ could_ look at them. She didn't feel as though she was permitted to take comfort in the shared grief and young age of the Genin. She had wanted this future; she had clearly been too ungrateful with the succours of the past. Oki gritted her teeth and massaged her forehead again. _Stop thinking about it._

**_Please _**_stop thinking about it._

Fortunately Oki was granted reprieve. The flap at the front of the cart lifted a single inch; just enough for the Jounin seated at the front to flap his hand in the universal signal of 'keep quiet and keep low'.

"Wake up," he hissed.

Immediately and with the upmost care, those who were awake in the cart began to shake the others into consciousness. The atmosphere was tense; the group of nine to eleven year olds watching as candlelight cut through the chipped beams of the cart's wooden sides and made orange shutters across their faces. The cart eventually shuddered to a halt. Many of the children gripped one another partly to keep themselves steady and partly for something to hold onto to beat back the anxiety.

"The water runs smooth from east to west…" one of the Jounin spoke, his voice sharp and clear in the ringing silence.

"….Following the path of the rising sun," an unidentified voice replied.

There was a brief chuckle, a moment of familiar glances and smirks between old friends as Oki watched the spidery shadow of the Jounin pull himself from his perch at the front of the cart.

"Takihiro, been awhile," the unidentified voice broadcasted.

She heard him clap the Jounin on the back, the noise resounding through the crisp air and echoing across the empty shifting plains of the desert.

"Yep, new batch here. Thirty-five Genin, ready to go," the Jounin replied. He sparked a cigarette, the tiny flame of his lighter appearing waxy and supernatural through the thin material of the flap.

"Not all of them here, just the ones who made top of the list," the other grunted in reply, "the others head out towards the next camp, should be…." Papers flapped and Oki could hear each individual breath of the other children in the cart, "five here, one new team and two to make up the other one that was almost wiped out last month."

"Five?" the Jounin grunted with clear dissatisfaction, "don't you usually keep them all here?"

"Nah, not today," the other's voice was sympathetic in response, "need more reinforcements in the other camp but Lord Mizukage wants the ones with potential kept further away from the fighting. They're going straight on the Seven Swordsmen's 'maybe' candidates list; need to bolster the ranks y'know with so many spaces free suddenly."

Oki scowled, '_should they really be sharing this much information?'_ It was obvious that the two were on friendly terms-likely fostered whenever they needed to deliver and collect the newest batch of traumatised kids-but throwing all this around like it was simple gossip was not only unprofessional but messy too. It also didn't help to keep the panic to a minimum, as many of the other children were already looking wide-eyed and terrified at the prospect of being one of those sent out as 'reinforcements'. They all knew what the man had_really_ meant. Why he hadn't simply said 'cannon fodder' was beyond Oki. Mr Anzai had never tried to hide the true nature of anything before; here she suspected they'd have even less time or inclination to do so.

"Alright," the Jounin sighed, "who's coming off?"

"Hang on a sec," more papers rustled. '_He should have prepared this before_,' Oki's impatience snarled.

"Haruka Abe, Hozumi, Shunpei Morikawa, Akihiro Shimabukuro and Oki Tachibana," the other man shuffled towards the back, his silhouette cutting through the orange lines of light spilling into the cart as it went, and "you got them all?"

"None of them have died on the way up," the Jounin replied with an easy tone that suggested such a thing was not an irregularity.

His fist knocked against the side of the cart, causing many of the more nervous children to yelp.

"You five heard him? C'mon out."

The children looked to one another. Oki avoided their eyes, hands in her lap and gaze stubbornly locked onto some shadowy corner. She wasn't sure how she felt about the news. She had fully expected to be among that five, she'd worked her fingers to the bone for her Academy Ranking and if she were looking at her Exam performance from a completely clinical, cold perspective it was_ fast_ and it was clean. As clean as anything that resulted in two dead ten year olds could be.

But…

But still this feeling, that squirming, swallowing pit of guilt told her to stay in the wagon. Go die out on the frontlines. Because what fate was more apt for her now?

Another knock and it seemed to jolt not only Oki but several others into action. Even now Oki Tachibana did not want to die, even now she wanted to see that next sunrise and reach that illusive level of perfection. It kept her moving, up onto her knees then swinging out of the cart even as some of the other children began to plead and grip onto the bodies of those leaving. Oki slapped some one's hands away. If they were capable of killing their friends, what made them think they'd receive any mercy from her?

The five children stumbled from the cart, legs shaky from days of disuse and cramped conditions and eyes blinking rapidly in the weak light. The Jounin watched them with placid interest from behind the glowing end of his cigarette. His friend was peering at them, torch held aloft in one hand and clipboard in the other. His hooked noise and the diagonal scar across his nondescript features sent the shadows about his face into frenzy, while his bow-legs and apologetic posture looked ludicrously out of place in the desert setting.

"I always forget how small they are," the man murmured, watching the few children in the same manner someone watched a fish tank at an aquarium.

"I don't," the Jounin grunted then jerked his head towards Oki, "Besides I think that one's the tallest we've had in a while. I don't think they've got much on Kushimaru Kuriarare's record though."

"Speaking of him, y'know he's at the top of the Swordsmen's potential candidates list, heard he did a number on some Uchiha Jounin, saved the Strike Team in the Land of Fire," the man seemed to catch himself, shaking his head he visibly reasserted himself back on track, "Anyway, I'll head these five up, you need to take shelter for the night?"

The Jounin paused; sucking on his cigarette and watching the smoke hazily drift into the desert landscape as he thought it over.

Eventually he shook his head and made his way towards the cart again, "No. Need to get these to the other camp before they start getting panicky. See you next month."

"Ah! Takehiro!" the man paused at the other's call before gesturing for him to continue, "You won't be seeing me for some time. Didn't you hear?"

"Hear what?" the Jounin grunted, half-in and half-out the front seat of the cart.

"The Academy's Evaluation practices, they've been abolished. Some kid lost his cool and murdered an entire class; it'll be some time before the Academy'll be able to build up a decent amount again," the man supplied before smiling, "well, goodbye."

No, 'I'll see you around' this time. With the greater period of time between the duo's second meeting it was more probable that one, the other or both would be dead before then.

"Bye," the Jounin nodded then snapped the reins to get the Oxen moving again.

Oki stared after him, watching the beasts' hooves kick up plumes of pale sand as they ridged another hill. Theirs had been the last year to participate in the Examination Process. If Nao and she had entered just a year later, perhaps it would have been Nao's name on that list.

Oki was suddenly struck by a powerful urge to simultaneously laugh and cry.

…..

The first thing they did was hose them down. The man (who jabbered on insistently as he lead the five children towards a ring of stained, easily destroyed tents underneath an overhang of sandy rock) was keen to inform them that it was important that they appear a collective unit. Oki hadn't shared his opinion. They were in foreign land, surely being as inconspicuous as possible was the key aim here?

When she discovered the nature of their camp, it was clear that discretion was an important afterthought. It was more of a recharging point than anything geared solely for combat. Underground bunkers acted as storage for the Kirigakure force's supplies (weapons, food, armour, scrolls Oki was sure there was more) and kept as a make-shift hospital so the camps nearby wouldn't drastically drop in numbers, and an information point for decoding messages and giving the Jounin Commanders enough breathing space to devise complex strategies when those larger pushes into the desert were needed. The entrances to these bunkers were covered by the tents that Oki discovered housed only the more fatally injured Shinobi, or in plainer terms those less likely to survive the night. Those few Kiri Nin who had devoted their careers to medical Jutsu and the few who could be spared made up for nearly half of the camp's number, the others were either injured or trained and ordered specifically to protect the Medic Nin out in the field.

Therefore it was unsurprising that the five recruits were not allowed to take even a half-step into the camp without being thoroughly jet-washed first. Lice, disease and just general hygiene issues could easily cause a problem with so many Shinobi in tenuous states around. Although, Oki thought the high-powered Water Jutsu may have been overkill. It only proved that some childish part of Oki Tachibana had still survived somewhere, as she poured every ounce of her concentration into looking as unruffled and strong as possible throughout the process.

"There, I think that's enough Captain Yuki," the man edged warily, darting back when Hozumi (a pallid-faced boy with a constantly pinched expression and harassed attitude) tumbled past him and into a sand dune.

Captain Mayako Yuki maintained the same cool, polite air that she had displayed upon first introducing herself. Oki found her somewhat disturbing; mainly because the 'cordial host' persona she had given had not flinched throughout her violent behaviour. In fact what Oki had seen of Captain Yuki through the stinging water in her eyes, the woman had actually continued to smile gently throughout the ministrations. Even Oki was not confident enough to admit the woman's behaviour didn't scare her shitless.

"Nonsense," she murmured then without a hair out of place, proceeded to knock the living daylights out of the Genin with another blast of icy water. Oki took it with her jaw clenched, her eyes narrowed and her legs shaking as if they were about to fall apart at any moment.

"There, I think they'll be clean enough now," Captain Yuki nodded in the same mild, non-offensive movements that she performed during anything (which, ironically, Oki was beginning to suspect the majority of her 'performances' were likely to be harsh and _extremely_ offensive).

Towels were distributed to the Genin, who were still somewhat shell-shocked and in response dithered about with gratefulness. Their old clothes were peeled from their backs and set into a sodden pile, while the man began to place their new uniform at the feet of each drying Genin. Oki eyed the garments with pragmatic interest. The blue striped shirt and slate grey Shinobi flak jacket seemed too heavy for the scorching temperatures of the Land of Wind Oki had witnessed so far. Fingerless gloves, tight black trousers, new Shinobi sandals (of far superior quality to the ratty, wooden ones Oki had inherited for years now) and a Kirigakure Forehead Protector completed the assemble.

Oki could only stare. It was the uniform of a Shinobi and despite everything it suddenly struck_ then_, that she too was one. It didn't seem to fit. Oki Tachibana, orphan, ten year old,_Shinobi_. She felt too big or too small (impossible to decipher which) for all three mantels but_especially_ the last. Wasn't this what she had worked for? Scarified her time, her friends, her family and thousands of little pieces of herself along the way for? So why was she uncomfortable? Why did the material proof Oki threaded through her fingers and wiped shivering thumbs over the reflective metal front; seem like such an intruder in her hands? Her ambitions had led to this, and perhaps Oki was too stunned or maybe even too afraid to question whether they had been worth the price she had paid.

With a cool expression, Oki donned her uniform and told that vile, _welcome_ little voice to shut up.

"Finished?" the chatty man from before jogged over towards her.

Oki hesitated as he bent down to retrieve her discarded clothes and then with a final firm nod snagged the goggles Hajime had bought her (or stolen, he'd never really confirmed either way and now he was dead so there was no way of knowing) from the pile. They were still garish and ugly but they were the last tie Oki had to '_before_', when it seemed the system she'd thrown herself into was so intent on eradicating it. The goggles didn't signify what they used to, but that was fine. Through masochism or a lingering sense of loyalty to the girl who'd play fought with Zabuza Momochi in that bare, little bolthole, Oki could not find it within herself to cut every tie. She wanted to. Dear Lord, how she wanted to.

"Alright, done," she nodded to the man who hadn't commented.

Oki slicked back her wet hair, pulled her goggles back onto her head then secured her Forehead Protector about her upper thigh (at least that way she could cover it with her baggy shirt, should she need to quickly conceal her status).

"Everyone, form a line," Captain Yuki murmured in her soft voice; it was what Oki imagined a Hostess at one of the few Kirigakure Tea Houses would sound like and it still managed to contain commanding undertones.

The five Genin robotically moved into position. They'd been schooled enough on military address that the actions were almost instinctive. Oki found herself, ramrod straight and arms folded behind her back, beside the Hozumi boy and Shunpei Morikawa. Morikawa reeked of medicinal herbs and strong incense, the coppery scent of blood lingering underneath the two cleaner smells. Oki forced herself not to shift. She wasn't keen on the way Morikawa smelt and she was less enamoured with his watery eyes.

"Right," Captain Yuki smiled close-eyed, "Oki Tachibana and Akihiro Shimabukuro, could you both step forward please?"

Oki strode forward one step, leaving both Morikawa and Hozumi behind her. A pale haired girl (difficult to pin-point whether she was blonde or white-haired in the limited light both lamp and moon casted) with small delicate frame, small delicate features and an angry line running across the strip of her throat lingered at the fringe of the group. The only other boy was the one who levelled with Oki.

Akihiro Shimabukuro.

Oki couldn't forget that name purely because it was the same one she'd been struggling to uproot from the top of the Academy Rankings. Despite her best efforts she hadn't had a good look at the boy until now. Other students hadn't seemed to remember him, even if he'd been in their class. The name of course was recognised but whenever Oki had pressed for a corresponding face all she'd received was frustrated confusion. Glancing at him now, Oki could understand why.

The boy was perfectly nondescript. Average height and weight for his age, average faced, brown hair, brown eyes and a smile that was somewhat…dopey. He'd cropped half his hair short so that his shoulder-length mousy brown hair only hung down one side of his face, but that was by far the most individual characteristic the boy possessed. He just didn't register as a threat on _any _level. And that alone only made Oki that much more conscious of him. She wasn't scared, she was confident enough not to be, but she _was_ interested.

