Chapter 11
It was overall, a decent-ish afternoon.
They have a stilted conversation about bukijutsu. Though the girl didn’t know much about the weight of kunai or shuriken or senbon. Probably because she doesn’t have any actual experience with them, about the differences in weight of individual pieces and how much ninja wires can take. A civilian, with a brain so much more.
Kanae hastrouble keeping up with the girl. Scenarios after scenarios after scenarios, she gives and gives and gives and Kanae takes and takes and takes. Angles, wind speeds, resistance, throw strength, everything.
This girl is a genius of the highest order, and Kanae wants to crack open her skull to inspect her brain just to see how it works, because she is brilliant.
At one point or another, the girl’s companion returned and was joining in on the discussion too. The two match one another in intelligence, though the red hair takes a longer time to consider all variables. They are a strange pair, certainly. Look alike, so probably siblings or cousins, at the very least.
From there it was a three way battle of mind, and Kanae found herself enjoying it somewhat. It’s faint, but her sadness is sipping away. She’s… not quite empty.
Kanae won’t be able to properly grieve for a while yet, but it’s easier, when her temper runs hot and her mind a mile an hour. When the atmosphere is accepting and unfamiliar but not unwelcoming. When quick wits and sharp retorts are the automatic responses.
So when the girls eventually rise to leave, Kanae finds herself disappointed. It was… fun. To be with them, but mostly with the dark hair one. That one is calm, soft spoken and polite, but with sharp edges hidden behind benign smiles. Kanae likes her.
They part ways with small waves and a grin.
Kanae should report these talents to someone. Surely they’ll flourish as shinobi. The red hair is athletic, with a mind suited for strategy, diplomacy and politics. With enough training, she’ll be great.
The black hair girl has a charm few can refuse, and even fewer actually detect it before they’ve fallen. Kanae didn’t notice until she was well into the conversation. Her brain is of another world, tactics and manipulation coming easily, calculations start and finish like lightning. She understands sacrifices, knows resources and information. The girl would make a great leader.
But then the black hair one raises a finger to her lips, and gives Kanae a wink. The universal sign of silence. An askance of favor unnamed, but not unheard. “Don’t speak about us, please.” The action said.
Strangely enough, that night, when Kanae returns home and curls up in her room, she finds herself not having told anyone about the prodigies she met. She should have. But Kanae didn’t, and probably won’t.
Stupid smile and beauty mark.
Stupid heart for hoping to see them again.
The second day comes, and Kanae finds herself in the same place as the day before, a book about advanced bukijutsu tucked into her arm.
Kanae wants the same easy acceptance, no questions asked. They provide it readily.
They submerge themselves into discussion, twisting words and sentences, intention and spirit, putting forth situations possible but unlikely.
Kanae finds herself explaining clans and bloodline limits and chakra techniques and affiliation to the two girls. They absorb it like a sponge.
When the three girls part way around before sunset, none of them have exchanged names or ages or clan.
Kanae doesn’t mind that.
Then the next day, Kanae finds herself at the same riverside.
And the next day.
And the next.
And the next.
On the third day, Kanae told the redhead to start hiding her hair. It’s not Konoha's color, and people pay attention.
The fourth day, the black head gave her a few pieces of candy. It’s sweet. Kanae doesn’t hate it.
“We can’t exactly keep meeting like this.” The red hair wonders out loud. Kanae twitches, an aborted flinch.
“Why not?” The words are feigned calmness. Really. Kanae isn’t freaking out. “It seems to be working fine.”
“We prefer to wander everywhere. Stationary doesn’t suit us.” The black hair snaps her book close, making the redhead move right next to her. They react well to one another’s cue. Kanae kind of wants that too.
“So?”
“We don’t know how to call you.” The redhead points out. “Well, not like we’ve introduced ourselves yet…”
A huff from the black hair girl. “Kochou. Call me Kochou.”
“And I’m Hana! Or, O’hana, if we go by traditional names-“
Two gazes train onto Kanae, but she relaxes. She can tell it’s not their real name, so she’s not required to tell her own either. They aren’t pushing, just simple curiosity.
“You can call me Anka. Nice to meet you.”
It’s a simple thing, that Kanae blurts out without thinking. There’s no thought behind it, the name.
But the black hair one - Kochou - smiles and so it’s fine.
God. Dependency. Kanae is halfway to fucked. Or already fucked.
Ah. Whatever.
Ayaka doesn’t exactly like the new girl, no matter how her twin keeps telling her she’s fine.
Really.
Anka - a fake name, obviously, it’s not like they’re expecting any real name at all - is an Uchiha. Duh. Despite lacking the clan mon, the fair features and fine black hair is a very obvious thing. Uchiha are not well-liked, as is any shinobi in a civilian outlook, but they are the police officers, who the kids were taught to come to for help. Ayaka can’t count the amount of time she herself has come up to an Uchiha, in uniform or not, to ask for the way home.
But she’s grieving. Sadness clings to her chakra - sunshine warmth and billowing fire that doesn’t burn - like a leech, and it shouldn’t be there, Ayaka thinks. The only notable shifting of Anka’s chakra is when Ann talks to her, a lackluster reaction, but better than the stillness in her eyes.
Ayaka hates that look.
Too empty, too reminiscent of a past long gone, too familiar-
Too much.
Ayaka doesn’t like Anka.
But she can tolerate her just fine, Ayaka thinks.
Kochou and Hana don’t reappear the next day. But that’s fine, because Kanae doesn’t expect them to. They had one another’s name, or alias, or whatever.
They never agreed on when to meet up, so Kanae comes to the riverside everyday.
Green green eyes fill her mind.
Ah. Uchiha’s obsession, at its finest.
Uzume-oba-san is going to be pissed.