Changes
Their mother is as cruel as she is kind, Ayaka learned.
Her name is Tsunami, Mayuno Tsunami. She has the smile of a liar with so many, and Ayaka might not be the most accurate personality judge, but she’s not… right. Not with her, not with Ann, especially not with the orphanage lady.
A pathological liar, masking herself with so many facade you can never really tell which is real.
She has a gentle smile, something that melts Ayaka’s heart.
But there’s something chilling about the way she stares at the two of them.
Ayaka ignores it the same way she ignores the goosebumps she sometimes gets from Ann.
Her mother would not hurt her.
What a mistake, she would think later.
But that’s neither here nor now.
“I want to adopt this child-Ayaka-chan.” Tsunami says, and Ayaka’s heart soars.
But.
“Just me?” She can’t help but ask. No. No no no no no- No one can separate them. Not even their own mother. “What about nee-sama?”
Ayaka clutches her twin’s hand tightly, nervous. Her blood runs cold in her veins and something of a resistance builds up in the back of her brain-a creature of instinct she might be, but Ayaka has her priorities sorted out young.
“She’s my- my sister.” her voice cracks, as she swallows down the word twins. Not yet, Ann had told her not to. “I- I won’t leave her, dattebana!”
She surprised even herself with the little speech tick she suddenly developed. It’s… She has never had a speech tick before. It's weird.
Her mother smiles softly, like she anticipated it. Ayaka’s response was within her anticipation, and there’s a sort of assuredness about her now. Her chakra feels like relief under the blankness of beauty.
“Of course, dear.” Her mother purrs, a hint of delight in her chakra. Or it is only Ayaka’s imagination. “You two are a set, aren’t you?”
It sends shivers up her spine, the words. Like she and Ann are objects, purchasable.
Her mother’s tone is pleasant, slightly blank. Fake. Her chakra doesn’t waver, doesn’t change.
It feels hollow.
Ayaka ignores it and only holds her sister’s hand tighter.
Her mother softly smiles, a hand raised to cover it up. The movement is so elegant it soothes her mind. Distracting.
“And I would like the other child - Ann, isn’t it? - to become my apprentice.” She says airily, like an afterthought.
Almost completely disregarding Ann.
Ayaka feels angry. But also helpless. It’s an instinctive thing, that leaves her standing still and staring but not refuting.
The adoption went through.
Ayaka stays silent as she packs her things away.
Their mother brings them to a home of luxury.
More than luxurious, even.
She recognizes the neighborhood, of course.
You don’t survive being an orphan without knowing where to go and where not to go.
Oh god.
Their mother is a prostitute.
It’s awkward, to say the least.
Ayaka hasn’t had a mother for… counting her time as Clara, 10 years? Even before that, she has always been quite the independent girl.
There’s little experience to be had with maternal love when your mother was away most of the time and didn’t know to care the rest of it.
Their mother was - is gentle. It’s just… hair raising, the sort of attention she affords Ayaka.
Eerier, the non-attention she pays to Ann. A peripheral sort of consideration, ignoring but not really.
Ayaka can’t tell if it’s real or if she’s hallucinating.
“Mother?” She asks, as her mother gently combs her hair.
The clothes are more luxurious than she has ever had, soft on her skin, almost silk like. Colorful, a sort of blue she can’t name but has always preferred, with little patterns.
“Yes, child?” Her mother answers with a hum in her voice. It rings in her ears, making Ayaka relax.
She can’t help her instinctive laxness, the way her muscles refuse to tense, the way her mind refuses to even entertain the possibilities of hurting the woman that brought her to life.
Ayaka is limp in this woman’s hands and she knows it.
What’s more though? Her scent. Her mother’s scent is a pleasant, floral thing that she knows but can’t name, sweet and gentle. It makes her feel impossibly safe.
The chakra. Full of love, a feeling that had Ayaka drunk off her head. It’s hard to describe, but she can’t help but revel in it.
Their mother’s chakra is much more readable than Ann’s.
“Why me?” She needs to know though. “Why just me?”
Ayaka and Ann are twins. They aren’t supposed to be separated. Yet here their mother is, changing the status quo. A daughter and an apprentice.
Their mother remains quiet for a while, before she speaks, with nary a waver in her voice.
That’s still some emotions. What, she has no clue. It’s twisting inside her heart, almost suffocating. Ayaka can feel it even here.
