A Day in the Life of a Normal Girl
Fuu considered herself to be normal.
Sure, sometimes she had wings. And green hair. And she occasionally sneezed a poisonous powder potent enough to take down a jonin if she used enough of it (a recent development she blamed on stress and whatever that damn buzzing noise was in the back of her head). But "normal" was relative, right? She liked sunny days, hated brussels sprouts, and thought puppies were the absolute pinnacle of cuteness. What wasn't normal about that?
The infirmary cot creaked as she shifted, wincing at the bandages constricting her ribs. Her fight against Bushy Brows had ended… poorly. Who knew the other girl could scream so loud that it burst her ear drums while punching her hard enough that it was stronger than most jutsu? She'd have to ask Sōkotsu about that later. He knew a lot of stuff about… stuff. She'll ask him when she gets out of here… if he ever stopped being weird.
Speaking of weird…
The door slammed open. Sōkotsu strolled in, his prosthetic eye (or was it just a stolen eye? She wasn't sure) glowing violet, and he had a smug smirk plastered on his dumb handsome face like he'd just won the lottery. "Hey, Glitterbug. Saw you got your ass kicked. Figured I'd come kiss it better for you~"
Fuu stuck out her tongue at the bratty boy that had stolen her heart. "You try fighting the girl that could punch you so hard you leave the country."
He flopped onto the cot beside her, his weird yellow glowy light already shimmering around his hands. She saw him use it when he liked showing off that dumb eye of his before the matches. "Relax. I'll have you sneezing glitter in no time."
"It's poison powder, you jerk–"
The light engulfed her. It was warm and syrupy, mending her fractures and silencing all her lumpy purple bruises. Fuu sighed in relief, then cooed in delight when the boy moved his hand up to her head. This just wasn't fair. First he smelled awesome, and now his hands were magic too?!
"There. Good as new." He leaned closer, his damn sexy smell wafting off him making him smell… good, she couldn't explain it, but he smelled like how sex felt. "Now, about that thank-you kiss…"
Fuu blushed a scarlet color that was a deeper red than that weird chakra she used during her fight. With a smile of her own, she'd lean forward and press the most chaste and innocent kiss to the boy's cheek. "There you go. That's what you wanted from Fuu, right?~"
A groan cut through the infirmary's haze, interrupting her admirable attempt to get this sexy smelling boy to pound her into this hospital bed. Fuu glanced over at the cot across the room, where a familiar girl in orange 'glitter'-covered green spandex thrashed against her restraints. Jade Lee, Konoha's self-proclaimed "Miniature Green Beast", was apparently tired of waiting for her own wounds to heal. Honestly, they were both lucky they didn't cripple each other during their fight. That would've been a bad way to start a friendship.
"Hey," Fuu nudged Sōkotsu, nodding at Jade. "Heal Bushy Brows too."
He raised a brow. "Why? She's not dying."
"Because she's… my friend. Like you. Plus she's gonna hurt herself if you leave her."
Jade chose that moment to shout, "DYNAMIC ENTRY!" and managed to nearly upend her IV stand as she flexed her broken limbs and managed to jerk her cast covered foot forward.
Sōkotsu snorted. "Fair point."
As the healing light enveloped Jade, Fuu studied her. The girl's eyebrows were impressively bushy, her grin unhinged even in unconsciousness. Yet there was a sincerity to her crazy antics, and she had a purity Fuu envied. The bold spandex wearing girl knew who she was, and she seemed to love every second of it.
Fuu wished she could be like that.
Sōkotsu moved on to other patients, the pink-haired girl and the blonde who got into an argument back during the first phase of the exams along with the Uchiha girl whose spasms of pain briefly calmed down whenever he touched her. His smirk softened into something that was kind, and she almost got a little possessive when she saw the two conscious girls start looking at him like Fuu looks at him! She knew she chose the right person to be her first friend. He's obviously good friend material if so many other girls want him, even if…
Even if he's weird too.
It wasn't just the eye, or the sword that she swore she could hear whispering when she wasn't paying complete attention to it. It was the way he'd sometimes freeze mid-sentence, gaze instantly focused, like he was reading a scroll that suddenly appeared right in front of his face. Or the way he laughed at jokes only he seemed to get. Right now, he was staring at the wall, violet eye flickering as if decoding secrets in the plaster. Then he started smirking.
"Helloooo?" Fuu waved a hand in front of his face. "You gonna finish healing her or just creep out on her while she's squirming around?"
Sōkotsu blinked, shaking himself. "Right. Sorry, Little Miss Uchiha. Got a tiny bit distracted." He'd say, before pulling a golden cross out of his pocket and placing it on the girl's chest. With a tired sigh, her shaking and pain seemed to stop, and for the first time since Fuu entered the room, the girl actually looked at peace.
By dusk, the infirmary hummed with semi-stable patients. Bushy brows was arm-wrestling a fully recovered chubby girl, and the pink-haired girl and the blonde-haired girl had gotten into at least 10 more arguments since they woke up. Fuu flopped back onto her cot, staring up at the tiled ceiling and hoping her teammates stayed out of the room for at least the rest of the day.
Maybe "normal" was overrated. Maybe her being weird was just her being… her.
Sōkotsu collapsed beside her, and while he still smelled great like always, she could also practically smell the smug wafting off of him.
Why did it make him cuter?!
As if he was aware of her thoughts, the annoyingly amazing boy just gave her that smug grin of his that made her thighs tense up and her tummy feel all weird. "Heh, I think you like it here."
She flicked some of her non-poisonous glitter at him, the worst it could cause is a sneeze, even if he deserved worse for making her blush like this. "Shut up."