"You two will be joining Chukichi under Captain Narumi," Captain Yuki turned to smile at them both, elegant dark hair swaying like silk with the motion, "and please do try not to get yourselves killed too early, it would be a great inconvenience to the rest of us."

Oki had known she should have just nodded and continued, but mastery in subtle conversation and tact had never been one of her skills.

"And it'd probably be a bigger one to us," Oki frowned, "Don't worry; I ain't dying soon…not now."

Captain Yuki merely regarded her for a moment (and Oki could see it, see the 'they all say that' flashing across the young woman's face) before she blinked and merely smiled at Oki.

"Please ensure you don't," was the only reply the Jounin gave before smoothly and swiftly turning to address her new Genin Team.

It wasn't difficult to navigate the camp. Each tent (of only the five that had been erected) were filled with three futons and most were full of unconscious or bleary eyed Shinobi missing arms, legs or any sense of cognizance. The camp itself had been artfully huddled into a darker corner of an outcropping of small mountains, invisible to anyone scanning from the outside but vulnerable if they were discovered and the enemy Shinobi decided to bring the rock down on them. The air seemed more stagnant there, caught from between the gaps in the grainy, orange stone and left to spoil in to the tiny valley. The late hour and the cautious lack of light meant the shadows of the mountains stretched out across the tiny valley, almost completely engulfing the tents that nestled in its nooks and crannies.

If the view from outside the cart had been alien, the valley looked to Oki as though it were a chunk of another planet that had crash-landed.

The Shimabukuro boy whispered a juvenile 'wow' before continuing to whistle and stumble about beside her. Oki glanced across once. Was he purposely trying to give an empty-headed impression or was the boy honestly simple. She couldn't immediately tell, though Oki didn't see the merits in either. Making an enemy underestimate you was an intelligent tactic but Akihiro Shimabukuro wasn't among 'the enemy' at the moment and it was better to avoid being singled out as a weakling least the others decided to take advantage. The very fact he'd survived to this point meant he was skilled enough to pass the Graduation Exam, and that disputed that he clearly couldn't be _too_ dim-witted. Maybe she was judging too fast, being critical and straight-forward was in her nature but when had she begun to size everyone up as potential opponents?

"It's warm," Akihiro suddenly spoke in a slow but easy voice, as if the words had just trickled out of his mouth and it was only happy confidence that they actually meant something.

"It is, yeah," Oki replied bluntly but not aggressively. She didn't really see the point in making a deal about conversation either way. He'd been neither rude nor clingy. The curiosity she felt at observing who exactly had held the number one spot in the Year Rankings was the first mental thread she had in a while that didn't end in images of burnt bodies and blood.

"Not warm in Kirigakure," Akihiro said again after an awkwardly long pause.

"It…was," Oki replied, wondering if he was going somewhere with this.

"But it's warm here," Akihiro nodded and smiled as if he were sufficiently proud of himself for making that observation.

Oki sighed. She could perform the same Kenjutsu stance over and over and over again until it was more of an instinctive muscle spasm than conscious movement, she could read the same paragraph on Genjutsu methodology five times before her brain began making sense of it, but she had no patience for human failings.

"Look," Oki frowned down at him and with the candid speech she was known for questioned, "Are you like retarded or something?"

Akihiro hummed in thought (for an awfully long time, Oki noted), "Hrmmm…I dunno."

She raised a brow, "Ya dunno if you're an idiot?"

"Oh!" Akihiro widened his eyes in understanding, smiled benignly and gave multiple enthusiastic nods, "Nope, I am kinda stupid, right now anyway it's just…wow, the moon looks big here."

When Akihiro absent-mindedly trailed off mid-sentence, Oki's frown turned disbelieving. She watched him intently for a moment, attempting to pick out any tell-tale signs that this was some elaborate act. But no…Oki was observant and the way the boy's gaze slowly turned from one thing to another to another with snail-like speed and the same dazed attitude as before, took far too much effort never mind attention to detail than Oki could imagine someone capable of holding for so long.

"Shimabukuro," Oki began, shortening her side to keep pace with the boy who'd absent-mindedly wandered towards a cactus.

It took far too long for him to register her presence, "Oh, yep? Can I help you?"

"What did ya mean?"

"….Huh?" Akihiro cocked his head, eyes on her face for a moment before they inevitably idly drifted towards a point somewhere to her left.

"The answer ya gave," Oki spoke sharply to keep him on track and predictably his cow-eyed gaze moved back to hers, "what did ya mean by 'right now anyway'?"

"Oh…I'm sorry, I can't remember the question," Akihiro smiled bashfully, blushed and scratched at the sheared side of his head.

Oki resisted the urge to slap herself or more likely him, "I asked if ya were dumb and ya said ya are _'right now'_."

"Oh! Oh, I get it!" Akihiro beamed, the smiles he gave were particularly innocent and benign and made Oki think of cows munching on grass.

"It's cause I'm from the Shimabukuro Clan," Akihiro shrugged helplessly, still smiling at her, "so when I'm like this it's like it's _real_ hard to hold onto a thought…hmm, kinda like trying to hold soap when you've got wet hands."

"Shimabukuro Clan," Oki mused and opened her mouth to ask more but Akihiro was smiling vacantly at her.

"It's hot here, right?" he said amiably.

Oki decided that it wasn't worth pursuing right now, for the good of both the continued health of herself and Akihiro Shimabukuro.

"Hey, do you know what we're meant to be doing?" Akihiro jogged up to her as she strode towards the camp again.

"Finding the woman we'll be servin' under," Oki replied, "A Captain Narumi."

"Okay, cool," Akihiro nodded, paused then said, "….hmm, do you by any chance know whose meant to be on my team?"  
'My Team' Oki noted and wondered how Akihiro Shimabukuro was incapable of holding a conversation without it referring to 'it's hot here' but _still _had enough social tact to ask a question without directly asking a question. Namely 'are you on my team? Because I've forgotten who you are'. At least this looked like it was likely to be the punishment a large part of Oki felt she rightly deserved. Having a teammate who seemed likely to follow 'shiny objects' into an enemy camp was sure to test what little patience she had.  
Either way she decided not to answer.

"Okay," Akihiro smiled blithely like Oki _had_ answered anyway.

She blinked, and discovered that she'd never missed the stupid arguments she'd had with Zabuza with such fervour as much as she did now.

….

There was a boy already waiting for them when Akihiro and Oki made it towards the last tent. All the tents were tan and thin, looking more like wing membranes than the bulky tarp they would have used in Nishihama.

"You Tachibana and Shimabukuro?" the boy asked gruffly.

Before Akihiro could so much as nod, Oki replied for them, "who's askin?"

Thus far, she'd been appalled at how easily the Shinobi here had handed out information. Information had, after all, been stressed as the key weapon every Shinobi had in the Academy. She already knew that this boy was likely this other teammate Captain Yuki had mentioned, but Oki felt the need to make a point. She wasn't giving anything away carelessly. She'd done too much, sacrificed too much to die now through her own stupidity.

"Chukichi," the boy replied simply and if that didn't give away that he was a 'man of few words', the fact he stood there watching them both expectantly certainly did.

Only people who were accustomed to being as mute as they could get away with would do that. Others couldn't resist verbally repeating the question when the silence began to drip into the realm of uncomfortable.

Nao had been quiet but it was completely different to this boy. Nao had been silent because she was so used to being ignored and therefore didn't _anticipate_ being noticed, and those few occasions people other than Oki that_had _noticed the golden-eyed girl the attention had not been the type you could reply well to. This Chukichi acted as though his silence was completely intentional and existed solely because he didn't have the inclination _to_ speak with them. If Akihiro had inspired bland irritation, the only thing Chukichi was inspiring in Oki was an immediate sense of disgust.

Chukichi appeared to be two years older than Oki and Akihiro' twelve to their ten years. He was podgy, small eyed but soft faced with short dark hair and two arcing blue marks sweeping along the peach-like skin of his cheeks. His Forehead Protector was wrapped around his neck-in what Oki thought was probably an attempt to cover the rolls peeking underneath-and his stare was vaguely judgemental in that sympathetic (Oki preferred patronising) penetrating manner Zabuza had sworn (colourfully and with _generous_ gusto) at a temple priest for. Oki Tachibana was taller than him and despite his thick build, inherently more intimidating than Akihiro Shimabukuro, Chukichi and the tent behind him combined. But still Chukichi somehow managed to look like he was looking down on them, like they were poor lost strays that had misguidedly fallen from their path.

She wanted to remind him that they were all in the same damn boat but that would be a lie. None of them were equal, never had been. Zabuza Momochi had been the closest thing to an equal Oki Tachibana had ever had and that was purely because some unnamed_ thing_ inside both their brains clicked the same way. So she didn't spoon him that idealised lie.

Instead she said, "They feeding ya well here then," and took some small measure of sadistic triumph in watching his jaw clench.

"They must be," Akihiro nodded obliviously, "Mr Chukichi is very fat for a boy and you can't get fat if people don't feed you," Akihiro nodded sagely, "Except if you're a fat animal like a puffer fish….hmm, where were we meant to be going again?"

The question was aimed at Oki; who Akihiro had leaned around to address face to face, smile still distracted and apologetic. Oki however was busy watching Chukichi try to wrangle his temper back into control with a far less apologetic scrutiny than Akihiro. She'd never bothered with these barbing games like some of the other's in Group C, but then again she'd never been interested enough in one of them to do so. Usually she fought with Zabuza, fists or words and often both, but Zabuza was not here and this boy had looked at her like she was corrupted when _that_ type of corruption was perhaps the _only_ equal thing among them all here.

"….Captain Narumi's in there," Chukichi eventually. His fists clenched and unclenched as he opened the tent flap. She could measure exactly how much Chukichi wanted to punch both her and Akihiro by how loudly his teeth grinded against one another as they passed.

The cramped space of the tent was nothing but a mess of hot air, the thick smell of blood and something spoiling and an inescapable sense of claustrophobia. She wasn't sure when Akihiro had decided to use her as a human shield, but feeling the boy trying to squash himself into her back was neither appreciated nor helping the suffocating atmosphere.

"It smells like dead people," Akihiro whispered.

Oki nodded towards the motionless shape under a nearby blanket and bluntly replied, "I think it's 'cause that dude's dead."

"Oh," Akihiro mumbled, "dead people smell like dead people."

Oki smirked, more to relieve the uncharacteristic rush of paranoia that came with having someone standing that near her, "ya logic is flawless. And back up."

"Not enough room, sorry," Akihiro muttered, "besides your hair looks so pretty in here."

Pretty was not a word anyone had ever used to describe Oki Tachibana. And she very much preferred it that way.

"Y'know I can castrate ya without a knife," she replied with a shark-toothed grin, "it gets real messy."

In a rare display of intelligence, Akihiro Shimabukuro wisely chose to 'back up'.

Unfortunately in doing so, Akihiro tripped over a small figure hunched by the nearest bed and slipped with a yelp. A gnarled hand shot out and caught the boy, the elder's iron grey hair never deviating from where it was bent over a man's severed leg.

Oki whirled round while Akihiro dumbly followed the path of his arm down to the woman's hand then up again. Chukichi shot into the tent, his eyes scanning Oki first then Akihiro with clear suspicion though he remained silent.

"Please be more careful in future young man," the elder spoke, identifying herself as a woman and in tones dry and rasping with age, "you're likely to hurt yourself."

"Thanks," Akihiro beamed, still remaining elevated by the old woman's grasp.

She nodded then seemingly satisfied with inspecting the man's leg struggled to her feet. Oki swore she could hear the woman's bones groan like old wood. In fact even the woman's appearance reminded Oki of old wood as she turned to smile at the trio. Face oval and so wrinkled that her eyes disappeared into the seams, liver spots crinkled up in the lines of her forehead and grey hair-thin and wispy-was kept clean away from her forehead by a combination of one long plait and the bandana style of her Forehead Protector. She looked the perfect image of kind, old grandma and Oki momentarily hated her for the duplicity.

No one who was truly kind would be here.

It was likely the old woman had designed herself to make them think that way too. _Snake_, Oki's mind whispered and once again she wondered when adults (everyone around her really) had become subject to this new paranoia.

"I am Captain Narumi; it is my pleasure to be your teacher."

…..

"Whoa today has been good! I like it here….though it is hot. And that old lady was really nice, it's a good thing because there was another lady who scared me a lot when we first came….hmm, I can't remember who that was…."

Oki listened idly as Akihiro jabbered about in Team Narumi's shared quarters. Three hammocks lined one wall, each swinging above the other, and she had secured the top one. Their quarters were located in the Underground Bunker and existed solely of an almost closet-sized space that barely fit their bodies when sleeping. All this she had registered numbly, she was too tired for anything else and too disillusioned by her new 'team' to listen closely through the introductions Captain Narumi had insisted on. She didn't want to know what foods Akihiro Shimabukuro liked or what genre of music Captain Narumi listened to in her free time. She just wanted to be put to use so she could stop thinking.

She folded her arms under her head and waited until the boy settled. He did, eventually, wishing her a good night with a dopey, amiable smile. He enthused how excited he was for their gauging match tomorrow to Chukichi on the bottom hammock (who still eyed both him and Oki as if they were a sneeze away from a homicidal rage) before clambering into his own bed.

