Wake

“Just because you know someone your whole life doesn’t mean you know them.

That was one of my main problems in understanding my first team. I thought that there was nothing more to learn about them. Watching someone grow into the person they were meant to be doesn’t equate to knowing their vices, their love and their hurt. We knew each other, but I don’t think any of us truly knew one another. There were things that we all hid from the world, things that nobody would ever see unless they looked for them.

Suddenly, my entire life revolved around looking. I needed to find those dark spaces, only whispered in the dead of night when no one else could hear. I needed to know motives, what made someone tick, why they made the choices they did and try to predict their next move. I needed to know the exact words to say to break someone. To lift them up. To make them think. To make them fall in love, or out of it.

A smile, a tenderness only expressed in private, a hand on your shoulder, the first gasped breath after-. What love looks like when it’s real. What it looks like when it’s not. The tremble in someone’s hands when they hold a kunai too tightly. The set of someone’s shoulders as they prepare themselves for a fight. The resignation that comes before murder. The steady drop as exhaustion sets in afterwards. I saw everything. Everyone. It’s not like I can just turn off the lessons learned. My friends, comrades, people I didn’t know and people I needed to know, quickly.

I bore witness to things no one wants to see or let be seen. And then I used it against them.

A friend once told me that knowledge is power. Sometimes, I think, it’s better to remain ignorant.

Sometimes, I think, this is me laid bare. Me, ugly. Me, beautiful. Me, without the pretenses. Me, but all my parts are screwed on backwards. Me with my hands the wrong way. Me, with my lies out in the open. Did you know that my body isn’t my own anymore? I’m learning how not to let this swallow me whole. I’m learning how to turn this ugly, festering wound into a weapon.

Do you know me anymore?

This isn’t the kind of story where the princess wins all her fights with love and bravery, where a hero comes and slays the dragon. This is the kind of story where the princess has been the dragon the whole time. A chest full of fire, belly full of rot, smile made of nothing but sharp edges and teeth.

Do you see me?


This isn’t the kind of story where the princess wins. This isn’t the story where the hero slays the dragon and everyone lives happily ever after. This isn’t a story. Nobody wins.

I see you.

-

You would be disappointed in me if you looked, dad.

Sometimes, I wish you would.”

- ENTRY 005, Bat

 一

 There were few clouds in the sky; a breeze gently brushing past the village and its inhabitants. Any other day, this would bring great comfort to the young blonde currently walking through her village’s streets. There was an air of calm about her that she tried to let seep into her bones. She would need this to feel real, after all, if she wanted to survive. Civilians were more perceptive than most shinobi gave them credit for, but none of them gave notice to the (barely) kunoichi as she silently passed.

 (“Aren’t you a little young?”

Yes. The blunt honesty remained unsaid, but it didn’t need to be vocalized for the woman called Hawk. The kunoichi was experienced enough to see the girl’s lack of it.)

The upper portion of Yamanaka Ino’s left arm itched. It felt hot and was as painful as a bad bug bite, but the skin was mostly clear when she checked. The tattoo, Ino learned during the process of receiving it, was a seal that would allow her to quickly and painlessly end her life. If she completed a set of hand signs- memorized, shortened, unfortunately mastered- and then activated it, she would die. As simple as that, as if nothing up until that point meant anything at all.

(“Some prefer it to…” Hawk paused before dipping her brush in ink. “Well, y’know. Others hold out for days, months. Konoha rarely leaves a shinobi behind, but… It’s a mercy. Most villages have a way to die if they’re ever caught. Kiri has poison drilled into a hole in their teeth. A flick of the tongue is all it takes. Kumo, a technique that stops the flow of chakra to the heart and brain. No hand signs. Taki nin explode. For such a small village, they have the most gruesome way to go. It at least allows them to take out whoever is near.

“Doesn’t work for Konoha, y’know. Too many variables, and we’re almost always in teams. Exploding would only hurt the village more than serve it. Be careful if you’re ever caught in a skirmish with them. Iwa… I’ve fought enough Iwa nin to know that those bastards would rather endure. They’re slippery enough that I think they can get away with it.”

The woman’s reserved aura shifted and Ino wondered if she fought in the war; there was a dark amusement in the lining of her shoulders. “At least, they were slippery when the Yondaime wasn’t slaughtering them like they were nothing.”)

Ino kept this memory at the back of her mind- in a box where it belonged- as she stepped into her home. She immediately searched for the familiar presence of her dad. It was a rare moment of peace within their household since the attack. Inoichi had been enjoying his position as clan head before then and the exhaustion was clear when he returned to active duty.