Unfortunately for her, he just caught it mid-air, the sparkles dissolving in his palm. "Sorry, but… I couldn't resist. You're cute when you smile."
Outside, the moon rose over Konoha, it was like a silver eye watching over the freaks, the outcasts, the gloriously strange. All of which Konoha seemed to have in an infinite supply, and seemed to be drawn to Sōkotsu like moths to a flame.
Fuu smiled, giving the white haired boy a deep and loving 'thank you' kiss, knowing he couldn't spend all day waiting for the doctors to clear her to leave, so she had to make the time they had together worth it.
-x-X-x-
Ultimate Training Plan, Believe It! Pt. 1: The First Pervy Teacher Appears
Naruko tried to forget the way that short Kumo boy's glare made her stomach flutter as she marched her way to the part of the infirmary where Sakura was supposed to be. She can't be thinking about that… that damn hot bastard when her teammate is still laying broken in a hospital bed!
She should have cheered on Sakura more, but the fight was so quick. One minute the pink-haired girl who loved hitting her was charging at the chick with the big-ass fan, and the next time Naruko looked down the match was over and her teammate was being carried out on a stretcher.
The hallways on the way to Sakura's room reeked of antiseptic and failure. She always hated the icky hospital smell that filled medical rooms like this. She storms her way through it like a blonde hurricane, her orange jacket flapping behind her. Sakura better be alive, or she's gonna resurrect her harpie of a teammate just to kill the pink-haired girl for being such a wimp. But when she slams open the door to her room, she freezes.
Sakura is sprawled on the bed, snoring like a chainsaw with her bandages looking fresh and absolutely pristine, but there wasn't a scratch on her. The real shock though? The entire infirmary was packed with healed genin. The Kumo bone freak, lounged in the corner, giving the green haired chick who fought Bushy Brows such a sloppy kiss that Naruko thought she might… might need a minute to herself just from seeing it!
"Oh, hey, Uzumaki," he says, grinning like he knows exactly what she was daydreaming about earlier. "Your friend's fine. Just needed a nap. Unlike some people–" He nods at Naegi Hyūga, who's tied to a bed with an IV hooked up to her. Unlike everyone else in the room, her wounds still looked semi-serious, with her having a massive bump on her head. "–who thought it'd be smart to try and poke a hole through my chest."
She crosses her arms, glaring at the cute boy who was acting way too nice for a ninja who spent most of his time trying to look as scary as possible. "Who asked you to play nurse, huh?!"
He shrugs. "Figured I'd save the medics the hassle. Besides…" His smirk sharpens. "Makes Konoha look bad when I fix your messes."
Oh, fuck he's good. Smart and sexy? It's not fair!
She stomps out before her face betrays her. He isn't gonna make her into a traitor with that cute smile, or his pretty eyes, or his damn smell– STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!
She furiously hurries to the other side of the infirmary, not running away from the Kumo boy, because Naruko Uzumaki never runs away. She was just, uh, making a strategic retreat! A strategic retreat into a room where she can hopefully be alone with her thoughts for a bit.
Satsuki's room is colder than a Snow Country winter. The Uchiha propped against the window and her Sharingan still deactivated, but there's a new… thing on her neck. A strange golden necklace with a thick and weird 't' shaped symbol. It was incredibly intricate and the gems on it glimmered faintly as it seemed to suck in the dark chakra coming off of Satsuki. Meanwhile Kakashi-sensei, with her hitai-ate tilted to the side to hide her Sharingan, is staring at it like it just insulted her favorite pervy porn books.
"Ah, Naruko," Kakashi says, not looking up. "Satsuki's fine. Just a… new fashion choice."
"Fashion choice?!" She jab a finger at the mark leaking all that dark chakra. "That's the Snake Lady's creepy stalker symbol! She was so weird sensei, she fed me to a snake and I saw it in the Forest of Death when—"
"Irrelevant," Satsuki herself snaps, her eyes blinking open as she yanks her collar up to hide the mark. "It's under control."
"Control?!" Naruko whirls on Kakashi. Satsuki was doing her weird 'I'm too good for this' act, so it was up to her to make sure her sensei made it so the amazing Naruko Uzumaki could kick her arrogant Uchiha ass. "Teach me something cool to beat that sand psycho and the snake weirdo, sensei! Like, like a giant water dragon! Or a fireball that explodes twice as much as Satsuki's! Or–"
Kakashi sighs, snapping her book shut as she gave her a disappointed look. "Naruko, I'm not the best teacher for you." Well, at least she was honest–
"WHAT?!"
"But," she adds, eye-smiling at the currently seething blonde, "I know someone who is."
The door creaks open. A man in the standard Konoha chunin vest and some very generic sunglasses that remind her of the two Konoha Genin who died brutally in the prelims strikes a pose.
"ENTER… EBISU!"
She gags, she can't believe Kakashi-sensei would stick her with this pervy loser. "Him?! But he's–he's–"
"Konoha's finest tutor!" Ebisu adjusts his glasses, gleaming with long-hidden competence (and probably hidden perversion too). "Prepare to be polished to brilliance, Uzumaki-san. I hear you've been struggling with your basics. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be the best Shinobi on your team!"
Satsuki snorts before closing her eyes and going back to sleep. Kakashi vanishes in a puff of logic-defying smoke.
Naruko started to let out a quiet whine as the pervy tutor handed her a training outline telling her to meet him at the fucking onsen tomorrow.
Pervy bastard just wants to stare at my tits!
Later, she's slumped over Ichiraku's counter and she inhales ramen like it's her last meal. Even if she'll be back for another bowl before her training with him in the morning. "Old man Teuchi," she mumbles through noodles, her voice sounding depressed and broken, "how do you beat up a guy who's hot and stronger than you?"