The candle went out, the air was dusty and Oki was squeezed into a strange room with two strange children in a strange land. She turned to her side, foolishly expecting there to be a skinny back when she knew there wouldn't be. She breathed once wetly to contain the sudden rush of helplessness.

She didn't feel like she should be allowed to feel alone.

But that first night, when no one was looking and in the darkness, Oki Tachibana discovered that she'd never felt so alone and scared as she did then.

**A/N:**

**I haven't checked this chapter over, but I really wanted to get it out so advance apologies for any terrible mistakes. Team Narumi, opinions so far? ;) Akihiro's new (though he was briefly mentioned last chapter which should give a clue to whether or not he's as dangerous as he initially appears) and so is Narumi, but Chukichi is a Canon Character. Captain Yuki is also a member of the Yuki Clan and therefore a relative (albeit very distant one) of Haku. It's difficult to write a Kiri fic when there's so few Kiri characters (and ones that would be around Oki's age) but hopefully I'm not pissing people of with the large amount of OCs, Kisame will show up but not in Sungakure, while Ao, Mei and the other Swordsmen all play parts…oh and Zabuza od course XD I've wrote more but that involves Chukichi vs. Akihiro and Oki and I wanted to see if anyone guessed Akihiro's Kekkai Genkai first ;p**

**Reviewer Replies:**

**HeartAuror: Thank you so much for such a lovely review! I can't believe you said Oki was the best OC you've found on the site so far, it made me happy dance :D This review seriously made my day so thank you again and it's very much appreciated!**

**Countenance: Thank you so much for the continued support, yeah killing Nao was hard and harder I guess because you could tell it was coming. Thanks again for the review!**

**Tough Chick: XD That review is made so much funnier by your penname XD Thanks for the review! It's good to know Nao's death actually had an impact on the people reading :]**

**CreepyNick1: Yep Zabuza thinks Nao's corpse was Oki since the dead body was wearing Oki's jacket. The thing with the Explosive Tags in the jacket was devised between Oki and Nao, so they both knew they were there. That was what Oki was practically begging Nao to say no to, because Oki knew her survival instincts and selfish streak would win out in the end and she'd ask Nao to act as a sacrifice. Thanks for the review!**

**TurtleBiscuit: So glad you think Oki's actions were believable, I didn't want to make her into a complete ass but although we like to think differently I think a lot of us would choose to save our own lives than a friend's (or am I just being cynical? XD). I'm seriously glad you said Zabuza was IC and you're description of him was bang-on it's just so frustrating trying to get that weird balance Zabuza has -.- he should stop being a stubborn ass…but then again that's why I like him :3 Thanks so much for the review!**

**Ceradin: Thank you very much for the review! I was really happy that you thought both Zabuza and Oki were awesome :D Oki and Zabuza will meet up again, and there will be a Tachibana Family reunion (or what's left of the Tachibana family) but that's all I'm telling ;p **

**SadisticAvocado: Thanks for the review :D I love the fact that this has arcs XD Maybe I should add a Pony Arc later on :D And yeah, Oki's fighting style is pretty precise and ruthless which I am so going to enjoy shaping over her Genin, Chunin career!**

**And a huge THANK YOU to all you people you have followed, favourited and read this! Your support is much appreciated :D**


	15. 15: Chukichi doesn't play well

Chukichi doesn't play well with others.

The beginning of Oki's first day was anything but graceful. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on perspective) only her new teammates were there to witness it. Hammocks took some practice when you were unaccustomed to them, something Oki Tachibana learned the hard way when Chukichi tapped her awake and she failed, tangling herself in Hammock, then onto Akihiro and his Hammock below and then finally crashing down on Chukichi's vacant one.

It wasn't an elegant descent. Nor was it exempt of its causalities.

"My balls!" Akihiro squealed, clutching afore-mentioned portion of part of his anatomy, "Holy Shit, my balls!"

He wheezed as Oki extracted her knee, but gasped again when the attempt only resulted in her becoming tangled and ending up kicking him in the face instead. Two podgy hands reached down, and with a gentleness that belied his size and previous gruff and condescending attitude, Chukichi unravelled them both. The twelve year old set Oki on her feet without looking directly at her once, then immediately set about hoisting Akihiro up from where the boy was worming around on the bare floor.

Oki yanked the loose threads of her Hammock away with a frown. That wasn't exactly the impression she'd been hoping to make. Chukichi was still putting obvious effort into avoiding looking at either of them, but Akihiro was up and watching her with a suspicious pout, hands alternating between his bloody nose and his crotch.

"What?" Oki questioned blandly.

"I don't know what I did," Akihiro replied in a watery voice, "But I'm very sorry, please don't try to kill me with a Hammock or kick my balls back into my body again…."

Oki raised a brow. Chukichi coughed quietly.

Akihiro clearly picked up on the social queue; unfortunately it was the wrong one.

"….Thank you," he nodded as if he had just made a grand speech.

"…..Accidental," Chukichi muttered so softly that both Genin wouldn't have realised the boy had spoken if it weren't for the movement of his lips.

"What?" Akihiro blinked vacantly.

"It was accidental," Oki elaborated, "I-"

"What was?" Akihiro only looked mildly confused, "Did I miss something? …Man, my balls hurt all of a sudden."

Oki glanced at Chukichi. Chukichi glanced at Oki. They'd only really interacted for about an hour, but both could already sense that this was likely to become a common occurrence with Akihiro Shimabukuro.

The boy in question blinked again, languidly as if even that was a struggle, and then jerked up to peer at Oki's face. She instantly stepped back, teeth glinting and body locking itself in combat readiness. Akihiro merely continued to peep up at her vacantly.

"….Your eyes are wet."

At that, Oki Tachibana was the one who blinked. She could feel Chukichi's eyes on her back and the unnerving lazy stare of Akihiro was as cutting as something so dull could possibly be. Oki's arm jerked up. This, she didn't want them to see. _Anything_ of her, she didn't want them to see. In her exhaustion she'd forgotten to factor in that living in such close quarters with others was bound to end in the unearthing of aspects of her that were better left buried. But…when had anyone else, besides Zabuza in his own rough way, bothered to notice? People had always been interested in Oki Tachibana the idol, and choosing to look over the things that didn't correlate with that image had both been a relief and a constant source of frustration for Oki and her admirers.

Akihiro Shimabukuro and Chukichi didn't know Oki Tachibana the prodigy.

All they'd seen was Oki Tachibana, the skinny girl with a boyish face.

She needed to amend that. If she didn't have her image, Oki was too terrified of seeing what little was now left behind it.

"It don't matter," she replied, thankful that her voice sounded as cool and husky as ever, "Just not used to the sand."

"Yep," Akihiro nodded blithely smiling, "There's lots of it here too….and it's really warm."

"Get dressed," Chukichi interrupted, "then breakfast."

And with that, the stout boy swiftly marched from the room. Oki didn't bother watching him go; instead pulling her uniform over the vest and ratty pants she'd worn to sleep. It fit wrong, the sleeves too long and the shoulders too large, the flak jacket cutting into her stomach in all the wrong places and pinching underneath her arms.

The metaphor was not entirely lost on Oki.

….

The bunker was a compart of few corridors and large, segregated rooms. The fastidious order of the place felt right to Oki, who'd always had controlling tendencies. The wing for injured Shinobi was at the forefront of the Bunker (two large rooms with low ceilings and regimented lines of neatly made futons, clean and bare and as impersonal despite the warm honey tones of the walls). Next came the living quarters (two for the newly formed Team Narumi and Team Yuki, another for a group of Chunin that had yet to be introduced and the last for the Two Jounin on camp) with an obvious scale difference between the Genins' rooms and the others. These four rooms opened out onto a small seating area with a heated plate at the centre and sitting cushions stacked against the wall. At the very rear of the Bunker, behind heavy doors and multiple protection Seals lurked the Supply Centre.

Chukichi made it clear (with as few words as he could manage to squash threats into) that these were off limits until either Captain Yuki or Captain Narumi said otherwise. The supplies behind those bulky, metal doors kept the Kirigakure forces here running and any mistake, no matter how seemingly trivial, could later prove detrimental to their efforts. Oki had not fully realised how much came into this brutal incursion into the Land of Wind. All she had predicted was fighting, but the logistics of keeping so many Shinobi where they were not welcome was no small task. A sudden drop in food supplies could snuff them all out as surely as an S Class Jutsu.

Oki's musings were filtered through the meaty smoke of their breakfast cooking. She wasn't sure who'd left the hard meat on the Hot Plate (six servings for the six Genin, strictly separated and looking pathetic in size) but Chukichi gave her little time to mull it over as he shoved the meat into her hands.

"What is it?" Akihiro stared at the browned meat speckled with bright orange, grease dripping down his pale fingers.

"Food," Chukichi grunted as he tore into his own meal, "Eat."

Akihiro apprehensively pressed it to his lips, constantly glancing at Chukichi for confirmation before chomping down and nearly taking his fingers with it.

"Ya not a big talker, huh?" Oki muttered. It drew attention away from the fact that she wasn't eating until she was sure Akihiro wasn't about to turn purple and explode.

"No, no, no," Akihiro enthusiastically shook his head, "I like talking."

"Meant the other one," she nodded unapologetically at Chukichi.

He glanced up, dark eyes like little buttons in his face, "….No. Why're you stalling?"

"I'm waiting to see it kills that guy," Oki replied.

Akihiro's head flashed up from stuffing his face, "Huh?"

"Won't," Chukichi replied, "No point."

"Not for them," Oki smirked, "But for _you_, maybe. Ya don't like us much, an' I'm guessing it's got something to do with where these uniforms come from, right?"

Chukichi's eyes flashed with naked guilt, his huge bulk loosening as the fingers slipped from his mouth. It was a glimpse. A tiny window into whatever was swirling him about inside the boy. But it was enough for Oki to know she'd hit the mark. For all his efforts afterwards, the hard edge of his eyes and immediate tightening in his arms, it was ultimately futile.

Oki only watched.

Her baiting had not been motivated by maliciousness. It was pure, merciless tactics. She wasn't comfortable with the notion of relying on these two strangers, and even less so after their discovery of her watery eyes this morning. She needed Chukichi's revealed vulnerability like a poker player needed cards.

On a deeper level, these people prickled at her skin. _People_ generally at the moment set off a nauseous feeling in her gut. She couldn't help watching and wondering, seeing faces and motives that weren't there. She wondered if this was how Zabuza had seen the world. Over-attentiveness could be just as damaging as under-attentiveness, it lead to wrong assumptions and acting on them could prove disastrous. '_Man up'_, she tried to shake herself, '_stop thinking, just concentrate on the things that matter now.'_

The things that matter _now_.

Or the things she had to believe mattered.

Oki cut the thought dead, it was going nowhere and she was too tired and too raw to entertain it.

"…Not poisoned," Chukichi eventually responded then bodily turned his body away from his two teammates.

They didn't speak for the rest of the meal (besides Akihiro attempting to resurrect past commentaries on the temperature again). Oki preferred it. She was investing as much energy into finding her feet as she was into hiding that she was. Even the food here was different. She didn't like it, hot and dry and spiced so heavily that the tang clogged her throat in one tight, scorching lump.

Afterwards Chukichi lead them down the dim hallways again, ascended the metal stairs before popping the hatch open. It was heavy enough that she could see the muscles in his arms bunch underneath the fabric of his shirt. The dry heat of the air outside almost sucked the air from her lungs. Twisting through the tent and its groaning inhabitants, Team Narumi stepped out into the small valley and blinked in the early morning sunlight.

The sky seemed to stretch on forever in the desert.

Oki, used to the mist and persistent overhanging presence of rainclouds, had never seen it look so blue.

"Spar first," Chukichi voiced (the first time he'd spoken since the issue at breakfast).

"Okay," Akihiro nodded and beamed before frowning, "Hmm, what about the old lady."

"_Captain Narumi_," Chukichi stressed, "is busy."

"Doin' what?" Oki asked.

"….Work," was Chukichi's illusive reply and any further inquiries were halted as he began marking a rough circle in the sand.

Oki watched for a moment before tilting her head towards the shortest of the trio, "So what can ya do?"

"Do?" Akihiro blinked.

"In combat," Oki clenched and unclenched her hands, limbering up as she watched the way Chukichi moved with hawk-like intensity, "what ya good for?"

"Hmmm…I got my Kekkai Genkai I guess," he pursed his lips, "Couple of Water Jutsu and my Uncle used to say I was….Hmmm, oh, I forgot what he said," Akihiro frowned to himself before looking up at Oki with dull curiosity, "Are we really going to fight the fat boy?"

"Nope," Oki grinned, "We're gonna beat him."

_This_ she could do. This was what she was now built for. And for what comfort that thought brought, it also buried some part of her with questions. Questions that had unwanted and hideous answers.

"That's good," Akihiro gave a dopey smile, "I don't want him to sit on me."

She laughed despite herself, while Akihiro glanced about apparently looking for the source of her sudden amusement. Still chuckling to herself, Oki adjusted the sleeves of her shirt. It was already sticking to her skin and impatience finally won out, Oki decided to tear the sleeves off at the elbows before pacing through stretches. Akihiro breathed out a sigh, long half of his hair blowing faintly in the wind.

"Alright," he clapped, "better get ready."