“Trust me, darling, when I say I wish only the best for you.”
There. Again.
Mother’s ignoring Ann-nee.
“What about nee-sama?” She insists. Her mind is lax, but she can fight against instinct. This is important. Don’t let the warmth distract you.
“What about her?” Ayaka can hear a slight tremor, almost undetectable in her mother’s voice. Her chakra swirls in a mess of feeling, circling the room.
It hurts to breath.
“She’s my sister. Isn’t it enough?” She’s your child too.
Ayaka wants to say, to scream. But they had an agreement. They would hide, hide the fact they are twins.
They aren’t supposed to know this is their mother. They must hide, hide themselves.
Does their mother know it was them she gave birth to?
Unknown.
Twins in this world are rare. It isn't a good omen for twins to exist.
One will consume the other. One thrives, then the other will fall and vice versa.
That is, in death. But before? Twins are strong. They bounce off one another, strength and weakness. Especially those as close as the two of them are.
They learn and grow with one another, never too far away from their other half. Their souls are connected - people say it’s two half of the same coin, a singular soul split in half.
Ayaka and Ann had read about it, eager to learn about themselves. What is this world’s view on twins? What would people see them as?
Twins are rare, after all.
The truth is brutal. Twins are only the privilege of the rich-it’s hard to care for two babies at once, not to mention the fact that young twins are so much more fragile than normal babies. They die young. Too young.
Sometimes, the mother has to make a choice.
“Ann-nee is my sister.” Ayaka repeats. “I won’t leave her behind.”
Ann is pack. She is family.
They are twins.
Ayaka won’t let their mother choose.
Their mother stays silent as she finishes with Ayaka’s hair. It’s carefully detangled, the waves settling behind her back.
“I know, dear.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to Ayaka’s head, gentle and so damningly breathtaking. It warms her heart in a mix of instinct and maternal love.
The topic doesn’t get continued-Ann has come back from her bathing.
Ayaka easily smiles to welcome her back.
Ann doesn’t hesitate to smile at her reassuringly.
Ah.
How much has Ann heard, Ayaka wonders.
She is always like that.
Overhearing little things that change everything.
Will she share it with me this time?
Probably not.
Mother is kind to them.
“Kind”.
In which their mother is as much an enigma as ever.
Mother is busy-she’s always busy with something or another, but she’ll take the time to smile at Ayaka and pat her head and ask about how she was feeling.
At the same time, she ignores Ann.
They have as much free time as ever, their mother never forcing them to do anything but keeping their own room clean.
The mornings are now for classes, taught by a lady or another. They are pretty and wise, expecting much from the sisters.
Of course, they never really showed all their prowess, choosing to hide their edge, blunting their bite. Their mother seems to know.
There’s a hint of disappointment in her chakra when the ladies praise them as intelligent and smart and sharp minded, but also some pride.
Their mother knows too much, Ayaka can’t help but think.
She provides as much as she can, giving them freedom to do what they want, giving them resources so they can succeed, but never answering their questions.
She evades them, deflecting their inquiries and attracting their attention elsewhere, while she watches them.
There’s something-a test?
A test of some kind.
“You know something, nee-sama.” Ayaka says, her legs swinging from her perch on a tree branch. The wind is pleasant this afternoon.
“Hm?” A prompt. Ann is learning from their mother.
Hide, hide, hide. Speak no evil, hear no evil.
“You know something.” Ayaka repeats. “Mother is hiding something and you know it.”
Ann knows. She always does.
She’s sharp in a way Ayaka can never be, always watching, seeing.
Ayaka can hardly care for things outside her immediate person.
Ann closes her book and looks up. Her eyes are as green as ever.
“I do.” She admits. “But I’m not telling.”
Ayaka huffs.
She drops down from the branch, looming over Ann, pouting.
“Why not? Won’t you teach me?”
Ann just smiles, and flicks her forehead. “Not this one, Ayaka.”
“Ayaka has to find this one herself. Then I’ll teach you the rest.”
A reassurance.
A distraction.
Well, it’s working.
“Then you’ll tell me?”
“Then I’ll tell you.”
It’s a promise then.
It’s… frankly absurd that it took Ayaka this long to start looking.
There’s a pattern. To everything, really.
Furou. 不老. Eternal youth.
Shiku. 死苦. The inevitability of death.
Those two letters are discreetly put… everywhere, really.
In the one hallway they are permitted to move about, anyway.