Teuchi slides her another bowl. "Well if he's anything like my favorite ninja, distract him with ramen. Works every time."
She doesn't know if the ramen will work… but he does like to stare at her boobs when he thinks she isn't looking. Maybe that's a good plan? It kinda worked for the other girls in his first match, and with her clones, she could have infinite tits!
She scribbles in her 'cool jutsu' notebook (she mostly used it to grade ramen flavors):
STEP 1: BEAT BONE FREAK WITH RAMEN AND TITS.
STEP 2: CHAIN HIM TO BED.
STEP 3: ???
STEP 4: HOKAGE.
It's foolproof. Believe it.
-x-X-x-
Her Pain, Her Pride, and His Power
Satsuki Uchiha considered herself to be something of a survivor.
She wasn't delusional, she knew the only reason she was still breathing was because HER madness somehow excluded Satsuki from HER sudden homicidal rampage.
Still, she considered herself to be better at taking pain than most. After being put through that for days straight, forced to watch the faces of the people she loved go lifeless. Forced to watch her parents' bodies hit the floor.
Forced to train herself so hard that her knuckles were left a bloody mess every night, just for a chance at catching up to HER.
So that's why, Satsuki thought it meant something when she acknowledged one simple fact about what she was currently going through.
It hurt.
Not the kind of pain she could grit her teeth through. Not the kind of injury that made you stronger as your muscles burned or inspired a well of determination you never knew you had deep down. No. This was something worse.
This was the kind of pain that made her feel powerless. Like SHE did.
Satsuki Uchiha, the last true heir to her clan's legacy, was curled up tightly in her hospital bed with her limbs trembling not from the cold, but from the cursed markings burning into her skin like a brand forged from her own hatred. From her own desperation for power, the power that she reached for out there in the fighting ring. It pulsed with a heat that felt alive. It was parasitic and hungry and absolutely addictive when the power was surging through her. It whispered to her through every nerve ending, reminding her of her weakness, reminding her of the one who gave to her.
Even the thought of her made Satsuki's skin crawl. The awful woman's serpent-like breath still lingering in her memory as those slitted golden eyes promised her the world, as long as Satsuki could reach out and take it. The woman had 'gifted' her this mark as if it were a blessing. "You seek power, don't you, Satsuki?" The way the disgusting woman said her name, like she already owned it. Like she owned her.
Satsuki hated her.
Satsuki hated herself.
Deep down, Satsuki finally admitted that she hated more than everything else the fact that she, in that moment, had completely lost control.
She hated that she should be dead. That she should have died in that forest still so far away from killing HER.
And then, the pain stopped.
It didn't fade gradually or numb with time, it was taken from her. Ripped away with unnatural efficiency. A clean, almost cleansing sensation swept over her like a cold wind brushing away ash from the sides of an open flame, and for the first time since the match, she could breathe.
She opened her eyes slowly.
That boy. The Kumo Genin, the one with the swords and the weird eye. Sōkotsu, she thinks she heard his name was from one of the two loud brown skinned girls who attached themselves to him at the hip.
She didn't understand him. Couldn't understand him. He'd just... appeared. No theatrics, no smugness, and seemingly no pride. Just a touch, a glow, and her pain was gone. He hadn't said anything right away, just leaned in with this casual confidence that made it impossible to tell if he was being the kindest man she's ever met or mocking her for believing a delusional piece of fiction like that for a even a single moment.
Then, he handed her that necklace. A golden 't' shaped symbol. It was heavy and strange and it felt almost sacred, like the incense her father burned when he took her to Naka Shrine for the only time. It didn't match anything about him, he was bold and cocky but this healing technique and strange item felt almost soothing. Still, the moment it touched her skin the dark chakra retreated.
It wasn't sealed. It wasn't erased. It was almost like it was tamed.
Like it was hers.
She passed out after that. Not from exhaustion, but from relief. The kind that makes you feel like your spine is about to collapse and your limbs turn to jelly. She had been awake since she woke up in the forest days after her encounter with the weird ninja who gave her this mark. She tried to resist for as long as she could, but rest had finally claimed her.
And then–
Chaos
The Uchiha heir cracked one eye open to the all-too-familiar, shrill battle cry of the Konoha Bimbo herself. She couldn't see her from this angle, but the sound alone was enough for her to deduce the identity of the culprit.
Uzumaki Naruko.
Satsuki winced and rolled her eyes, not from the pain this time, but from the volume. Gods, did she have to scream every time she walked into a room? Everyone here already recognized her, there was no need to announce her presence like the overexcited girl was prone to doing.
Satsuki turned her head toward the commotion just enough to see Kakashi leaning against the wall, her arms crossed, and that lazy hitai-ate covering her left eye. The jonin didn't even flinch as Naruko pointed an accusatory finger straight at Satsuki's collarbone.
Kakashi's smooth voice cut through the endless noise of her annoying idiot of a teammate. Calm, measured, tired. "Naruko, Satsuki's fine. Just a… new fashion choice."
"Fashion choice?!"
She tuned out their argument, letting the silence wash over her again. She could feel the collection of chakra swirling inside of her now. There was her own, the cursed mark's foul purple chakra, and the oppressive and heavy chakra of the necklace the boy had given her that restrained the chakra of the mark.
It was oddly calming.
"That's the weird Snake Lady's creepy stalker symbol!" Naruko yelled, practically vibrating in place.