Oki paused, watching him with intense interest as she loosened her calf muscles. Akihiro brought his hands up in a Seal Oki did not recognise; it vaguely reminded her of the Tiger seal with both his middle and index fingers meeting at the middle and lying belly to belly, but the ring and little fingers were pointing sharply downwards and the thumbs had crossed one another at the backs of his palms. He licked his lips suddenly looking unsure of himself. It was an expression Oki had seen many times on classmates-_former _classmates, she amended with a mental wince- that had been coerced into something they didn't want to do by their friends. It was strange seeing it on Akihiro Shimabukuro. He'd been absent-minded and cheerful, what short attention span he did possess had dwindled onto something else before he could dwell long enough on the subject _to_ be unnerved.

"Honne."

At the word, Akihiro's body began to peel straight down the middle. Oki startled momentarily but managed to hold steady, watching as Akihiro's body parted like a hand through water. They wavered there a moment, two halves of Akihiro Shimabukuro blinking in unison before the edges rippled and filled out into two wholes. One snorted. The other tucked a stray lock of hair behind his Forehead Protector (hair which was sheared on the opposite side to the other).

"Tachibana," the nod was crisp, business-like and the tone so vastly more mature than the boy who'd screamed 'My Balls!' only hours prior.

Not only the voice but his stance, his mannerisms, the look in his eyes and the very atmosphere surrounding Shimabukuro was completely different. If Oki had not just witnessed it and seen the boy who'd split into two identical boys beforehand; she would have had difficulty ever correlating the two. It was only seeing the intelligence in Akihiro's (_Akihiros' _maybe) eyes that underlined how mired down the boy had seemed before, as if he were a near-blind man suddenly being handed a pair of glasses.

She forgot the heat and the vicious bite of her own heavy matted feelings; and grinned.

"That's bloody brilliant," she breathed.

"I take it you haven't seen-" one Akihiro spoke.

"-the Shimabukuro Kekkai Genkai before?" the other finished.

They blinked in unison, and Oki was hit yet again by how eerie and impressive what she had just seen was. It was her first time seeing a Kekkai Genkai, classes had been separated and Oki's own reputation had kept any would be challengers at bay. A thousand questions surged onto her tongue.

Akihiro (both of them) seemed to sense the flood and held up a placating hand. Even the way he moved was incredibly mature for his age. Oki wondered if his behaviour was a result of Clan Education or simply a quirk that belonged solely to the boy himself.

"I intend to answer your questions," one spoke while the other set about stretching his muscles, "as concisely as I can. We are both Akihiro in a single body or perhaps it's more apt to say we are twins usually squashed into the same body. It is easier if you call myself, Aki."

"And me Hiro," the other inputted.

"Our Kekkai Genkai is _not_ a simple Clone Technique," Aki frowned as if he'd stepped into something….unhygienic, "Both Hiro and I are capable of our own individual thoughts and Chakra supplies; the easiest analogy would be two separate rivers formed by the same pool."

Oki mulled it over. She could see the blaring advantages, subterfuge would prove easier when you could deploy and conceal another agent at will. It also had definite perks in combat considering that both Aki and Hiro would be accustomed to each other's style and unlike Clones wouldn't dissipate or need a constant source of direction. But…

"If ya ain't Clones," Oki began, "what happens if one of ya die?"

"They die," Hiro shrugged, now moving onto the other leg, "as long as one of us exists, and we are in a Tatemae state with time and work, our body can produce another."

That only raised more questions, though these were more of the less practical-thinking kind. If Aki and Hiro were individuals, what did their worth amount to if they were simply capable of creating another? Would it _mean_ anything to Aki if Hiro was destroyed? Did it imply that somewhere in the Shimabukuro Compound there was a mass grave of these 'not-clones' or were they simply left forgotten? How were they counted as people; as Akihiro, as individuals or both?

Instead she asked, "Tatemae state?"

"Ah," Aki nodded, "when we are called Akihiro, though I apologise for our previous behaviour, it is difficult to…think straight when you have two minds compacted into one body."

"So why don't ya stay like that all the time?" Oki frowned.

"Because there is no opportunity to progress in the Honne state," Aki sniffed.

Hiro sighed and expanded, "Our Chakra Supplies don't grow in this state, meaning-"

"Yeah but ya could walk around like it," Oki interrupted, "We weren't doing Chakra Exercises yesterday, anyways."

They didn't answer, instead glancing at each other with an expression that was unreadable to Oki. Although both had professed to be individual in their own rights they seemed to put enormous effort into mirroring the other. Did it have a practical purpose or an emotional one? They hadn't even given themselves separate names, just snatches of their Tamate state's one. It said too much to Oki than she cared to know. She could only imagine how frustrating it would be for them both to be crushed and jumbled up in their Akihiro form, but perhaps that's all they knew. Like pushing forwards was all Oki had done until she wasn't entirely sure she could stop and catch her breath even if she wanted to.

"Chukichi has finished preparing," Hiro announced with an almost invisible sigh of relief, "Shall we?"

"Hold on, I haven't stretched yet," Aki protested.

Hiro instead chose to make a failed attempt at appearing casual while making a point of _not_ hanging over Aki's shoulder. He lingered over Oki's shoulder instead, glancing back at Aki every few seconds.

Oki raised a brow, impatience clear.

"He's very slow," Hiro offered with a slightly queasy smile.

Eventually, after Aki had limbered up (and Oki was still attempting to stop the urge to blink every time she thought she was seeing double) Chukichi lumbered back over to them. He didn't even shift in surprise at the appearance of two Akihiros, only dissimilar by which side of their head their hair was longer on, and crossed his arms over his chest. A defensive posture, Oki noticed, perhaps they intimidated the larger boy or perhaps strangers as a whole were unwelcome?

"No weapons first spar," Chukichi began without preamble, "First to surrender, no severe force."

"Understood," Aki and Hiro replied in unison with a brisk nod.

Oki merely shifted her weight on her back leg, already weighing up the way Chukichi moved and who his eyes lingered on. The Shimabukuros (or was it _Shimabukuro_, since they were technically the same person) were the obvious threat despite Oki's superior height. Clan Kids were always the obvious threat. She felt a small thrill wire through her veins at the opportunity to prove Chukichi wrong.

"Alright," Chukichi breathed, "Sta-"

The words had barely left his mouth before Oki was hurling herself into movement. Chukichi had a great deal more bulk than her; trying to force him to move through pure strength was not a smart tactic. Instead she'd have to get him moving by_ himself_.

Her foot whipped out jabbing once, sharp with pin-point accuracy, into the small of Chukichi's back. His reaction was instinctive, whirling towards her in an attempt to take advantage of her rectifying stance with raised knees. Oki immediately Body Flickered back three paces, her breath easy and clean for what felt like the first time in months. The irony was not lost on her. Here, in combat, she felt _right_ and yet it was exactly this that had become the source of this sensation of disquiet in her very soul-like little ants crawling over her skin, in her mouth, inside the _fabric _of her-when the fight inevitably ended.

She watched to see if he'd follow, hoping to take advantage of his charge, but Chukichi barely managed blink before the two Shimabukuros were upon him. One, Aki by the way his hair parted, slipped under the narrow gap his raised leg opened in a tuft of golden sand, while Hiro launched himself upwards. Aki remained there, flat on his back, taking Chukichi's foot to the gut with a pained wheeze but clamping it there nonetheless. His sacrifice was not fruitless as Hiro, already suspended, twisted his body and delivered a vicious jumping kick at the side of Chukichi's head. The giant was falling, propelled by the combined force of Hiro's kick and Aki shoving the foot stamped onto his waist upwards.

Moments from clattering to the floor, Chukichi managed to right himself by springing on his hand and skidding up along the sand, twin trails marking the golden grains as he went. That's where Oki was waiting for him. With all of Chukichi's weight leaning forward in an attempt to balance; all it took was her ramming into his back, gripping the material of his flak jacket at the shoulders and then flipping over said shoulders to drag Chukichi face-first to the ground.

"Oh my!" Aki or Hiro (it didn't really matter which) exclaimed with a burst of laughter.

Oki breathed hard through a shark-toothed grin. She felt like she fit her bones again. Thoughts of Nao, Zabuza, Kenki, her Father, all those faces were eradicated. The fear and uncertainty of what her future would be in the Kirigakure Forces and what exactly it (and herself) were twisting her into were bleached away. There was only room for impulse, for precision and perfection and action and reaction and the blissful ache of simplicity in them.

She could be the winner here without having to think about what that word even meant or cost.

She threw the grin over her shoulder as she felt an audience at her back and revelled in the impressed stares of Aki and Hiro, the small wide-eyed looks of the other Genin who had lingered over at the fringes to spectate. There was no uncertainty in this Oki Tachibana. There was only the desire to triumph and the drive to do so with the consequences momentarily suspended.

"….Attention."

"Huh?" Oki glanced down at Chukichi, tearing her eyes away from the awe of the other Genin.

"Not paying attention," Chukichi reiterated that statement by swiping her legs out from under her with a ham-sized forearm that she hadn't even noticed creeping towards her.

She coughed in the dusty cloud of sand, her flak jacket fortunately absorbing most of the impact but her legs failing like an insects anyway. She rolled, narrowly missing the sandaled heel that would have been at her throat had she delayed. On her front, Oki's hands instantly flew towards the pocket she would have kept her Flash Tags in. Had she been _wearing_ her jacket.

_Shit._

Instead she had to make due by rolling forward, missing a punch this time (sloppy enough to suggest that Chukichi usually fought on the defensive) and filled her hands with sand instead.

"Raging Waves Jutsu!"

Chukichi and Oki's eyes widened at the same moment. The goal was to take down Chukichi but there was no way of predicting the Shimabukuros' aim….or sense of loyalty. Chukichi moved before the jet of water had even left the Shimabukuros' mouths, the two ribbon-like streams colliding then galloping towards them. The water moving rang like static in Oki's ears and a few stray droplets stung against her cheeks as she skidded backwards. Chukichi had-unbelievably-ducked directly _under_ the barrage and was trying to sweep himself onto the other side when Oki's hand clasped over his face and forced the sand into his open eyes.

Chukichi cursed.

The larger boy stumbled back a step and Oki instantly began closing in, shifting her stance from the previous one to attack his left side while he was too blinded to see the movement and could only predict a frontal assault from her prior position. Pulling her leg up, Oki's eyes widened when it met his forearm.

But.

How…could he tell where she was?

The raging of the Shimabukuros' Jutsu nullified any other sound, and she'd been nowhere near heavy-footed enough for him to sense the vibrations in the now slightly damp ground. She couldn't logically believe that his sense of smell was accurate enough to exactly locate her, without seeing some sign of it being that advanced beforehand anyway, and clearly he couldn't see. So…how?

She didn't have long to think about it-or do much really-as Chukichi had curled his massive forearm around Oki's leg and using his greater weight to provide momentum, _catapulted _her into the path of the Raging Waves Jutsu.

The scream was drowned in a barrage of stinging water. It hit her with the force of a hammer, driving everything away but the panic of suffocation. She thudded into the sand, damp and sucking her in, her limbs aching and her burning lungs struggling to swallow as much oxygen as humanly possible. Dizzy, Oki pulled herself to her feet and swayed a moment.

The Shimabukuros had already cut off their attack, but edged around Chukichi to flock towards her instead. It was understandable when neither of them had a clue as to how the boy was still capable of fighting them blind.

"Sensor," Aki murmured as he drew up to Oki's elbow.

"What?" she replied, never taking her eyes of Chukichi.

He left his back unguarded far too often (likely because he was accustomed to being at the very rear of every attack) but that information was useless. If he could tell where she was when he had a handful of sand stuffed in his eyes, he'd likely be able to do the same if she tried jumping on his back.

But then again, he hadn't before when Oki had bought him down. So…did that mean Chukichi was capable of 'seeing' them better when he_ couldn't_ see?

Seriously, was Team Narumi just Team Oxymoron or something? Clones that were individuals. Kids who could see better blind. If Captain Narumi turned out to be a baby trapped in an old lady's body or something, Oki was relocating.

"Yeah, got to be," Hiro sighed, "Do you remember class, Aki, I think I misplaced my notes."

"What's a sensor?" Oki cut in.

Both Aki and Hiro blinked.

"They don't teach-" Aki began.

"-Group C much, do they?" Hiro finished.

Oki blandly moved her gaze down to highlight that Aki was almost bent over nursing his injured stomach.

"Point-" Hiro began glumly.

"-Taken," Aki finished with a wince.

"I got the jist of it," Oki frowned, "It ain't hard when ya use the word 'Sensor', he can see our Chakra right?"

She didn't wait for confirmation before asking, "How do we get round it?"

"Well…" the Shimabukuros' glanced at one another, before Aki continued, "We could try suppressing our Chakra but I doubt we have the control required for that…"

"So?" Oki encouraged with clear impatience.

Neither replied.

Oki sighed; she shifted her weight before nodding, "Alright, go for a frontal assault."

Hiro frowned, "What will-"

"He won't be expecting it, an' with 'nough force we can bring chubs down. You two take an arm each, I'll go for the middle. I got 'nough chakra for a clone, clone takes the hit while I go for his face; ya two make sure he ain't gonna squish my head or something, alright?"

"Wait a second," if Aki had feathers, they would be ruffled, "Who said we have to-"

"You in position?" Oki glanced at them.