He didn’t notice her approach until she was standing just out of arm’s reach and jerked backwards, muscles tensing. He had a weapon in his hand quicker than Ino could blink, a kunai that he pointed towards her. It took two heartbeats for her dad to notice she wasn’t an intruder, or a memory.

PTSD was vaguely familiar to her. Her mom suffered from it, though Ino never had to deal with it alone. Still. It gave her enough information to know how to act around someone with it. Maybe not heal, never heal; Ino wasn’t even close to understanding what could make strong people break enough to suffer flashbacks and moments of disorientation.

Ino’s mother used to scream and fight. Her father created a protective shell in which he could withdraw.

Until his return to active duty, Ino had never successfully snuck up on him. He was always aware and more observant than he let on. Inoichi was and would always be a formidable shinobi, and even at his age he was in good condition. No, physical exhaustion was unlikely and the blue tint beneath his eyes spoke of sleepless nights. The attacks only happened recently.

Inoichi was a gentle man. His hands were calloused, but when he held her Ino felt like nothing bad would ever happen. He had strong arms and a heart full of love for the world, for her.

“You okay?” She asked as he dropped the weapon, not paying mind to the way his arms trembled before they fell back to his sides. Ino stepped into his personal space to pick up the kunai, knowing that this nonchalance was all the comfort he would allow her to offer him. That, in time, the flashbacks would stop and he would go back to her dorky dad that she loved so much sometimes it hurt. (If she allowed herself to think about it, she felt the same for her teammates. They were family now, too. They would always be family.)

“Aa.” His chest sank when he breathed out. Ino carefully did not watch as life placed yet another weight on his shoulders. She wondered how he would feel if he knew the decision she just made; if she would look like him someday.

“You changed clothes?” Inoichi asked, angling his body away from the flowers to fully face his daughter. Ino grinned, a quick and mischievous thing that always managed to get her out of trouble. She wasn’t in trouble. Calm down, she told herself. This isn’t a fight yet.

She stretched her smile into something more genuine and said, “Yeah. Thought it was time for a change. Do you like it?”

The dark blue shirt covered down to her elbows but still showed off her midriff. She got rid of the cuffs; too much cloth. Her skirt was black and came to a stop five inches above her knees. It had a slit on both sides to show off the blue shorts underneath.

It wasn’t too different, she thought. Too much of a change would make someone suspicious, and her dad was the sort of person to notice small things like that.

The work that her dad did was not public knowledge. Some people had an idea of what it was, but it was a secret for a reason. Ino barely knew anything, only what she caught others saying and her knowledge of the men who sometimes visited.

Torture & Interrogation.

It was in the name. Ino could draw her own conclusions on her dad’s part within the unit. Inoichi was incredibly skilled with drawing out information that people didn’t want to give. (This trait he shared with her. Unintentionally, yes, but it was too late to take it back.) He could forcefully enter someone’s mind. If done by someone unexperienced, or without care, it could completely break the person. (This was a burden he would not share with her, not ever.)

That, Ino thought, was what made him an asset to T&I.

“Aa,” Inoichi said, a slow smile returning the light to his eyes. “What brought that on?”

Like any teen, Ino rolled her eyes and stepped further into his personal space, finally comfortable enough to nudge him with her shoulder. He ruffled her hair. “Ugh, that outfit was so last year.

“Besides, I have a mission coming up. To Kusa this time, diplomatic stuff with a bunch of boring chunin,” Ino was not careful in the way she said this. If she was hesitant, it would garner more attention than a diplomatic mission warranted.

Ino set her shoulders and prepared herself to lie to a man who spent most of his career spotting them, and readied herself to deflect his questions in case he saw through it all.

(She was sick at herself. Guilt was a monster clawing at her ribcage, trying to break free. She buried it down.)

“Oh?” He was surprised, a little interested. “I thought you weren’t promoted?”

“No,” Ino agreed. “But right now, my sensei isn’t around. And since Shika’s promotion, I haven’t seen him or Chouji in weeks. I can’t just wait around for those two lazy bones to get it together! I put in for a mission this morning. I thought they’d give me construction duty, a few D-ranks or something to help, but yeah. They wanted me for this. I’m good with people. Apparently.”

Her dad laughed from his chest, a light and peaceful sound that made Ino want to puke. Maybe someday she could tell him. Maybe when he was better, and she could handle it.

(Ino spent her entire childhood knowing that her dad was her hero and she wanted to be just like him.