Satsuki's mouth twisted into a faint smirk, already enjoying the control this strange necklace was giving her. "It's under control," she said coolly, with her voice flat. She even felt calmer while she was wearing it. Her hatred was still there of course, cold as ice and sharp as iron, but it didn't flare up to the heated embers she was used to feeling. It stayed cool. Stayed focused.
Because she had to be focused.
Because she wouldn't be saved again.
Because she would only have one chance, if she wanted to kill HER.
The white haired boy's necklace pulsed faintly against her collarbone as if it were listening. She almost imagined that it liked her. She hated that she could feel it. She hated that it comforted her. Something like this would be a weakness, a crutch.
But for now, she clung to it anyway.
When Kakashi suggested sealing the mark, Satsuki didn't protest, but she didn't verbally accept either. She tuned them out when her sensei went back to arguing with the bimbo and she let them talk. Let Naruko flail and complain and stomp out when assigned to that pervert tutor. She resisted to crack a smile at the outcome. It's too bad she wouldn't be free to watch that training, she'd pay good money to see how long Naruko would last underneath the 'finest teacher in Konoha'.
She dismissed the amusing thought as she stared at her hand.
It wasn't shaking anymore. When she came into the room, her whole body had been shaking uncontrollably.
She remembered how it had looked, when her body buckled, when she collapsed after the match like a child. No elegance. No dignity. Nothing befitting her position as the Last Uchiha. She wouldn't trust the sight of her showing that much weakness to her closest friends, never mind someone who should be an enemy.
But he'd seen it. That white haired Kumo boy had seen her fall apart.
And… he helped her.
She didn't know why that made her jaw clench so hard.
Perhaps it was her pride.
Perhaps it was her shame.
Or maybe…
Maybe it was the knowledge that someone like him, someone who was strong and brutal. Who was calm under pressure and could see her broken and still offer a hand, had offered that help to her without even a second thought. That while she struggled day after day to get resources from her own village, a strange boy who should be her enemy offered her a poisoned chalice filled with a delectable nectar that she couldn't resist.
The worst part was that she had taken it. The pain was gone for now, but her pride was bruised in ways even his incredible healing chakra couldn't fix. Not even with the effect of this strange talisman.
Her fingers brushed the weird symbol again, pressing it into her skin just to feel it burn a little as it tightened its control over the dark chakra lurking within her body.
She needed this power.
Thankfully, she knew just who she needed to ask about it…
-x-X-x-
Yandere Stalking Pt. 1
The names on the bracket burn into Gaara's vision like brands. It only takes her a fraction of a second to take in the insult, the pathetic attempt at protection and sabotage.
She didn't have a first-round match.
Her sand ground together at her feet, grains coiling and uncoiling like serpents denied prey as her control tightened while her fury raged within. She didn't show it, but she considered making a scene. She didn't, she would prove her existence by slaughtering them all, and wouldn't allow a meddling proctor to get in her way.
The Konoha shinobi seem to think they're clever, delaying her slaughter and pitting her against the other monster in the competition. Letting the weaklings be spared from them. She sees the truth behind their actions. They fear her, just like everyone else. Fear what her sand will do to their precious Leaf genin if she is allowed to step in the ring with one of them. Fear the monster her father smuggled into their village under the pretense of the exam.
Her dead teal eyes flick to the white-haired boy, lounging against a pillar with that infuriating smirk of his. His aura prickles against her senses, and the violet chakra seething from the strange eye pulsing in his skull. His strange cursed blade at his hip was humming with a strange feeling that felt familiar to her.
He reeks of power.
Power like her own, power that transcends any petty 'training' or 'technique'. He was born a monster, just like her.
She can't wait to kill him.
Then there's the Uchiha girl. Satsuki. Gaara's gaze lingers on the door leading to the infirmary wing where the girl rests. The Sharingan's crimson glare, the dark chakra leaking from her like poison… the glare in her eyes, a glare Gaara recognized. Her hate gave her purpose, strengthened her even when all she knew was pain. The girl wasn't a monster, she wouldn't be a true match for Gaara or the White-haired boy, but she had the right attitude.
A worthy sacrifice.
Still, it's the boy from Kumo who holds her attention. When he moves, it's with a predator's grace and his intimidating presence clashing against her killing intent as he passes. The sand at her feet surges, itching to crush his bones, to paint the walls with his defiance. Yet he doesn't flinch. He grins, tossing a taunt over his shoulder like a challenge:
"Save your sand for our match. You'll need it."
Her sand lunges, eager to soak in his blood. To prove her existence against the only being who she has ever considered to be worthy of her remembering. His face, his screams, she'd cherish them forever.
He's already gone.
The door slams behind him.
Gaara doesn't blink, simply sagging in a brief moment of disappointment.
Her sand coils tighter, whispering promises only she can hear. Kill him. Crush him. Prove you are eternal. Mother's laughter rumbles in her skull, a guttural echo that drowns out the arena's noise along with her murderous demands. She had learned to ignore the voice, and its screams. She simply pointed a murderous glare at the door the boy escaped through.
She steps forward, the crowd parting like water before a shark. The proctors stiffen, but none dare stop her. They might know what she is. They might not. It doesn't matter. They've seen enough to fear her.
Let them tremble. She has someone more important to follow.
The hallway outside the area is dim, lit by flickering candles that cast jagged shadows. Sōkotsu's scent lingers, smelling oddly irresistible. It was thick and potent, and smelled like desert flowers and fresh spilled blood cut through with something primal, animalistic. Her sand snakes ahead, almost eager as it seems to taste the air, guiding her to the strange boy.