And despite themselves or perhaps it was an instinctive twitch to the confidence she was displaying, both twins flanked Oki Tachibana. She powered through the Seals for Water Clone, and found herself disconcertingly near empty afterwards what with having to supply the water for the Technique and all the Body Flickers earlier.

The Shimabukuros shot forwards while Chukichi instantly whirling round to face them. Oki and her Clone followed, Oki threaded her fingers together and holding the fist they made back and twisted to her side as she ran. Aki launched himself at Chukichi's left side, Hiro meanwhile had to duck under a punch and wrap himself bodily around Chukichi's right arm to secure the other.

Chukichi stumbled a step backwards.

Oki's Water Clone, head down and yelling, barrelled into Chuckichi's front in an explosion of warm water.

Chuciki shifted back another step.

Oki pivoted then swung, her hands fisted together as they swung up and under Chukichi's jaw. His head snapped back, the clack of his teeth snapping together audible despite the sounds of feet shuffling in sand.

Chukichi fell.

The Shimabukuros landed on top of him with a dry huff while Oki breathed hard and loomed over the trio.

She was grinning.

…..

"I don't understand why I'm so sore," Akihiro pouted, massaging his jaw with one hand.

Oki smirked. Sitting hunched over, savouring the sweat warming to sickly levels on her back and an accomplished ache that strung throughout her body. The sky in the Land of Wind was unbelievable at sunset, colours so vibrant that it almost hurt to look bled into one another and stretched on and on into forever. It was disconcerting how long, you could stare at it without noticing the time passing. Without noticing_ anything _else at all.

Chukichi didn't reply and Oki didn't have the interest to try.

It was instead their teacher who turned to the boy with a grandmotherly smile, "It's alright, Akihiro, don't worry about it."

The old woman was finishing up running a palm over Chukichi's podgy calves, her expression warm and serene in the soft glow of her green chakra. It further highlighted wrinkles, made her eyes recede further into her withered skull until Oki was hit by the urge to dig them out.

She didn't know her team well. She knew more than she had yesterday but that wasn't exactly saying much. More importantly she didn't have an interest in knowing her team_ well_. Just enough to survive.

Unfortunately the sentiment didn't seem to be mutual.

Although in his Tamae form, Akihiro had already begun allowing his vacant scrutiny to wander over in Oki's direction. It was only interest at least, maybe residue direction leaking out from the tangle of Aki and Hiro inside the boy's head, but Oki's stomach turned at the lingering thought of 'for now'. She both wanted to earn and avoid Shimabukuro's admiration with equal ferocity, knowing what happened last time, knowing how trapped she became under the pressure and the distance her image had created, warred with that unshakable urge to be recognised and noticed.

Chukichi's gaze was far less amiable.

Especially-she'd noticed-whenever Oki was forced to interact with their teacher.

"Are you quite sure you're alright with the food, Oki?" Captain Narumi jolted her from her thoughts.

Oki glared at the flat, doughy substance in her hands.

"It tastes like crap," she answered, "but ya ain't got anything else, so I gotta be alright with it."

Chukichi's own glare intensified.

The old woman smiled, wrinkled lips peeling back to display those few and unstable teeth, "good."

She didn't see how it was. If these richly spiced, dry foods were her only source of nutriments, Oki suspected she'd die on the toilet long before an enemy kunai got her. She also suspected the former would the more painful demise.

Regardless Captain Narumi had made it a point that they sit down for the evening meal together…as a Team. They weren't one. Nothing had been said but the sense that both Oki and Akihiro were on some other side to the other two was almost palatable. Frankly, Oki had barely interacted with Captain Narumi and she was already growing frustrated with the old woman's 'good-natured interfering'.

"Sneaky commands more like," Oki muttered to herself.

In fairness, she had come to see their later spars and after witnessing some of many, had decided to give her Genin their appropriate tools. Oki nursed the katana and accompanying Tanto strapped to the small of her back for several hours, sharpening the blade and cleaning them both meticulously. Watching the others in the halls of the Bunker, Oki could not help feeling simultaneously older and younger than the others here. They had more experience and more skills (excluding the other Genin) than her, but everyone she had met so far treated their situation with a causal attitude that Oki chalked up to naivety.

She wanted to drag herself up in the world. She wanted to survive.

She didn't want to start cooing over her Teacher, and acting like one big happy family.

She didn't feel like those were options left open to anyone in that tiny valley and ignoring the reality of their situation only made Oki resentful.

It had only been a day but already her intensity and serious attitude was causing issues with the others. Akihiro, predictably, remained oblivious. The other Genin, not so, considering conversation with Oki Tachibana felt somewhat like sky-diving; scared shitless but irrevocably plunging on anyway. Chukichi appeared to be harbouring a particular disdain for the blue haired ten year old.

"So," Captain Narumi clapped her bony hands and slowly eased herself onto her knees, "Is that everyone?"

"My jaw still hurts," Akihiro's voice was a single tone below being whiny.

The old woman's laugh was like logs cracking in a fire, "I'm sorry, sweetheart but there's not much I can do when you've convinced yourself it hurts."

"Huh?" Akihiro blinked at her, "….Man, it's hot. Is there anything to eat?"

"You've eaten it," Oki bluntly reprimanded when the boy's fingers began edging towards her own meal.

"Oh," Akihiro sighed and, crestfallen, preoccupied himself with staring into the long shadows of the valley.

The silence after that kept growing, uncomfortable at first but becoming more so the more you tried to ignore how uncomfortable it was. Akihiro made shapes in the sand with his palms, Oki inspected her Tanto for the umpteenth time and Chukichi remained silent and immoveable at his Teacher's side.

"What's our mission then?" Oki finally voiced.

"Mission, dear?" Narumi echoed.

Oki frowned at the word dear but didn't call the old woman out on it, "Yeah, ya seen what we-"

"_You've_ seen," Narumi corrected with a good-natured tsk.

Oki glared, "-can do, what mission we get now then?"

"What mission _do_ we get," Narumi corrected again, "And don't worry about it, dear."

"What do ya mean? Don't worry 'bout it, the hell we out here for if not that?"

"What do _you_-"

"I get it," Oki snapped, "I'm askin' ya a question, as my teacher ya should answer it."

Chukichi moved to stand but not before Captain Narumi's hand snaked out and grabbed him. Oki wished she hadn't. The adrenaline from their earlier spars had worn off, and that oily digging feeling was sinking back in.

"Please sit, Chukichi," Narumi smiled instead at Oki, "Listen, dear, I understand-"

Oki felt something in her snap then click.

"Stop callin' me that!"

Captain Narumi did not react. Chukichi tightened his fists. Akihiro stopped doodling in the sand.

"I ain't a kid!" Oki yelled, "I lost the right to be a kid the second I went in Academy! None of us are kids anymore, alright? We're Shinobi! So stop acting like the rules here are the same ones back home!"

It was insubordination. Oki knew that and yet the words had come lashing out. She didn't know these people, and bluntly didn't care, so why was she getting do wound up? She needed to breathe, calm down before she did something she regretted. But…she'd given up too much to be held back. By the attitudes of these three, or their abilities or whatever vague ideas of what these Team _would be_ that they'd conjured in their heads.

Why weren't they taking this seriously? Didn't they understand how much they'd lost to be here?

Frustration boiled in her stomach like bile.

She didn't drag herself here for 'don't worry about its' and grandmotherly smiles.

Oki turned on her heel and stalked back into the Bunker.

**A/N:**

**So, Oki's a bit confrontational this chapter :T But on a good note it felt so good to write a fight scene again! Sorry about quality in this chap, I really wanted to get it out for the weekend so I haven't double-read it...**

**Reviewer Replies:**

**MaHal1337: Thank you for the review :D In terms of Oki's skills, she's got a small Chakra Supply so she won't be throwing around any big ass Jutsus anytime soon BUT she is by no means helpless, like you mentioned there's Shock Tags, Explosive Tags, Water Clone, Henge and seen here is the Body Flicker. Although that doesn't look like much she's also got Chunin level Kenjutsu skills since that was something they focused on in the Academy. Besides that there's also basic understanding of Genjutsu, but Oki did only spend a year at the Academy and a lot of that was Shinobi Code & Conduct. **

**TurtleBiscuit: As always, thanks for the review! You were almost there with Akihiro, though it is correct to say we don't know exactly how the more intelligent Aki & Hiro behave, but unfortunately no HULK SMASH-ing/Hyde-erm-ing (?) which is a cool idea and I kinda wish I'd gone with it now . Instead I'd say the Shimabukuro Kekkai Genkai is kinda like a Russian Nesting Doll or the maybe a buffed up Shadow Clone. Thanks for the reassurance about the OCs too!**

**Completely Confunded: Thanks for the review! Yeah, I never thought about it like that but's it's sad thinking that Nao still saw Oki as her 'prince' in shining armour right up to her death; a lot of Oki's classmates from Group C are in the other camp so there isn't much chance of a reunion there with them basically being meat shields.**

**SadisticAvocado: Arcs are CONFIRMED! Yep, Oki's gonna be working harder in the Land of Wind and finally get some real missions…if Chukichi or Hammock don't kill her in her sleep anyway. Tachibana and Zabuza reunion, unfortunately, won't be for awhile though, sorry :[ Though a certain Suna Nin may cause trouble….;) Oh, and thanks for the review!**

**CreepyNick1: Thank you for reviewing and will do :D**

**Ceradin: Thanks for the review! Zabuza still has to go a year through Academy, so he won't be meeting up again with Oki soon but there WILL be a reunion at some point, thanks so much for saying Oki's IC :D I'm struggling atm to make sure Oki develops without just completely turning her into someone else so your reassurance was really appreciated :]**

**THANK YOU to everyone whose read, favourited and followed this fic! I really appreciate it :D**


	16. 16: Gone fishing

Gone fishing.

In total there were eleven Shinobi based in the Kirigakure Bunker. This number consisted of two teams of Genin and their Jounin mentors, and three Chunin and their now deceased former Captain. Captain Narumi was dawdling somewhere between seventy and eighty, with Medical Ninjutsu skills that far surpassed the standard level expected from other Kiri Nin. Captain Mayako Yuki had a bounty of experience in combat and specialised in securing defensive perimeters, an achievement greatly aided by her Ice Release Kekkai Genkai. Shu (a Chunin with softly curled blonde hair and the inoffensive looks of a lead singer in a boy band) had devoted his time towards the creation and prevention of poisons. Shigemi (dark bobbed hair and stern eyes behind stylish thick-rimmed glasses) had an almost innate talent for decoding and constructing hidden messages. Yasumi was an Ox of a man, bearded and heavy-handed, with a reputation for butchery with the enormous nodachi nestled between his gigantic shoulder-blades. All were trained in varying degrees of Medical Jutsu, Captain Narumi, Shu and Shigemi ranking near the top while Yasumi hobbled back at the rear. All of them were deadly in their own rights (though Captain Yuki inspired far more nightmares among the Genin than the others).

These were Oki Tachibana's superiors.

At first she knew them as a list of names and skills, like looking at face and only _seeing _binary codes. It wasn't much of an improvement on her familiarity with her Teammates. Over that first month in the Land of Wind, Team Narumi's missions were kept light; the correct filing and organisation of data, holding down unruly patients and loitering on stand-by with scalpels and ointments while Captain Narumi or Shu autopsied a Shinobi with irregular boils. Her training was shared between the two Jounin, and as the weeks wore on Captain Yuki took a much more active role.

Beforehand there had been inklings that the five Genin had been separated from the others for a more discerning quality than Academy Rankings. Chakra Control was easily singled out as the most likely answer when Captain Narumi took Akihiko, Hozumi and Shunpei under her wrinkly, old wings. All three would trail her like shadows while she made her rounds, and Chukichi, Oki and Haruka sparred against Captain Yuki and Yasumi in the blistering heat and sand above ground.

It was tenterhooks; the interaction between the Genin. Haruka, the only other female Genin, was as likely to laugh as fly into a rage. Hozumi still found himself watery-eyed and long-suffering. Shunpei's dry attempts at raising the levity of the atmosphere missed far more often than they hit. Akihiro remained, predictably, oblivious which grated on the others at times. And Chukichi was trapped in limbo, caught in some social no-man's land between the Genin and Captain Narumi.

But all of them looked at Oki with that special kind of wariness, as if she's a recently domesticated wolf.

Oki Tachibana did nothing to either encourage or discourage this attitude. Without Zabuza, and the demands of finding something to eat on the blue wash of Kirigakure streets, Oki had only just realised how much time she invested into achieving perfection. And how little she felt the urge to interact when she wasn't being forced into it.

She trained, took missions, trained, ate, read what little scrolls that were allowed to the Genin, trained and slept. Perhaps it was her diligence, effortlessly dancing a thin line with obsession, that made her that much more unapproachable. She never said the others couldn't approach her…but she'd never welcomed their advances either.

"There's….erm," Akihiro pouted, staring at the two kunai pouches in his pale hands as if they were the ones awaiting his answer, before smiling sheepishly, "…I forgot again. Sorry, I'll recount."

"Me," Chukichi sighed, liberating the pouches while Akihiro blinked at him in confusion.

"Why would I…?Oh! There's one Chukichi! Ha, that one was easy!" Akihiro's satisfied expression is misplaced but neither of his teammates call him out on it.