“Just a C-rank, dad. I’ll be home before you know it. Especially without that lazy nerd! How did he even make chunin before me? I think the last time he ran he put himself into a coma out of self-preservation. Ugh!”

“Let Chouji know for me? And make sure Shikamaru doesn’t corrupt him! I don’t want to come home and see them falling behind.” A laugh, boisterous and fake. Ino hopes her dad doesn’t notice. “I’m going on more serious missions now. It’s gonna take them forever to catch up.”

“Love you too. Now let go, you smell like dirt and sweat.” Ino held on just a little tighter, despite her words. Her dad never minded her clinginess.

Maybe there was no such thing as heroes. Maybe there was only people and the roles placed on them by others in their need for reassurance. For someone to make the hard choices so they didn’t have to.)

一

 “I wouldn’t ask you this if there was anyone else,” The blonde woman said, leaning forward on the desk she sat behind. Her hands were clasped in front of her.

“But I’m not… I’m not even a chunin yet!” Ino couldn’t keep the sound of protest from her voice. The office she stood in was wide and empty, and it was obvious Tsunade-sama had not yet made it her own.

There was still a small pang of hurt in her chest, the chime of a bell that sent sadness through her blood, by being in that office. She never loved the Hokage. She never truly knew the man, but he was a pillar of strength. He was the figurehead of the village, and someone whose presence comforted Ino.

Tsunade-sama was respectable, arguably the strongest kunoichi born from Konoha, but she was not the Sandaime.

“You’re not,” The Hokage agreed. “And you do have a choice. If you say no, this conversation never happened. However, your village needs you, Yamanaka Ino. She needs all of the shinobi she can spare.”

Ino’s eyes were wide. Her hands were shaking, and she had always prided herself on the ability to remain mostly calm in intense situations. Loud, yes, but calm. It was why she got along so well with her genin team. Chouji and Shikamaru were quiet in their strength. At that moment, however, she was far from calm.

Konoha had just begun rebuilding. Asuma-sensei was on missions that he never spoke of, only returning for short times before leaving again. Her own father was back on the roster, though doing what Ino wasn’t sure. As a genin, there was only so much they would tell her. Regarding their work for the village, that meant there was nothing they could say to her.

If she accepted this… then that meant there would be nothing to say to them, either. There was a mess of anxiety between her shoulder blades.

“Okay,” Ino said quietly, bowing just enough to be polite to the village leader. “I am honored.” It was uncomfortable, and more than uncharacteristic, but Ino knew when to change. She knew how to be quiet; when and how to be someone else. Ino didn’t think that the Hokage would have chosen her otherwise.

Would you kill for your village? Ino thought as the Hokage silently assessed her. Would you die for it?

Ino wanted to say no.

“We’re not going to throw you out into the field,” Tsunade said, unclasping her hands to gather a stack of papers. Her sharp eyes went over them as she spoke. “Your team wouldn’t trust you, and I don’t want to send you into any situations you’re not prepared for.” I don’t want to send you to your death went unsaid. Ino heard it anyway.

“Ideally, you won’t be involved in any serious fights. You’re a wet-behind-the-ears baby to anyone with even a year’s experience. I just need you to be able to complete the mission, follow orders, and to not freeze up on the field.” Tsunade grimaced before signing her name at the bottom. The pen pressed down hard into the paper. It left splotches of ink behind.

“What you need to work on is speed and stamina. The first missions you take aren’t going to be the ones you’re needed for, but they will help you gain more experience and help you and your team get to know each other. They’re going to rely on you a lot less than you them, but a chain is only as strong as its weakest link.”

“Why me?” Ino asked. “Why not… Sakura’s smarter. Hinata’s faster. Ever since we graduated, they’ve been getting stronger and I’m still-“ Ino cut herself off, blocked out the ugly insecurity that always built when faced with someone better, and raised her eyes to Tsunade once more. The genin hadn’t even realized she looked down and away.

“There’s a severe lack of kunoichi in ANBU. I think you may have noticed, but every year there are less kunoichi being sent out into the field. Most retire when they have children,” Tsunade explained. “There are some missions that require a kunoichi with the skills to effectively diffuse or manipulate a situation to their liking. I think you’re already well on your way to learning. You’re quick on the uptake.

“As for my other options… There are 28 active chunin who are kunoichi in Konoha. With my return, ten of them showed an interest in healing. Two help the academy. Three work in administration. The rest work long term border missions or want to become diplomats.

“There are four kunoichi who are special jounin. Three active jounin and the rest, either career genin or retired. Two of those active jounin are not suited for manipulation. The other lacks the ability to be subtle. One of your classmates aspires to study medicine under my tutelage. The other has eyes on all her movements. A secret would not remain a secret for long within the Hyuuga clan and I require discretion.