It's leading her to the infirmary. To the Taki girl, no doubt. She saw his display of affection with her before the girl's match. Both her and the Konoha girl she fought were powerful. They would've made excellent targets to prove her existence. Yet, the thought that this boy actually cares for that mint-haired girl. Gaara's lips curl into a frown, her chest aching strangely even as she attempts to rationalize the feeling.
What a disappointing weakness.
She'd let him waste his mercy on soon to be broken things. It'll make his despair sweeter when she grinds the girl into dust before his eyes. Then, she would claim her prize…
By killing him, obviously.
Clearing her mind of traitorous thoughts, she continues following him despite her disappointment.
Through the sterile stench of antiseptic, past the groans of wounded genin, she finds him, her freshly created sand-eye spying on him within the infirmary. He's leaning over the green haired girl's bed, his strange purple eye glowing as a deep yellow light spills from his palm. The Taki girl stirs, her laughter too bright for the room of broken fighters.
Only it isn't a room full of the broken for long. Within a short period of time, every fighter within is fully healed, the only exceptions being the white haired boy's own opponents.
Pride in his actions, perhaps? In affirming his own existence? Interesting. His weakness is insulting, but he at least isn't so pitiful as to heal the damage he dealt to them.
She doesn't even spare a thought that it's her own sister who was left bed-ridden due to the boy's petty actions. That was the way of the world, after all. She reminded Kankuro of it often whenever the coward dared to speak out against her.
She'd seen enough. She dismissed the eye and lingered outside the room, staring at the doorway silent.
Sōkotsu doesn't turn as he exits, barely even acknowledges her existence. "Come to scout the competition, Princess?"
Her sand lashes out again, putting a deep indent in the wall beside his head. He doesn't flinch, dodging out of the way from the blow like it wasn't even a challenge. He's still wearing the strange cape he put on when he left the Preliminary Arena.
"Cute." He straightens, the purple light fading from his eye and giving her a smile that made her feel… strange. "But you'll need to do better than that."
Her fingers twitch, the gourd on her back shuddering. Mother roars within her mind, begging for release so she can destroy the boy herself. But she holds back from attacking again, barely.
Not here. Not yet. She would prove her existence with him in front of the world. Then, no one would be able to deny her, not even her meddling father.
"You should be afraid," she says, her voice a raspy mess due to disuse. She rarely has anything to speak of, or anyone worthy of hearing her words. Still, she feels compelled to say some words to this boy, before killing him.
He laughs, and it's a low and dangerous sound that makes her body tremble in the strangest of ways. "Of you? I've survived far worse, cutie."
The 'pet name' ignites her, and not just with anger. Sand erupts, attempting to pin him to the wall. She doesn't know what she plans to do next, the strange emotions he causes her having taken over, but she doesn't get a chance to find out. Like before, he's already gone.
His chuckle echoes from down the wall.
"See you in the arena, Princess."
…
She'd be seeing him much sooner than that. She'd save his death for the arena, but she rarely had the opportunity to view the acts of someone so similar to herself. She'd watch him closely, so she'd be able to remember every little detail when he was gone.
-x-X-x-
Waking up at the ass-crack of dawn was a pretty new experience for Naruko. Kakashi had them do it for the bell-test, but she and her teammates had learned to mentally add at least an hour to any time the Grey haired kunoichi gave them for any appearance. Excluding missions over D-rank of course, even her lazy sensei was usually on time for those.
Due to her groggy head in the morning, she forgot her bra (like usual) and rushed out when she finally saw the time on the alarm clock.
She was already 30 minutes late!
[Image]
Thankfully, the pervy teacher didn't seem to hold her tardiness against her. If anything, he just looked eager to get the training started.
Maybe she misjudged him. He might actually be good at this teaching stuff when he wasn't busy being a perv.
"Ah, Naruko. Please take off your clothes so we can begin your training."
…
...
She takes it back. She's gonna shove a Kunai up Kakashi's ass for sticking her with this perv, once she's done stabbing him with it of course.
The hot spring steamed like a boiling pot of regrets, and Naruko stood at the edge, arms crossed, glaring down at the gently rippling surface as if her chakra alone could force the water into submission. She eventually did what the dumb pervy teacher asked, once he explained himself. He could've just told her to bring a swim-suit, but if this helped her be a better ninja…
"This is stupid," she muttered. "I should be learning how to punch through walls or shoot fireballs like Satsuki, not… this."
Ebisu, in all his smug, sunglasses-wearing glory, adjusted his clipboard and grinned with all the pomp of a man who took way too much pride in spending most of his time teaching a kindergartener how to hold a kunai.
"Balance, Uzumaki. Control. Focus," he droned on with his sunglasses' covered eyes pointed right at her chest and blood dripping down his nose. "If your chakra is as wild as your mouth usually is, you'll sink faster than lead. Take a deep breath, close your eyes, and find your balance."
"Oh, screw you. You just want me to close my eyes so you can stare at my tits!"
"Your sensei put you in my care because she believed I was the best teacher for you. If you disagree, you are free to leave. Now, get on the water."
She huffed, stepped forward, and focused hard. Chakra gathered at the soles of her feet like warm threads, she focused on her usual technique she used for wall walking and tree-climbing. She stepped–
[Image]
And immediately splashed down to her waist.
She surfaced, gasping and spitting water. "DAMN IT!"
"Language," Ebisu muttered, staring at her water-slick chest, his distraction only growing once she got back on dry land. She could feel his pervy eyes tracking every water droplet as they went down her body.
Her eye twitched. She wanted to punch him. She didn't.
She tried again.
Sploosh.
And again.
SPLASH.
And again, this time making it three steps before the entire pond seemed to betray her, slurping her under and the sudden heat scorching her body. The shallow edges were warm, but the inner pools were steaming hot.