"Thirty-six katanas, twenty o' that number in need of repairs while the remaining sixteen are serviceable," Oki frowned, "them sixteen are in four bundles, wrapped an' ready."

There was a semi-circle of neatly stacked piles surrounding the three Genin, who reached and reorganised at the centre as if they were three spiders reshuffling their web. Akihiro's 'help' is more of a hindrance, but it is better him being here so the information sinks in when the boy becomes Aki and Hiro again. They'd have to make the trek to one of the outer camps come nightfall, and all of them wanted to be sure that the weaponry was delivered exactly as it was requested.

"Twelve kunai, each pouch, fifty-two pouches," Chukichi's voice was deep and soft and even, metronome tones in the dry earth and strangled tangy breeze of the Bunker.

"You guys," Akihiro scratched at the sheared half of his head with a frown, "Erm, how many did we need again?"

Chukichi answered him when Oki couldn't summon the patience to do so. Quiet reined the small corner of the main living area the Kiri Nin's rooms ring. The hot plate sizzled at irregular intervals like a petulant child demanding attention, and the air here-as always-smelled of something dry and spiced remaining Oki of old parchment and bleached bones and lithe animals with tanned hides and dark, little eyes. It's almost lethargic, the robotic movements of sorting. The lifestyle she currently adopts is so chaotic that Oki finds some measure of comfort in this order at least. It had to be close to three in the morning, and somewhere between the middle and end of her third week here. Time passed in blurs of jerky movement.

"Have….spoken….Captain?" Chukichi's question was too soft.

"Huh?" Oki shuffled to face him, frowning while leaning back on her haunches.

"Have you spoken to Captain Narumi?" Chukichi repeated a glance at her face that was cautious and impassive at once.

"Nope," Oki shrugged, "Why would I?"

"_Because,"_ Chukichi's fingers were tense around another Kunai pouch, "she wanted to speak with you."

Oki paused and simply looked up at him. Chukichi refused to meet her eyes. Akihiro's head had been swivelling backwards and forwards from one to the other throughout the conversation.

Oki smirked, "Never anything important, all the old woman ever wants to talk to me about is stupid life lessons an' _that's she's there if I need her_."

"_Could_ be something important," Chukichi's jaws working.

"Ya said that before," Oki ragged a hand through her hair.

This is distracting and she doesn't like it since they should be keeping on task. But Chukichi and their Captain seemed to have somehow got it into their heads that both Akihiro and Oki were lost children desperately seeking guidance. The only time Oki had ever 'sought guidance' from Captain Narumi was for the sleeping pills, and they had only been relinquished after Oki had created a concise list as to why she needed them. Drop in performance had been her selling point; nightmares about a soft-faced girl twisted and fused together from ash had not.

"It's never _important_," Oki continued, "If it were, she'd come find me. No, she just wants some granny time and I ain't playing. I ain't gonna hop around for her attention like some little lapdog. Ya got that covered, anyways."

"I'm not her lapdog," Chukichi's tone is steel, "I respect her."

Oki smirked and lifted a brow, "Ya practically roll over on your stomach-"

"How many did we need again?" Akihiro interjected, "I can't remember, and I've been sorting for _ages_."

Whether his interruption was an intended stopper for the oncoming argument or not, it's impossible to tell. Akihiro retains that same bovine absent-minded attitude while chewing on the skin of his thumb.

"Should be enough," Chukichi spoke shortly, gathered their pile and left.

Akihiro watched him go. Oki began tending to the mess. The wind stirred the sand lingering in the cracks of the floor.

"Are you two alright?"

Oki glanced up to find Akihiro watching her with a clarity that he only possessed when in his Honne form. It's disconcerting, seeing Aki and Hiro peering momentarily out of the eyes of their cage dependent on but helpless to their Kekkai Genkai.

"Who?" Oki replied.

The brief glimpse of intelligence was gone as Akihiro slumped back and scratched his head, "Erm…I can't remember. What was the question again? Hey where's the fat one?"

"I dunno," Oki replied because it was easier than trying to explain it to a boy with a constantly derailing train of thought, "why don't ya look for him?"

"Yeah," Akihiro nodded slowly, "Yeah…one second, who am I looking for again?"

"Chukichi."

"Yeah, I'll go now," he hopped to his feet and beamed, "See you later, Oki!"

Oki nodded and readdressed her attention towards the discarded supplies. They'd need packing, and someone should keep on top of maintenance. She could handle it when she wasn't training or darting across the shifting sands towards the other camp or pushing her weight on some screaming Shinobi to keep him down while Captain Narumi operated; but her free hours were few and erratic, and she hadn't the time or opportunity to keep to a routine. It was better than thinking. Procrastinating. She needed to keep to her plan, if she performed well enough she could be recommended for the Chunin Exam and then they would….would what? Another setting, new missions and another blur of seemingly unimportant faces then…Jounin, what then? It had all seemed so simple when she'd talked with Zabuza about it, painting their destinies out in the Autumn night sky with the cold metal of the warehouse's roof at her back. She still had her drive but for a moment she hesitated, because she simply had no definite answer as to _where_ it was driving her.

Did it really matter?

A long, low whistle interrupted Oki's thoughts.

Her head snapped up to find Shu, tousled blonde hair and movie-star smile, leaning towards her.

"That was brutal," he smiled, amused but with comradery, a joke between old friends.

"What was?" Oki shifted her eyes towards the katanas again, testing their edge against a calloused finger.

"You and Chukichi," Shu slumped next to her (disturbing a pile and shifting while Oki remade it with a frown), "You don't need to be so hard on him, y'know? He_ is_ trying."

Oki glanced up, to Shu then speculatively towards the hallway Chukichi had disappeared down. Brutal wasn't the word Oki would use, even her pettiest fights with Zabuza had had more energy than that. Confrontations between her and Chukichi were more like a long drawn-out sigh, heavy with mutual disappointment and tired of trying.

"He shouldn't keep bringing it up then," Oki shrugged unashamedly, "I ain't the one baiting, but if he's gonna go fishing, I'm gonna bite."

Shu raised one golden eyebrow (how does he keep them perfectly trimmed?), "Fish metaphors? Wow, you are missing the Kirigakure cuisine."

He sighed and rifled idly through the efficient little piles between them, "Never been a fan of fish guts and watery soup myself."

"Never asked if ya were," Oki meticulously strung the Kunai pouches together before moving onto the katanas.

Shu didn't answer, and if it weren't for the situational awareness Mr Anzai had tried to drill into his students' heads, Oki would have thought the twenty-something year old had left. He was smiling, when Oki finally did regard him again, a hand folded behind his head and an elbow resting against the crown of his nest of curls.

"You're making it harder for yourself."

"Huh?" Oki frowned.

"Here. You're making it much harder for yourself,_ here_," she opened her mouth but Shu powered on before she could get even a single syllable out, "Look, I know you were some big shot in the Academy."

He chuckled when Oki sent him a suspicious unmoving look, leaning back on her shins, all intense dark eyes and sharp features.

"I've heard that Haruka girl grumbling about it," Shu's smile remained beatific, "you had quite the fan club_ Mr _Tachibana, I know at least Haruka and Hozumi's eyes almost popped out their little heads when Captain Yuki gave you all the strip wash."

Oki ragged a hand through her hair, clearly exasperated with barrage of trivial information, "Ya going somewhere with this?"

"All I'm saying is that people aren't going to flock to you here," Shu stood again, softening his posture so he wasn't exactly looming over the ten year old, "Not like at the Academy. Everyone's too busy keeping alive to _find_ Heroes when other ones are being shoved in their faces_ for_ them. So you'll have to put some effort into it."

"Why-"

"Why bother?" Shu cocked his head, still smiling, still amiable, "Because you're skilled, and here that'll get you to two places. One," he counted it off on a finger, "You become some snobby little asshole that everyone laughs at behind your back…._or_ two," another slim finger, "you become everyone's favourite person."

"And those are two very different people on the battlefield," something in Shu's eyes hardened into a sudden seriousness that set Oki's stomach, "Skill, Oki Tachibana, and hard work is only ever going to get you so far. You need to know people. You need to move people enough that they watch your back because they_ want _you coming out of the fight alive, not because its slightly easier for them that they do; the first motivation isn't invincible but when it gets hard-and I mean_really_ hard out there-the latter is far more easily forgotten."

Oki didn't answer, _couldn't_. There was something there in Shu's gaze that sewed her lips and plugged her heart in her chest, the ghost of memories the young man had experienced peeking out from hazy red-stained fields and worming through entrails. It was so easy to forget that the people here had experienced far horrifying things more than their juniors. They'd been here so long, since the war began in earnest by most accounts, that they'd forgotten how humid the mist of Kirigakure felt on skin (sticky wisps like cotton candy) but could recall with clarity how blood clotted the sand into tight, crimson balls.

"Meh," Shu smiled again and it was as if the tension had never existed, swept up and bundled away behind Shu's pretty, golden face, "just a bit of advice, Oki, yeah?"

He ruffled a hand through her hair; she frowned and dodged before smoothing it back again.

"You should probably grow that out," Shu hummed, "You look like a little mobster."

Oki grunted in laughter and smirked (Shu's switch back to 'normal' behaviour relieved her more than it had any right to), "maybe that's the look I'm goin' for."

"Oh?" Shu raised a brow, "well maybe we should get you some tattoos."

"OKI! OKI!"

Both Shu and Oki tensed, that is until Akihiro stumbled into the room all clumsiness and excited panic.

"Haruka just broke another naginata and Captain Yuki said…." He froze and then very slowly pouted, "I've forgotten what she said….But! She definitely said to find you…or was that find Shunpei? Erm…Haruka maybe? No Haruka was the one who was in trouble….I _think_?"

Oki sighed.

"Come on," she stood and marched towards Akihiro, all candid demeanour and assessing frown, "Let's go before Captain Yuki freezes both our asses and hands us rusty kuani to cut loose with."

"Oki."

Almost at the threshold but briskly halting her escape, Oki turned at Shu's unhurried address. The young man smiled again, one hand in his pocket and the other bumping casually against his slim hips.

"Think about what I said. I'm not like Captain Narumi, I'm not telling you this because I want to feel like a better person," his eyes crinkled with his next smile, "I just don't want to _have_ to deal with the annoying awkwardness, alright?"

She didn't know how to answer him.

So she didn't.

"Shimabukuro, where's Captain Yuki?" Oki turned her back to Shu once again, focusing on where Akihiro is lazily blinking between the pair, frowning lightly as he tries to shift through the current syrup of his thoughts for the correct social cue. It took him awhile to realise he was being spoken to.

"Huh?...Oh! Oh, right, she's right this way….I think. _Maybe_?"

…

It's another week before Oki sees any action that doesn't involve fending off Haruka Abe's naginata while simultaneously preventing Chukichi from flanking her. But even then it's not much. Not enough.

Two Genin, ragged and nothing more than little straw dolls in their tattered Sunagakure uniforms, stumbled two close to where Team Narumi made their drop-off with the alternating collection group at the designated location. It wasn't the fight that concerned her. She'd Body Flickered, had her Tanto in the back of one's throat before the other had even managed to trip over his own feet enough to turn. The warm spray of blood over her face, eyes wide open behind the tinted glass of her goggles, had her heart jacking as she slashed; leaning down after swaying round the Suna Nin's gurgling teammate then arching upwards swiftly, her katana's grip tight in her sweating hands and up, up, up in a diagonal ribbon of crimson. When the body hit the sand with a muted 'thump' her heart-rate finally began to slow.

Neither of the Genin had expected it. With Chukichi's Sensor skills Team Narumi would have had a lock on them both, long before they'd stopped stumbling about and gained enough presence of mind to check they're surroundings.

Oki flicked her blade clean and slid it home, staring down at the two bodies. Shouldn't it be easier by now? This was her tally: her father, Nao, the other boy and now these two. That was five bodies Oki Tachibana had made. Five little numbers that sat in her throat like five little stones.

"It's alright, sweetheart," a wrinkled hand on her shoulder, "You've done your part."

Oki wanted to ask her Teacher what exactly 'her part' was, but decided against it. It'd only lead to more of those existential questions that Captain Narumi deluded herself into thinking Oki welcomed. For all her question asking, Oki found her Teacher was quite unwilling to listen to any answers that disagreed with her own. Captain Narumi could justify anything with the term 'for the greater good' and hurried excuses of kindness. Oki hated her for that. She didn't think she'd ever had the kindness to justify anything she'd done.

Captain Narumi bent down on aching joints to inspect the bodies.

They were young. A year older, maybe, than Akihiro and herself. Oki fought the wince and almost won. Almost.

Narumi's bent fingers eased over the metal surface of their Sunagakure Forehead Protectors, pinched finger pads tracing the hourglass indents, "so young, to be so far out on their own."

"Two," Chukichi jogged to meet them, Oki hadn't realised how far back both he and Akihiro were until they were sliding down the sand dune.

"Where's their team?" Oki finished the thought, "They weren't skilled 'nough-"

"Enough, dear," Narumi corrected while Oki momentarily bristled.

"-to be out on their own, didn't even see me comin' so they ain't-"

"Aren't."

"-_ain't_ undercover," Oki sniffed leaning closer and trying to keep the shake out of her hands, "Do ya reckon they know 'bout the Bunker?"