Ayaka doesn’t doubt there’s secrets to this place-Of course there is, have you seen her mother? That woman is shrouded in secret.
There’s something to the two words.
There’s many things to consider, but these two. These two are essential, Ayaka can tell. She can feel it.
Too many patterns-words and letters and sentences not quite repeating but keep reappearing.
It’s hidden in the flowers-something Ayaka has taken to reading up on.
It’s not easy to see.
Anemone.
Lily of the valley.
Clamone.
All flowers associated with eternal something. Love, devotion, remembrance.
They are presented in every bouquet around this place.
There’s something about them.
She can see the ladies staring at them with pity.
What is there to pity them, Ayaka would think.
They have it all. A new mother, a better family life, better financial situation. Their mother let them have their freedom, let them be themselves regardless. They’re learning everyday, growing into themselves.
What is there to pity?
Something.
There’s something.
You need to really look to see-otherwise you’re stuck being on the outer shell.
Ann has seen it-she has already passed whatever test was set.
Ayaka wants-needs to do the same. She will not let another leave her in the dust.
What is it?
Once upon a time, there was an organization called Jinja.
They were the gods’ representative on land, responsible for the upkeep of the many temples dotting the Elemental Continent.
They are respected across the lands, known for their elite force worthy members - every Jinja member is a force unto themselves, in whatever fields they decide to pursue.
Few of them were shinobi-while they utilized chakra, it was hardly jutsu that got them such a reputation.
They refined chakra control to such an extent that none can quite replicate. Their information network was unprecedented back in the day. They were inventors, crafters, informants, healers, artisans,... everything. Jinja’s people were, without a doubt, strong.
But it was not from there that Jinja gained their reputation.
Jinja’s speciality was Miko, whose main strength came from their devotion to divinity. They were what gave Jinja its namesake, as well as its respect.
Back in the day, impurities roamed the land. They were the bane of everything-the land it crossed yielded no crop, the water it passed no longer drinkable. The impurities spreaded sickness that clung to people’s skin and bone, imbued into their lungs, clutched at their heart.
The impurities were disasters.
In those days, only the Jinja could purify them-through the Miko.
It was unknown of the process with which they used to seal away the impurities, only to be seen in certain areas, and even then rarely. There were still times when impurities’ effects touched others-it was not entirely fault-proof.
But even with just that, the Jinja was respected like no other. The Daimyo paid them annual donations of magnanimous proportion, and nobility often sent for them on special occasions.
Soon, however, when the shinobi villages were built, Jinja faded into obscurity...
There’s nothing to pursue-there’s few clues to even string together.
But if you pay attention, close attention, you can sometimes hear the ladies mention a name.
Furoushiku.
Ayaka doesn’t know how it is written, or which signs it uses.
But all things considered, it’s probably the two that are constantly repeated everywhere.
Ha.
How troublesome.
“Ne, ne, Anka.” Ayaka sighs, lying back on the hill.
The sisters have the afternoon free-of course they’ll find Anka at this time.
“Hm?” Anka doesn’t even open her eyes, simply making an inquiring noise at the back of her throat. It’s a lazy day for them all. Anka’s training left her exhausted.
“If I have a puzzle…” Ayaka starts, eyes already going unfocused. Her mind is too jumbled to make an effort. “Like, a really confusing puzzle, with too little hints and no direction. How should I solve it?”
Too little clue, too little direction, no goal to speak of.
It’s only a feeling that there’s something.
Only a nudge.
Anka sits up, stretching slightly. “Well, I don’t know. How do you know there’s a puzzle in the first place?”
Ayaka follows, springing up to sit. “A feeling. Then nee-sama confirms it.”
Anka tilts her head slightly, confused. “How come Kochou doesn’t help you solve it?”
“She said it’s something I must do myself.” Ayaka sighs, tugging the strawhat downward.
It’s a pretty sister’s. Kyoko-nee's. She was afraid Ayaka’s skin would be tanned in this weather, and so gave her it. Too big for her. It keeps slipping off.
Anka cocks her head, eyebrow lifted. “Then that’s the answer. Something you can do, can see. Kochou wouldn’t leave you hanging.”
“You have such faith in me.” Ann drawls from her perch on a low hanging branch. Anka helped her get up there. “I like mysteries as much as the next person.”
“Which means very little, because I don’t like mysteries that much.” Anka replies, falling back to the grass. “And neither does Hana, from the look of it.”