She burst back up with a scream. "FUCK YOU, WATER!"
Ebisu gave her a very patronizing sigh. He really was a stuffy bastard for someone who couldn't stop staring at her ass. "Calm yourself, Uzumaki. The water deserves your respect."
"I'LL RESPECT IT WHEN IT RESPECTS ME!"
She flung her soaked hair back like a furious cat, his eyes clinging to her chest in a way that made his barely professional face twitch. He couldn't even maintain his 'dignified teacher' act anymore.
She caught it: the micro-adjustment of the glasses, the slight lean of his head as she climbed back out, the way his pants got tight and blood dripped down his nose. That bastard thought he was slick. She glared at him with murder in her heart and a jutsu forming in her mind. It mostly consisted of punching at his family jewels until she was sure he was the end of his pervy lineage.
"Oh, I swear to the Sage," she growled, "if I learn one cool jutsu from this, it's gonna be called Ball-Busting Barrage."
"I was merely admiring your determination," the smarmy bastard lied.
"Yeah? Well admire THIS–"
Naruko stopped mid-rant.
Her head snapped up toward the bushes next to the men's side of the onsen. A shadow moved, a distinct shape hunkering low behind some of the foliage. Long spiky white hair, a big bust, and peeking way too hard through the gaps in the bamboo fence and shaking her thick ass while muttering under her breath.
[Image]
"The hell is that…?" she muttered.
Ebisu turned and followed her gaze, and then he screamed.
"YOU DEPRAVED DEGENERATE!"
The figure in the bushes yelped and turned, revealing a sharp-featured and shockingly attractive older woman with long spiky white hair, an open robe that showed way too much cleavage (hadn't this hussy heard of the sacred mesh shirts of the Hidden Leaf? Have some dignity!), and a wide grin on her face as if she'd just found the treasure chest of heaven.
"W-What?!" Naruko sputtered. "Is she some kinda girl-perv?!"
"NOT JUST ANY GIRL!" Ebisu barked, pointing like he was being forced to face off against a ghost of some legendary warrior. "That's-That's-That's Jiraiya! The Legendary Toad Sage, one of the three Sannin!"
Naruko's jaw dropped. "A sage, huh. She must be strong…"
"WAIT, YOU SAID SHE WAS A SAGE! NOT A SEXUAL PREDATOR!"
Jiraiya dropped out of the tree and landed with the grace of a smug cat burglar. She dusted off her pants and cocked a hip. "Relax you two, I was just researching. My wonderful works of art can't write themselves."
Naruko's eyebrow twitched. "You were spying on naked guys, you creep!"
"Equal opportunity pervert," Jiraiya said, totally unapologetic and getting ready to go peep on the female side of the onsen. "Besides, you wouldn't believe the muscles or 'muscle' on that Kumo boy. I normally like em' a little bit taller, but I wouldn't mind letting that little hunk-"
Ebisu charged, screaming about "honor" and "violations" and "filthy degeneracy"... and Jiraiya casually put her hand down on the ground after a series of hand-seals too quick for Naruko to follow, summoning a toad that crushed the pervy teacher before Jiraiya hopped on top of it.
[Image]
Naruko blinked. "Damn. Okay, that was actually cool."
Jiraiya cracked her knuckles. "Heh, I do my best, kid. Now, I need to get back to my research."
They locked eyes for a moment, the steam curling between them like the aftermath of a showdown. Then Jiraiya looked her up and down with a smirk.
"You're Uzumaki, right?"
"Yeah. What gave it away?"
"The attitude, mostly. You remind me a lot of someone I used to know." Jiraiya grinned. "So you wanna get stronger?"
Naruko puffed her chest. "Obviously. I've got a fight coming up, and I'm not losing. Not to a freakin' sand monster, or a snake stalker, or—or—"
She hesitated. Flushed.
Jiraiya raised a brow. "Or…?"
Naruko muttered, "Or some hot bone freak with a smug face and… and cool swords."
Jiraiya blinked, before giving her a pervy grin. "You say that like it's a bad thing. I know that kid has a sword I wouldn't mind–"
"I hate that it's a thing!" Naruko whined. "He's pretty! And he fights like a monster! And he saved people! And he kissed that green-haired girl like she was the only one in the world, and I swear it felt like I almost died from watching him fight! He's so cool!"
The pervy older woman's grin went from pervy to downright wicked. "Oh wow, you've got it bad. What's his name?"
"…Sōkotsu," Naruko whispered, practically vibrating with reluctant thirst. "He's a Kaguya. From Kumo. Has these eyes like he's constantly daring you to punch him… and, fuck, this smell that… nope. You can't make me talk about this, just teach me to fight!"
"Ohhh, I like him already," Jiraiya chuckled. "Let me guess. You wanna beat him so bad he has no choice but to fall in love with you, right? Heh, reminds me about a practice from a village I encountered out near the Land of Hot Water. They were the inspiration for Make-out Tactics - Snu Snu Paradise."
Naruko's face went crimson. She wanted to protest, but the words died on her lips. Naruko Uzumaki was a lot of things, but she wouldn't become a liar just because of a stupid guy… a stupidly hot sexy guy, but still!
"I-I want to beat him so bad he never looks at anyone else again… and also maybe chain him to my bed," she eventually mumbled out as her reply.
"Heh, girl after my own heart," Jiraiya said with what looked like a… proud(?) smile and a wink.
Naruko crossed her arms. "So are you gonna train me or what?"
Jiraiya leaned in, her face serious now, her tone shifting like a needle snapping into place.
"You've got crazy chakra, kid. More than most jonin. I felt it the second you stepped into the spring. You've got potential, and I like your spunky attitude, even if you seem like a bit of a brat."