"I don't think so," Aki and Hiro had split into existence when Chukichi signalled for hostiles.

Aki cocked a hip, his expression pensive, while Hiro gingerly picked at the utility belt strapped to one of the boy's-_corpse's_, Oki mentally corrected, waist.

"Why show that they're aware of our location before taking advantage of that information," Aki continued, frowning with thought, "No, they'd definitely attack first or at least issue some threat that causes us to panic enough that we slip up."

"These two are hardly a threat," Hiro sniffed, "Most likely, the entire encounter was coincidental."

Oki almost envied their ease with the bodies, but weeks now of dealing with the after results of combat through Captain Narumi's teachings had likely numbed them to it. They likely envied Oki's ease with killing, but it's the after results that kept _her_ up at night and wrapping herself in self-loathing.

"You shouldn't dismiss anything as coincidental," Captain Harumi hoisted herself up again with a wizened groan then fondly patted Hiro's cheek, "That's how important things are overlooked. Now, if these two are here what does that suggest?"

"That the rest of their team are out there," Oki frowned, "Or they coulda been survivors. Have there been any-"

She paused. All four (when Aki and Hiro were counted as individuals) are watching her closely.

"What?" Oki's tone is bland, her eyes sharp.

"You…alright?" it is Chukichi in a frankly unexpected display of quiet concern.

"You dispatched them both with ease, and pardon me for saying-" Aki began.

"-You don't seem terribly upset about it," Hiro finished.

"Oki," Captain Narumi's smile is old and grandmotherly, "if there's anyone you need to talk to, I'm here for you."

Oki's blood boiled for a moment. At the condescending tones and thinly veiled disapproval and-isn't this what they want her to do? Isn't this how they survive here? So why does it suddenly seem so _wrong _when she does it? Because she does it well like they taught her, or because_they_ aren't the ones killing for once.

She's got enough of her own questions; she doesn't need to shoulder theirs, especially when the answers are always heavier.

"I'm fine," she grinned to cover it, the anger and hesitation and that empty feeling that had been sitting in her gut and gathering storm clouds for the past weeks, months, year since Nishihama, she doesn't know "this is what Shinobi do."

There was more bite to that last sentence. Enough for them to drop it.

"We'll leave the bodies," Captain Narumi glossed over, "they'll only be more suspicious if they're moved."

"And they ain't gonna be suspicious 'bout the hole in that guy's throat?" Oki snorted.

"Have you ever been fishing, Oki?"

Oki tensed. Yes she had. Every morning or every evening with a little body tucked under her chin or the uneasy silence of her father at her back. But she doesn't want Captain Narumi to know that. The woman sniffed out and feasted on personal tragedy like a leech, growing fatter the more her confidants shared with her and the more traumatic those unburdened secrets were.

"Yeah," she shrugged.

"Then you'll understand the concept of bait."

…..

The sky bled. Swathes of crimsons and pinks and golds water falling into one another and dripping their paints onto the unending sea of sand. Oki shifted against the tan rock, keeping her legs from falling asleep where they wedged between two jutting boulders.

"It's been awhile," Aki sighed somewhere above and to the left.

"It has," Hiro's tone was equally unsatisfied, this time further back and to the right.

Captain Narumi and Chukichi had returned to camp, in order to relay what had occurred and swap out for two more combat orienteered colleagues. Oki already knew Captain Yuki would be among them, but the second was a tossup between Yasumi or Haruka Abe. It depended on whether they decided to ere on the side of caution, or whether Captain Yuki was keener on her Genin student acquiring some more personal experience with that wicked-looking naginata of hers. Oki's calloused fingers wedged further into the rock as she stealthy poked an eye out, one hand on the warm grip on her tanto and her legs splayed to keep her suspended.

The bodies hadn't moved.

They'd been out there for hours and not even the emaciated desert animals had bothered to pick at their bones. It made her wary, an almost ridiculous notion flitting in and out her head that every corpse_ she_ created would withstand the passage of time as grim testament to her actions.

It scared her, how _good_ she was at it, probably more than it scared the other Genin.

Shu's speech from weeks ago drifted through Oki's mind. She hadn't had the time to think on it too deeply, busy training, completing small unimportant missions like stock control and then falling into the blessed relief of blank sleep after Captain Narumi had given her those little white pills. If Oki was turning into…whatever it was that she was turning into (Monster? Murder? A _good _Shinobi?) did she really need the others to know? Did she _want_ them to know? She didn't really want them knowing anything about her, it'd be too easy to rely on them for her identity and then far too easy to find herself shaped and subsequently broken by that very same reliance.

"Hey Aki, Hiro," her mouth was working before she even knew it, "do ya think….do ya think I'm scary?"

"_Scary_?" she wasn't sure which one spoke but with those two, it hardly mattered.

"Yeah," Oki whispered, "Like are ya scared of me?"

The silence was telling.

"_Well_…" Hiro's tone was unsure and clearly delaying for time, "I'm not sure 'scary' would be the right word."

"You're…kind of intimidating," Aki supplied, "kind of."

Oki smirked and snorted, "Ain't that the same thing?"

"In a manner-" Aki began.

"-of speaking," Hiro finished.

Oki lapsed into silence, the desert wind howling through the thin holes in the rock face and buffeting specks of sand against her skin. It had never been her intention to intimidate them. She'd just…just what? She'd just found herself struggling to keep her head above water or had she developed a sudden complete apathy for the feelings of those around her? Oki Tachibana had never been the most sympathetic or considerate person in the world, but when had she become such a chore to be around? Her father's death had taught her a valuable lesson; that a person's age, knowledge or ability came second to their willingness, their determination and ambition. It was near thinkable that she would kill him, and then her desperation to see Kenki alive had allowed her to do so. It had been a hard education but her drive to live and flourish had played a large part in pushing her through her Academy years.

So what had Nao's death taught her? And the death of the boys this morning?

Nothing? That she was the killer Teacher had proclaimed her to be all those years ago in the murk of that forgotten cave. That there was not lessons to be learned or experience to be gained in every action; that sometimes slaughter was just simply slaughter? She'd done nothing but brood with the life she had snatched away from Nao, polishing her memories of that Examination Room with a combination of insincere regret and self-loathing. And in the meantime, the regard that she'd so carefully cultivated throughout her Academy years had been wilting.

What a damn waste.

She'd fought so hard for that reputation and her continued survival, and all she was going to do was let it stagnate?

"What bought this on all of a sudden, anyway?" Aki inquired, jolting Oki from her thoughts.

"Nothing," Oki replied, "I just realised that I ain't be the most…talkative person back at the Bunker, y'know? I hadn't noticed."

"Oh," Hiro breathed, "….To be honest, everyone thought you were snubbing us…."

_Everyone_? So Shu's comments had been far more insightful than Oki initially appreciated.

"I weren't," Oki shrugged, "Just…just tryna get my head on straight, I guess. It's really different out here."

Aki sighed, "It is."

"I mean…," Oki frowned, "doesn't that bother ya, both you and Hiro seem to be doin' fine."

"Well," Hiro interjected, "As a Shimabukuro, our…perception of the world is rather skewed. We only see it in bits and pieces since the times where we can think straight are few. It's almost like constantly looking out through a kaleidoscope. We've long been used to the world constantly changing every time we blink."

It would explain a great deal about their behaviour. Oki could only imagine that it was like perpetually snapping in and out of sleep, the only person they could really rely on as a constant was their bedfellow. No wonder Aki and Hiro never ventured more than five steps away from each other.

A shadow slid seamlessly into their little hiding point, and Captain Yuki straightened into her regal bearing before Yasumi could even sneak in beside her.

Caution then, Oki mused, better that way.

"Report?" Captain Yuki shifted so she was peeking out at the two dead boys from behind Oki's shoulder.

"Ain't nothing happened," Oki straightened into military address, "We ain't even seen one of their tracking eagles. I stuck some Exploding tags on the back of one, just for when they show up."

"I see," Captain Mayako Yuki's frown was cutting and momentary, before her face smoothed into her more characteristic polite smile, "well, I suppose we'll just have to wait then, won't we?"

It wasn't a question so none of them answered.

Oki woke hours later, squashed up against the armpit of Yasumi while her legs folded themselves against the rock. It wasn't her turn for watch rotation, she knew because if it were Yasumi would be the one waking her. His beard tickled the skin of her cheek as she carefully righted herself, paying particular attention to the fall of the shadows. It was a few hours off midnight and Captain Yuki had a palm discreetly raised for attention and one eye darting pointedly at the beefy Chunin Oki had been using as a makeshift sleeping bag.

"Yasumi," Oki whispered, lightly tapping at the vein pulsing in his brawny neck, "Yasumi."

His eyes snapped open and his body tensed before she'd even finished saying his name a second time. Yasumi's hazel eyes hit Oki then instantly swept over to Captain Yuki who continued to hold her hand in 'be prepared' position. A longer moment of silence; Aki, Hiro, Oki and Yasumi all keeping as still as the rocks they were perched behind, until Captain Yuki curled a finger for Oki to slip forward. She found it far more difficult to be as stealthy as possible on the grainy rocks of the desert than she ever had at the Academy, but managed it nonetheless to a level that was satisfactory enough (for Captain Yuki anyway, since the dark-haired woman hadn't killed her).

"Tags," Captain Yuki mouthed, motioning slightly towards where three shadows were lumbering near the two corpses, and then she tapped her wrist and held up her fingers in a shifting count. Oki watched as Captain Yuki hit one, then two, then three and then at four, she nodded her head and pointed at her back. Satisfied, their Jounin Commander leaned back and motioned the other two forwards.

Yasumi leaned himself up against Captain Yuki's unguarded left, Aki and Hiro squatted at her right, while Oki was manoeuvring into a crouch before the Ice Release wielding woman. Captain Yuki's fingers made her shiver-so cold they almost burned-as they brushed over Oki's head and pushed her goggles over her eyes.

The intention was clear.

Adrenaline pulled itself awake, licked at its face with drowsy paws before curling cat-like in Oki's veins. The sand was almost silver in the moonlight, the three Suna Nin combing for their companions nothing more than shapes against a pregnant moon and starless sky.

"Jounin," Captain Yuki whispered, "Two fresh Chunin."

Oki didn't know how Captain Yuki knew but she trusted the woman's judgement enough to not question it. Unlike Captain Narumi, Mayako Yuki was sharp and honed and undeniably _dangerous_.

Then Captain Yuki's hands moved from Oki's head and gripped the thighs of Aki and Yasumi, three fingers lifted and ready to tap out the countdown on their skin rather than risk verbally announcing it. The Jounin's dark eyes, elegant and long-lashed and very beautiful in a sad, delicate (and completely misleading, she mentally added) way, locked on Oki before nodding once. Everyone bar Oki squeezed their eyes closed.

One tap.

Oki tensed as the two Chunin knelt over the first body, muttering to each other as their Jounin Commander kept watch.

Two taps.

So there were two Chunin, and by the Captain's direction both were relatively under experienced. She had no hope against the Jounin, she was confident but she wasn't stupid. Captain Yuki would most likely be gunning for the Jounin, Yasumi the tallest and bulkiest of the Chunin. That left the skinny Chunin with the wind-swept ponytail for her and Akihiro (or Aki and Hiro). Shit, she'd never gone against a Chunin in anything serious before. It didn't matter if she_ could _do this, she'd_have_ to do this or-

Three taps.

Oki completed her Rat Seal and the white fire bellowed, plumed then folded in on itself. She felt the burst of heat even from where she crouched, there and gone in a blink, leaving a thin smoking trail behind. Movement had exploded about her.

The three Suna Nin had managed to leap backwards before they were injured, but by doing so had only separated themselves from each other. They stumbled momentarily blinded by the burst of light in the darkness. Yasumi stripped his nodachi from his back with a slick singing of steel, already running low with an animalistic growl rumbling in his huge chest; Captain Yuki was gone and Oki didn't have _time _to wonder where and how. One Chunin (the one with the ponytail) was straggling at the front of the group, choking into his sleeve as the wind pushed the cloying smoke of the explosion in his direction. Oki swerved towards him as the other Chunin pulled a Summoning Scroll from his sleeve. She shoved Aki and Hiro in the same direction as three sand worms (tan, thick plates on their backs, blind eyes and spearheaded tips of fleshy skin at the front) dove towards Yasumi.

Yasumi skidded to a halt, planted his feet and readied his nodachi, the two (three? If you considered Aki and Hiro separately) Genin danced past and right. The first of the worms flung itself on the Yasumi's blade, splitting from head to belly in a shower of entrails, blood and two wet thumps as the halves hit the sand. Yasumi had already thrust a palm into the sand, digging for another worm which he grasped around the throat and crushed its head in one huge paw of a fist.

Oki could barely recognise what was happening about her. A blur of noise and movement that her body played harmoniously to, feelings lost in her instincts as self-perseveration and the human need for victory roared in her head. The pony-tailed Chunin was feeding something into his hands. The soft 'chinking' of chains skittered about the edges of her hearing and she had a split second to dive to the side before the sand exploded in a tuft beside her.

The chink of the chain again as the Suna nin retracted his weapon.

"Shit," Oki breathed, seeing it finally in the moonlight.