“Hm~.”
… nee-sama. You don’t need to do mental attacks, you know?
The little hum has too much satire in it.
Ayaka’s health drops by 10!
“But really, nee-sama. No hints at all?” Ayaka pleads, bringing out her puppy dog eyes. Her lower lips jut out just that little bit, quivering.
Ayaka uses Adorableness!
It was Ineffective!
“No.” Ann flips the page, answering easily. “Hana needs to learn to think.”
Her teasing gets Ayaka to pout even harder.
“Alright, alright. I’ll find a way, dattebana!” Ayaka shouts, standing up with her hands on her hips.
She looks cute. Fierce.
In her eyes is determination.
Do you know how important goals are to humans?
Without a set goal, you get lost on the road of life: going through the motions but not finding anything.
You keep going and going and going-
but it never ends.
A goal signals an end.
A harsh wind blows by.
“Ah!” Her strawhat!
Ayaka jumps but can’t actually grasp the floating hat.
Then as suddenly as ever, Anka is there.
Straight back.
Flowing wavy hair, gathered into a ponytail.
Broad shoulder.
Strong arms.
Anka looks beautiful there.
A slight jump, and she manages to catch the hat before it begins to descend to the water.
The sunlight falls just right on her.
Dark dark eyes seem almost brown under the sun.
Anka is beautiful.
“Here.” Walking back, Anka pushes the strawhat back on her head. “Be careful.”
“Teach me.” Ayaka shakily exhales, eyes wide. “Teach me, Anka!” Her hands clutching at Anka’s wrist.
What, exactly, did Ayaka want to be taught again?
Does it matter?
Such a beautiful, beautiful gem.
Anyone would want such a brilliant piece in their hand.
Anka blinks.
She feels rather like an owl, somehow.
“Teach you… water walking?” She asks, almost confused.
“Water walking?” Ayaka repeats, racking her brain. Anka did walk on water to retrieve her hat-it floated out to above the river.
Now that her mind is a bit clearer, a bit more cohesive, well, Ayaka isn’t going to refuse such an offer.
She has always loved water.
“Um! Teach me, Anka.”
Ayaka can’t see it herself, but her smile is just that hint of sharpness, her eyes just wide enough to look crazy.
Anka stills for a moment, before she smiles in return. A soft, self-satisfied smile.
“Of course, Hana.”
Uchiha loves to see people grow into themselves.
It’s a beautiful, beautiful process, seeing the dull edge being sharpened, burdens being discarded, rust being shed.
Seeing a harmless tool transforms into a lethal, dangerous weapon.
What is more pleasurable than being able to participate in that process themselves?
Hana has potential, Kanae knows.
But in that moment, that singular smile, she realizes she had been underestimating her after all.
Hana is dangerous, even unpolished.
But even more, her ambition makes her something worth noticing, worth investing.
Not violent enough yet, not sharp enough yet, but even an axe, even blunt, can cause damage.
Hana is too elegant to be an axe.
But the principle applies all the same. She has potential, so much potential.
Kanae can feel her blood warming, the rush of excitement running up her spine. Kanae can teach her. Teach her everything she needs to be lethal, to be strong.
Teach her to be unwavering.
Something is watching.
Kanae’s body doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch. She shows no signs of fear. Her eyes flicker upward, meeting with Kochou’s.
And-
Oh.
Hana and Kochou is a set. You can never forget that.
A small smile hangs on her lips, but the darkness around her is ominous. Her eyes downcasted to stare into Kanae’s.
Kanae might start to have nightmares about such an image.
Kochou, shrouded in the shade, her eyes almost glowing, and even without knowing, she is gorgeous. Devastatingly so.
But it excites her so, god.
Kochou, overlooked but not, hidden but not.
A contradiction in person.
Kanae is lucky she got to see so much.
Hana is an unpolished spear, poised, dangerous, but not yet deadly.
Kochou? She can’t even begin to fathom what she would be.
Almost-
Almost like a scythe. Hanging by her neck, ready to reap her soul in a single moment.
One wrong move.
Just one wrong move.
And her head will fall.
The two sisters are something of a god-sent boon, Kanae is sure, for Uchiha. A few more years, and they will have boys hanging off the edge of their clothing.
A few more years, they would be devastating, and Kanae would be the one to make them so.
Okay. So maybe not nightmare.
She can't help but correct in her head.
Definitely not nightmares.