"A BRAT, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING A BRAT?!"
"Uh-huh." She clapped her hands. "Alright. Here's the deal. You master water-walking in two days, and I'll start teaching you something that'll blow that little hunk's pants off. Till, then, just let me do my research and don't squeal and you'll be a good kid in my book."
"Something cool? Like a jutsu?"
"I ain't giving away any info until you actually manage to keep up your end. Now, is it a deal?"
Naruko grinned, her eyes blazing with determination. "It's a deal."
"Oh, and in return for my legendary training, I want something from you."
Naruko narrowed her eyes. "What?"
"Updates." Jiraiya smirked, her pervy grin returning with a vengeance. "About that bone boy. And if he's actually as sexy as you say when he's in action? I might keep researching him myself."
"OVER MY DEAD BODY!"
Jiraiya just laughed… before paling rapidly when the women in the onsen found the two of them next to the peephole. She managed to slide under the radar by saying Ebisu the Perv stole her clothes and she was chasing him, but Jiraiya didn't have that lucky excuse.
Her respect for the pervy woman plummeted when she started moaning during her 'beatdown'.
-x-X-x-
Yandere Stalking Pt. 2
The boy moved through the trees like with the subtlety of a ghost but with the speed of a lightning bolt. There was no hesitation in his movements. Not a single wasted motion. He didn't even bother to glance back to check if he's being followed.
He knows he's powerful enough to kill anyone who follows him. Including her, if he has to.
That thought burns her more than it should. She plans to kill him as well, but it's been a long time since she has actually feared for her life. Every mission, every assignment, where a normal ninja would fear death, she just found them impossibly boring. Barely even worthy of proving her existence.
The last man she feared this much was… maybe her father? He could kill her himself, if he was forced to do so. He didn't. He sent dogs to their deaths to test her strength and ensure she was always guarded, never allowing her a moment of peace.
She hated him. She didn't like comparing this boy to him.
She moves slower as she is distracted by her thoughts. For the first time in a long time, she struggles to be deliberately silent. It normally came naturally to her, a natural development of her quiet nature and the ability to use her sand to muffle her movements. She didn't want to take chances this time though.
Her sand-eye was already scouting ahead. A single speck of chakra-infused dust flits through the forest like a grain in the wind. She feels him through it. Sees him through it.
He isn't heading back to the village. Not toward wherever his team was staying. Not even toward the nearest gate out of the Forest.
He's heading deeper past the tree line and beyond the reach of any Konoha patrol.
There's a hunger in his steps, but it's not a hunger for battle, like she saw on his face as he waited for his match against Kankuro and the Hyuga. No, this time it was something else. Something almost sacred. Something she's sure most would see as a terrible omen.
She follows anyways. Her interest in the boy was too great for her to give up now, especially when she might learn more about his numerous strange powers. Perhaps she could learn of their source?
Perhaps he's like her?
The clearing the boy decides to stop in is quiet. Too quiet. Even the forest dares not breathe her. She faintly feels a dark chakra coming as if from the very air itself. She relaxes, her seal pulsing with curiosity as Mother goes silent for what feels like the first time in years.
She sees a circle carved into the earth as he raises his hand and tears apart some flimsy golden piece of paper (a sealing tag?). Strange lines burning faintly with the residue of the boy's dense and powerful chakra and patterns she can't fully understand are instantly added as well. His blood pools in the center, quickly filling the shapes and contours of the symbols and the circle.
This was not chakra as she understood it. And it certainly didn't seem like any type of ninjutsu. It was something older, something like the most ancient and forbidden kinjutsu rumored to be practiced by the most desperate clans during the Warring Era.
He kneels within the circle with his body relaxed and his energy focused. For a moment, she almost believed he was praying. To what deity, she did not know, but if someone like him gave them reverence, she might even decide to listen to their message before killing whoever decided to tell her of it.
Her thoughts of gruesome murder were disturbed as light exploded from the ground where he sat.
She doesn't flinch, she doesn't even let a single muscle twitch. She just watches, using the aerial view provided by her sand eye technique to see every detail.
One by one, three figures emerge from the light and sudden smoke where the boy sat.
The first one was small.
Too small.
She looked like a young girl. No, she was like a weapon pretending to be a girl. She pushed down her own memories of her younger years when she used to do the same, instead watching the scantily clad little creature approach the Kumo boy. She passed through the smoke with a gait like a skipping child at a funeral, unaware of the serious air that surrounded her and not caring either way. Her mind was elsewhere.
Her pale legs glistened in the moonlight, the top of her black stockings tightening as she moved forward, step by small barefoot step. Her eyes were wide and empty, they were green and glassy and almost dead.
Gaara's eyes narrowed in recognition. It was like staring in a mirror, aged back maybe a decade. Back when she first learned the way of the world. When she killed the only person who she ever believed might have loved her.
The man who died hating her, and who she couldn't bring herself to hate despite his betrayal.
Then the child turns slightly, and Gaara's train of thought freezes. She doesn't want to react to the sight.
But she does anyway.
[Image]
The girl's hips are ridiculous. Obscene. The way her round, fat rear juts from her petite frame seems anatomically impossible. With each step, it bounces, as if taunting the laws of physics and taste. Her small black thong clings tightly, desperately, as though terrified of slipping up another inch.
Gaara suddenly has trouble seeing the girl as a mirror to her younger years, because she wasn't sure she had a… gross deformity like that today!
She feels her eye twitch, and her sand coils uneasily. What the hell is she supposed to do with that? She wants to kill the girl, especially when the white haired boy's eyes dip down to that grotesque protrusion attached to her rear end.