“Your clan specializes in black ops, did you know?” Tsunade asked as if she was not expecting an answer. Ino did not know that about her people; she would eventually lead them and her father never mentioned anything about their specialties. “Your clan’s teachings are especially effective with infiltration and assassination. Despite appearances, the ease with which you blend into a crowd is unparalleled.

“That, Yamanaka, is why I’m choosing you.”

Ino nodded and stood silent as Tsunade went over details of the next three weeks of Ino’s life. That assessment was discomforting. The Hokage made it no secret that, had anyone else been capable, Ino would be just another genin helping pick up debris and lift planks of wood for civilians. It was helpful and Ino enjoyed talking with the people who were still so alive despite the losses suffered.

Tsunade-sama had no other choice but to work with her. The attack shook the village and Ino knew that all her resources were going towards reinforcing Konoha’s walls so that not even the strongest woman in the world could break them.

Konoha would not falter in the face of adversity. Ino would be the same.

 一

 ANBU headquarters was a plain, unassuming building hidden behind thick trees. It was not tall but upon entering, Ino realized that it didn’t need to be. There were many floors below her, each private and filled with closed doors. It was one of these- 0301- that she currently resided in.

It was a small one-room apartment stocked with the bare minimum needed to clean up after a mission, or rest in private. There was a sink and a stove with no oven across from the small, uncomfortable bed.  Plain brown cabinets above that. A bathroom and a closet were adjacent to each other, a thin bit of wall between two doors, and Ino took a quick peak in both. The closet was small with two cubbies inside, one on top of the other. A basic med kit and bandages were inside.

Back in her small room, there was no window.

Ino undressed quickly. It always made her skin crawl to be so exposed outside of her home. Her chest was bound with still clumsy hands. It had only been a few months since she started finally becoming a woman. (She never felt more like a little girl as she did in that room.)

It was easy enough, afterwards, to dress herself. Underneath an armored gray vest, she wore a black, sleeveless top that stretched above her neck to cover the lower half of her face. Standard dark gray pants tucked underneath black sandals. On her arms (they were so small) were tight-fitting gloves that covered up to just below her tattoo.

(It was a reminder that she couldn’t back out now. She would go through with this and succeed, or die trying.)

All that was left was her mask. Bat’s mask.  They couldn’t even give her a pretty name.

The white mask was decorated with four thick, black lines that were mirrored, each underneath holes for her eyes. The ‘mouth’ of the mask stuck out at a point where a dot represented the nose. At the top there were two ears- just as pointed. A mouth stretched upwards, reminiscent of her childish grin.

It was simple and made of a tough but lightweight material, smooth to the touch. There was an obvious dent on the inside where she could easily slip it over her small nose, and it was shaped just so for some comfort while wearing it. The young girl holding the mask thought it wasn’t suited to her personality at all. But... was that not the point?

Ino stretched the strap around her head as she easily slid her mask on. She hid the it underneath thick blonde hair that fell to her shoulders. Her pony tail was sorely missed, but she was covering three freckles on the back of her neck. A birthmark on her shoulder, covered by scentless foundation. Her shape hid by the slightly baggy clothes. Her hair, short. Down. Unassuming.

The mask was almost immediately frustrating. Ino hated anything blocking her face and the eye holes were almost too small to see out of. After a few minutes she got used to the way her mask blocked her peripherals. She would learn to work with it.

The second she was ready, no sooner or later than that, there was a knock at her door. As if someone had been waiting for her to settle. Ino’s nerves skyrocketed. Was she ready? There was no way to tell. She thought her answer would have been no, but a part of her wanted to be done with all this anxiety already.

After opening the door, Ino was faced with the body of a young man. Or what she thought was a young man. With the mask she couldn’t be sure. He was slender with windswept black hair and the mask he bore had harsh, thick lines and with small black nose. It jutted out around his mouth and had rounded ears at the top. Cute.

Ino was expecting formal. She was expecting the stress of this day, the horrifying realizations made, to be reflected in this intimidating man.

Instead, he blew all her expectations out the water when he lifted two fingers in a lazy salute. “Yo.”

For a moment, Ino was dizzy at the change. It was long enough for him to get close and pat her head condescendingly. Before she could stop it, Ino whispered, “What the fuck?”

“It’s okay, kid, Bear-sama is here,” He soothed, his voice confirming what Ino suspected. “You’re officially part of the coolest team ever! Glad to have you, Bat.”