A long chain, each link decorated in a tiny cluster of razor-sharp blades like frost between the cracks in brickwork. It was heavy and that gave the Kiri Genin a speed advantage at least, but it also meant the thing was as likely to crush as it was shred her. Long range, which meant if Oki could only burst into the Chunin's bubble of space her katana and the tanto on her back would have the advantage. It was getting that close, that'd prove the problem

The Chunin whistled the chain above his head like a lasso, singing some eerie, high-pitched tone as it sliced through air. Without warning it swept down towards them, clinking and screeching towards her. Oki's eyes widened before she was leaping forward (still pushing to close that distance) and flipping over the lethal arc of the chain. She hit the floor hard, her chin scrapping against the sand as she dug in her toes and pressed herself forwards again. She wouldn't be able to reach him, not like this. The Suna Nin was interrupting every effort she made, especially now he seemed to have found his pace by whirling the chain in huge circles about him and wearing the two Genin down. Each dodge was coming slower than the last, each breathe that much more ragged.

She'd have to throw him off his rhythm.

Oki's hand darted into one of the pouches at her belt, curling around a shock tag even as she rolled under the next swipe of the chain (sand in her mouth, in the grooves of her goggles, abrasive against the skin of her fingers). Popping to her feet, Oki flung the tag and denoted it before the thought of the actions had even fully materialised in her head. It burst in a furious flash of bright, blinding white. Oki watched through the tinted glass of her goggles as the Suna Nin stumbled.

"AHH! MY EYES!"

That was….

Oki whirled. She'd completely forgotten about Aki and Hiro darting about behind her. The two identical boys stumbled back; completely thrown off stride and gritting their teeth as they lifted their arms against a light that had already vanished. But the Suna Nin evidently hadn't forgotten about the Shimabukuros' presence.

"You little shits!" he seethed, cursing and rubbing at his eyes before his hands tightened on the chain again.

His movements were nowhere near as smooth.

With her goggles Oki could easily duck, roll and leap over the heavy, erratic swings of the Suna Nin's chain but Aki was not that fortunate. It caught him on a backlash, the end of the chain spitting up and whipping once over the boy's skinny body; yanking him from his feet, into the air and finally slumping against the rocks behind.

"AKI!" Hiro screamed somewhere.

Oki swallowed down bile, she didn't know the damage hadn't the time to look if she wanted to keep her head, but the sheer amount of panic and_ fear_ in Hiro's voice was enough to unnerve anyone. She was closer, she could see the ripples in the sand that the Suna Nin's frantic movements had disturbed and hear the chain whipping in the air behind her. She didn't want to die. She had to kill him because oh god, _she did not want to die_.

Oki Tachibana was six paces away from the Suna nin when his vision finally cleared. She didn't know how much distance she'd crossed to get there, she didn't know how badly Aki was injured or whether the pin-pricks of pain trembling up and down her back were real or mentally conjured; all she felt was the stone of dread plummet down in her stomach when the Chunin's eyes locked on hers.

His smile was vicious and vengeful.

The Chain whipped towards her with far more control. She didn't have time to move effectively. Oki instinctively unsheathed her katana with fingers near trembling with frenzied energy, and barely got the blade high enough to block before it reached her. It was only then that she remembered why she hadn't been trying to block the chain in the first place.

Oki leaned back as the chain coiled itself around the blade with the most ear-bleeding sound of metal scrapping against metal. She could feel the noise vibrating along her teeth, into her jaw and through the bone of her skull. A sharp tug and Oki was on her knees and struggling to keep upright. She leaned her weight back, dug her heels in, and nearly broke her damn jaw gritting her teeth as she heaved the katana towards her. But the Chunin was stronger.

Oki was jerked forward another step, managing to keep her feet under her by some sheer miracle.

Then another.

At the third, Oki finally questioned why the hell she was straining herself so hard to keep the sword anyway, especially when….when-it clicked She'd been trying desperately to close the distance between her and the Chunin, then here the Chunin was perfectly willing to close it for her. The next tug and Oki moved with it, catapulting herself towards the shocked Chunin and using the room the slack chain gave her to lift her blade. Closer, her feet hit the sand, closer, her blade was swinging down, closer and-

It cut straight through the Chunin's hand in one lurching, merciless swing. The Chunin _screamed _pitching forward and towards her with his other hand outstretched. Oki didn't even think before she was throwing another Shock Tag in his face. She ached and it felt like she was breathing in fire, but she **could **do this. She was not dying now!

The Chunin bent forwards at the blast of almost painful white light, and Oki took the opportunity to fill her fist with the course material at the shoulder of her shirt. She swung herself onto his hunched back, her other hand already feeling for her Tanto. Oki's pulse was a war drum in her head. Not now. Not like this. **I am not dying today**. I. AM. NOT. DYING!

The tanto was warm and at home in her palm, she flipped her grip while her eyes never left the back of the Chunin's head. Oki reared her arm back, the inside of her elbow brushing her nose before-

THUNK

-down it went, a short hard punch of metal breaking through the bone at the back of Chunin's skull. There was a thick, globby mess of matter on the tanto as Oki struggled to pull it free before forcing it home again, the Chunin's body convulsing violently under her. After that she lost count.

She only stopped when he was still.

The body toppled forward as if it had been freed from some puppeteer's spell, sending Oki tumbling into the sand. Her arms hurt. Her body felt strange, small zips of adrenaline fading away and leaving bruises in their wake. The bloody bowl that was the back of the Chunin's head stared up at her, crimson pooling into the sand punctuated by odd little clicks as the chain he had wielded settled itself. Oki stared back for a while (she wasn't sure how long) feeling strange and simultaneously too small and too big for her skin.

Had she _done _that?

'Yes', the reply came almost mechanically to her, 'yes you did.'

"_Up_," a voice grunted, elbows under her armpits and her feet dangling before touching the sand, "you come."

Yasumi's hazel eyes scrutinised her from behind a dark beard flecked with blood. There was something that looked suspiciously like entails hanging from his ear. Oki winced.

"Is she alright?" Captain Yuki's voice wafted from somewhere behind Yasumi's broad shoulders, her tone as ever cordial and detached.

"Yeah," Yasumi grinned down at Oki, huge hand carefully plucking the goggles from her eyes, "yeah, just a bit shocked. You did some good work there kid."

"The injuries on the other one are minor, a broken rib and a small scar across his forehead," Captain Yuki replied, "Nothing that won't heal. Yasumi?"

"Yeah," the massive man straightened and twisted his waist to look at their Captain.

Oki focused on the rusty stain gleaming wetly at the hem of Yasumi's pants.

"You carry the prisoner," she paused, "the two Genin can help each other home."

Robotically Oki moved to the commands. She crossed the sand, latticed with marks from the Suna Nin's chain, and knelt beside where Hiro had his head bent over Aki's unconscious body. Half Aki's face was smeared with blood, the cut Captain Yuki mentioned concealed beneath the wad of dark cloth Hiro was pressing against his partners forehead. Hiro flinched as she squatted down.

"Are…" Oki coughed away the huskiness in her throat, "Are you two okay?"

Hiro paused. He stayed silent and completely still for a long time.

When he finally slowly turned to face her and nodded; his smile was hesitant and wavering, his eyes tired and watery. Oki had the sudden uncharacteristic urge to grasp his shoulder. Maybe for his comfort, maybe for her own or maybe it didn't matter. She wanted to say sorry that he was hurt but what good were was 'sorry' from her. Perhaps it didn't matter. Oki and the Shimabukuros had come through the night mostly intact, and nothing _needed_ to be acknowledged.

Instead she grabbed Aki's legs and muttered, "Hiro, you take his arms."

….

"Hey."

They looked up. Haruka perched at the edge, fist raised and ready to thump a wide-eyed and cowering Hozumi. Shunpei Morikawa's mouth still open as he halted the hushed conversation he had been engaging in with a hunched Chukichi. The hot plate sizzled and hissed between them, Oki Tachibana at one side and the five other Genin huddled together at the other. She felt ridiculously self-conscious.

It had been almost two months since Oki had arrived in the Land of Wind and this was the first time she had initiated conversation with her peers. She'd never expected it to be so hard but then again Oki hadn't cared what people thought of her before, only that they thought of her. But it was…different out here.

Nishihama had been safe. Kirigakure (compared to here) had been safe. Here, she was alone and hanging onto a spider's web. It wasn't _any_ approximation of safe here. Oki too wasn't who she used to be in Nishihama or Kirigakure, and she wasn't someone else. She'd brooded for long enough. She'd been the one to crow about motivation and self-improvement to Kenki all those years ago, and even though she was barely recognisable to that girl they were still one and the same. If she was so willing to sacrifice so much, to_ kill_, for her own ambition and the need to see the next dawn then she had better face her situation. But…_how_ did she even begin? Damn it, she didn't even know _where_ she was going with this and they were all staring at her and-

"Hey!" Akihiro's cheerful and overly enthusiastic waving tore into the silence, "What's up Oki? Did you want to sit down?"

"Yeah," Oki nodded, "thanks."

The next few moments were occupied with Akihiro shuffling Hozumi (the pallid faced ten year old really was the whipping boy of the group, if Akihiro in his Tatemae state was capable bossing him around) to the left with shooing motions and a dopey smile. Akihiro patted the now empty space next to him with glee and Oki awkwardly slotted herself between him and Hozumi.

"So what's up?" Akihiro (mercifully) commandeered conversation, "I thought you were….ah, I've forgotten but it definitely had something to do with Captain Yuki…or was that-"

"Nope, Genjutsu theory with Captain Yuki," Oki interrupted before Akihiro could tie himself into knots.

"I was right?" Akihiro murmured, blinking with mild surprise.

"Er…." Shunpei cleared his throat from where he was sitting on the other side of Akihiro, "How is that coming along?"

"What?" Oki shifted to face him. He winced slightly. She made a mental note to smooth her tone.

"The Genjutsu, Captain Yuki is a very knowledgeable teacher but…." He shrugged and looked busily about himself.

"She's fucking terrifying," Haruka grunted then gave a shrill, nervous laugh, "Er, right Hozumi?"

The boy made a squeaking sound in his throat.

"Yeah," Oki nodded (had conversation always been this awkward?), "I think it's worse when she smiles, y'know?"

"Right! Right!" Haruka leaped on the subject, "Especially 'cause it can go one of two ways."

"Either she pats you on the back for doing a good job," Shunpei shuffled further in, Chukichi silent and lingering at the outskirts behind him.

"_Or _she puts her hand _through_ ya back, for doin' a bad one," Oki smirked.

Haruka's laughter was loud and brash and ended in hiccup little snorts that set Shunpei chuckling and Oki grinning. Akihiro looked like a particularly idle dog as his head swivelled between them all, trying and failing to follow the conversation but enjoying the sound of voices all the same.

"Oh! Shunpei remember that time Captain Yuki froze Hozumi's head?" Haruka directed an evil smile at the boy who sighed and pulled into himself further.

"Man, how could I forget," Shunpei's tone was almost wistful before adding a belated, "No offense, Akihiro."

"None taken," Akihiro nodded contentedly though it was obvious he had no idea _what_ he was meant to be offended about.

"His head?" Oki raised a brow, "his whole head, how'd that happen?"

"Well…." Haruka began with another smirk at Hozumi. When the boy released a long-suffering sigh, her grin only grew.

**A/N:**

**Okay, another chapter up. This one is far more violent but be assured, the Suna Nin Captain Yuki captured will play a part next chapter. Trying to skip time without skipping too much IS proving difficult however, since I need Oki's time logged but I don't want to dawdle around with it at the same time. In regards to the skills of the Suna Nin, and Oki being about to beat him; he's a really green Chunin (so just a little more experienced than Chukichi anyway) and Sunagakure have a lower military strength than Kirigakure (I THINK Sunagakure's is actually the lowest out of all the Shinobi Villages, but don't quote me on that) so none of the Suna heavy-hitters (like Gaara, Kazekages and/or Sasori) I'm factoring that fact into their strength.**

**Reviewer Replies:**

**RandomCitizen: Wow influx of reviews, my phone's going nuts XD but thank you very much for each one! I hope you're enjoying it so far :]**

**Ceradin: Thank you for the review! I'm glad you like Akihiro, I always imagine he's like the oblivious glue between the tensions of Oki vs Narumi and Chukichi :3 **

**TurtleBiscuit: Completely chuffed with all the positive feedback about Akihiro's Kekkai Genkai, I thought it'd be a little boring compared to some of the BAMF ones in the series , and yeah Oki's not trying very hard to fit in (but when has she tried, considering Hajime was like her PA in the Academy) hopefully a bit more of an insight on Team Narumi for you in this chapter :D Thanks for the review and your continued support!**

**Tough Chick: Can't tell you how they meet up though it won't be for a good while yet ;) Thank you for the review!**

**SadisticAvocado: With Oki and vendettas? The ride never ends! Glad you like Akihiro's Kekkai Genkai, it's weird thinking that there was likely so many more Kekkai Genkai in Kirigakure before the purge that are extinct (or nearly extinct) by the start of the series :/ You've got a bit more of a hint (though hint might be an understatement) at Oki's skills this chapter, and as for the mystery Suna Nin (damn, this feels like an episode of Who's That Pokemon XD) I won't tell just yet but the Suna nin captured in this chapter plays a part in his involvement. Thanks for the review!**

**THANK YOU to everyone who's read, followed and favourited this story too!**


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