She resists the urge, showing more restraint than she ever knew she had. She had to kill the boy during the finals. She had to, it was the best opportunity to prove her existence she would ever find.
This girl might not be so lucky.
Eventually she speaks, and her voice is too soft and too fragile.
She says her name (or maybe it's her title?).
Assassin.
Fitting, for a monster like her, even if she doubted in the creature's stealth abilities due to their body's… difficulties.
The second figure to emerge was like a creature bred for war given a human shape.
She rose through the black fog like a queen entering her domain. Her blood red eyes glowed like burning embers, and her body moved with the fluidity of a seasoned killer. She could recognize it, it was like the stride of her father or her sensei, only more. There was no hesitation, no mercy, just poise and power.
Her sand shifted restlessly, almost wanting to move to defend her just from feel of this woman's very presence.
This one is dangerous.
The woman's body was so different from the previous girl's that it wasn't even funny. She was a sculpture of strength: powerful, curved, but tight in all the places that were to be expected from a proper kunoichi. Her legs alone looked like they could crush steel. Her hips swung with weight and confidence, and her chest was firm and full beneath her thin violet bodysuit.
Nothing about her was soft, and she was barely even womanly in Gaara's mind. This was a warrior. Nothing more, nothing less. She shook as she felt fear coming from Mother for the first time in the many years she has dwelt within the red haired girl's sand.
Gaara watches her take up a blood red spear taller than most people, and feels her chakra stir the air like a storm. It makes even the ground tense.
[Image]
The woman calls herself Lancer. She also calls herself Scathach. Then she declared herself a queen of some strange 'Land of Shadows'. Still, Gaara believes her. This woman was clearly foreign to the lands of Shinobi, but she was still a seasoned killer. Her very presence reeked of blood and death.
Gaara feels something like... envy.
She distracted herself by taking in the appearance of the next creature that answered the strange ritual Sōkotsu had performed.
The third being was a lie. A foolish and annoying lie. A lie that tempted Gaara even more than the first being to go down there and kill those strange creatures.
Only the presence of the second stopped her.
She didn't want to die.
He landed in the circle like some strange performer doing their tricks on a battlefield, his very presence dismissing the serious airs of the other two. He had glittering pieces of white armor, but most of his outfit was some strange and… skimpy suit. His pink hair bounces with every dramatic pose. His face was soft and delicate and every feature seemed made to invite trust. His hips were too wide and his waist was too small. His thighs curved like those of the finest courtesan's.
And yet, he's... a boy. The tiny bulge in the front of his pleated black skirt was proof. She doesn't know how she feels about this. She felt envy for the second, disgust with the first… but what was she supposed to think about such a strange creature?
[Image]
The boy's smile was almost sickening in its sweetness. The way he moves is painfully half-done, as if he couldn't decide on his next action after every step. Every step was designed to distract, partially for others and partially for himself. She doubted her was even trying to move like an experienced seductress. It was just an inborn talent.
Gaara doesn't know what he's saying, mentioning a 'master' and shaking his hips while making strange noises, but she knows this much as she sees Sōkotsu's eyes go down to the boy's heart shaped rear as his skirt flips and he continues to playfully shake his hips:
This one's the most dangerous of them all.
Yet after that moment passed, Sōkotsu just stood there, and he had the nerve to smile like he's meeting old friends and not demons brought about by whatever strange ritual he enacted. Like this all wasn't the strangest thing the girl had seen in her short life.
Gaara's sand trembles and she realizes that she is breathing faster. Her fingers twitch as she recovers her control. Yet, there's an ache in her chest again as the boy takes in the sight of the otherworldly beauties in front of him.
It's the kind of ache she only feels when she remembers how much the world has denied her. How no one sees her. How she's alone with her sand keeping everyone at a distance, and with her mother's voice screaming in her mind, even if her presence was oddly silent around these strange beings.
But he's not alone.
He's surrounded by human weapons just like the two of them. Creatures not of this world. Creatures who were beautiful and deadly, and whose loyalty he treated as absolute..
She hates it. She hates them. And yet... she wants it.
Not the creatures or their loyalty.
Not the strange ritual that brought them into existence.
Him.
She wanted his power. She wanted his presence. She wanted his existence intertwined with hers for the rest of eternity.
She couldn't resist it. The way he defies everything, even her.
Especially her.
She doesn't even realize she's gripping her arm until the sand coating her body in light armor crunches softly in protest. She pulls her sand-eye back, letting it scatter into dust.
The image fades.
But it's burned into her skull.
She remembers the little killer with the dead eyed face and the ass large enough to qualify as a hindrance. She remembered the war-goddess queen with sharp eyes that seemed to slice through Gaara even though the strange ritual happened hundreds of yards away. She even remembered the feminine boy with a smile sweet as cane sugar and a sway in his foul hips that lured the eyes of any who looked.
Then she remembered Sōkotsu standing among them, calm among the strange creatures he had brought into this world.
She presses a hand to her heart and realizes that it's pounding. A rare thing, she can't remember the last time she felt sweat on her brow or fear in her stomach. The last time she stared at something and was certain she would die.
She had to kill him, of course.
Just not yet. Not until she carves her existence into his so deeply he forgets how to breathe without thinking of her, just like how she can't breathe without thinking of him. His presence, which feels so strong it makes it hard for her to breathe even as she is standing so far away.
And when he lies dying beneath her sand, unable to escape her gaze, only then will she let herself whisper what she knows is true into his ears, as his bones snap and the life leaves his eyes–
He belongs to her, and she belongs to him.
Even if she has to kill him and his new pets to prove it.
.