Chapter 14
Ok, so this took a while. I hope the next one will come easier. But thank you all very much for your reviews – they always motivate me a lot:)
“Oh for fuck’s sake.”
In the mirror Hana’s cheshire grin stretches from ear to ear above Hisana’s shoulder. The Uchiha glares at her.
“Don’t mind me,” the Inuzuka purrs. “I’m just here for the scent cover.” She shakes a small glass phial at Hisana, the look of glee on her face very reminiscent of her younger brother.
“Stop watching,” Hisana gripes, fiddling with her colored contacts. Not for the first time that day she curses Sasuke’s genius. A regular genjutsu would have sufficed to conceal her from every normal, run-in-the-mill genin, but since her cousin, as the only other Sharingan user apart from Kakashi, and stupid Kiba are part of the Exam, Hisana has to actually go all out and disguise herself.
She blinks her eyes at the mirror, feeling the contacts swim uncomfortably. They’re black, just like her own eyes, but they’ll hopefully dim her Sharingan into a more inconspicuous muddy brown. Next to her a still very miffed Shizuha is sorting out an generic genin outfit for her, lips pursed primly. Hisana rubs at her eyes, trying not to feel exasperated. The Aburame has never been angry with her before. It’s novel and entirely unappreciated experience, mainly because Shizuha appears to be the type to hold a grudge.
“Shizurin,” she whines, “my eyes itch.”
There’s a moment of hesitation before the other girl turns back to her task, sewing the Ame symbol onto the sleeve of Hisana’s new shirt. Hisana winces. Nobody can ignore you quite as aggressively as an Aburame can. In the past four hours she has apologized just as many times and has been forgiven just a bit more with each attempt. It looks as if she still has some groveling to do. Hana watches them with interest for a moment before tugging at Hisana’s sleeve. “Enough of that already. Get naked, I don’t have all day.” Hisana throws her faux scandalized look.
“I’ll have you know, I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Yes,” the Inuzuka agrees, mildly amused, “what was I thinking. If you want dinner first … I got dog biscuits in my pocket somewhere. Now hurry up before Ibiki busts in here.” The older girl impatiently watches her strip and rub herself down with a scent blocker before wetting a cotton ball and strategically dabbing the false scent onto her skin. It’s a bit weird to have the other girl prodding at her armpits with a cotton swab, but they both try to put on a professional face, even while Hisana keeps twitching reflexively. Another awkward moment ensues when Hana hands her the small bottle and a washcloth. “For … downstairs. Apply liberally.” Across the room Shizuha coughs conspicuously.
“This is super invasive and I suddenly get why nobody wants to work in Infiltration,” Hisana muses out loud.
“Nobody wants to work in Infiltration because Nara Shikaji is a despot,” the Aburame informs her wryly, tugging Hisana’s hair into a neat, flat braid while the Uchiha throws the washcloth into the laundry bin. Hana makes an agreeable noise.
“I wouldn’t work for him if they paid me to. Which they would – generously, last I heard. Especially after someone apparently quit by throwing their chair at him.”
“So that’s the reason why nobody puts a Nara into positions of power,” Hisana chortles, remembering Shiki’s tyrannical tendencies. “Who would have thought.”
In the end Hisana barely recognizes herself. The girl in the mirror is her size and built, but Hana stuffed her bra very generously and dabbed some dark lipstick onto her while Shizuha wrestled her hair under a short, brown wig. The outfit is just conservative enough to make her look uninteresting while still being distinctly foreign.
“All right, … ‘Rie-chan’. I doubt you’ll be around long enough to need the name, but better safe than sorry, I guess.” Hana takes one last sniff of Hisana before nodding in satisfaction. The only one able to look under her disguise now might be Neji or Hinata, but they might still put the stuffed bra down to vanity, and it’s not unusual for a ninja to wear a wig if their specialty is infiltration. She just wishes her hair would take dyes.
Her ‘team’ consists of Shizuha herself, wrapped in a poncho and cowl, and an older boy called Riku, who is apparently one of Hana’s former teammates. Hisana thinks he’ll have a hard time passing himself off as the right age, since even she and Shizuha are already a little older than many others, but then Hana forcefully shaves off his scruffy stubble and he promptly looks about five years younger.
“Thanks a lot,” he grouches, rubbing his chin where the Inuzuka gripped him none too gently. “Your bedside manner is still atrocious I see.”
“That’s because I’m still not a doctor, asshole.”
While certainly odd each in their own way, Hisana is pleased that they make somewhat of a congruous picture.
They wait for no more than half an hour to make their way to the examination room. There are already a few teams gathered; not enough to make them the strange latecomers, but enough as not to make them look like dangerous competition. One by one the teams file in after them. Across the room team 8 huddles into a corner, Hinata shielded from their curious competitors by her teammates. Team 10 gets dragged right into the thick of things by Ino, who seems to want to look at everyone at once. Neji and Tenten walk right past her without sparing any of them a look. And then finally team 7 arrives trailing behind the older genin with sour looks.
Sakura looks distinctively weirded out and Hisana muffles a badly timed laugh. Some things never change, she thinks wistfully, watching as Lee turns around to throw the kunoichi one last kiss. Sakura shivers uncomfortably. Just to be certain Hisana steps up to Riku, hiding herself behind his broad frame when Sasuke looks their way. She’s rather confident in their disguises – few genin are actually observant enough to even see through a bit of makeup, much less an entire disguise – but Sasuke has surprised her before.
As the room fills up it gets progressively harder to actually spot anyone. The Suna siblings must be somewhere among the writhing, sweaty mass of genin, but Hisana isn’t too motivated to seek out Gaara’s red hair in the crowd. She catches a glimpse of white hair heading towards team 7 and remembers with a start that Kabuto has a role to play right here. “If you keep watching them they’ll catch you for real,” Riku warns her, steering Hisana away from her cousin’s team and towards the front of the room. She goes without protest; there’s no reason to sound the alarm yet – she doesn’t actually have any proof that Sound is up to no good, much less that a Konoha shinobi would have anything to do with it.
A burst of smoke announces Ibiki’s arrival. He bellows at the irritable Oto ninja, his voice making even the contestants in the back rows wince. The front row squirms, apparently even more uncomfortable at the sinister look on his face. Her team parts ways when they are sent to their seats. Hisana slides onto a chair in the very back, Sharingan flaring to live under her contacts. She blinks, slightly irritated as they start swimming again, aggravated by her chakra.
It’s weird to watch so many people with her advanced vision instead of just one or two. Every little movement catches her eye; perfect for catching suspicious behavior, but sure to give her a headache in no time flat.
Gaara’s blood red hair is like a beacon even among the more outrageous colorings of the contestants. Sada, she thinks, distantly remembering Suna’s red-headed clan of Doton users. Could it really be? Even from three rows away she can feel the low current of killing intent that he constantly seems to emit and it settles like a stone in her stomach. It’s still vividly familiar but doesn’t produce the expected panic. Maybe because he hasn’t seen her yet, she muses, for a moment forgetting to keep an eye out for anything else. She sweeps her eyes over the crowd while scribbling down a few answers absentmindedly.
At the very front Kankurou struggles with his questions, his head twitching right until one of the proctors marches past him and he straightens up considerably. Not too far away Temari’s blonde head is bowed over her sheet, hand working furiously. Reassured, Hisana’s gaze returns to the youngest sibling. His seat neighbors, a Kusa kunoichi and a Kumo shinobi, have started to lean away from him, even though the red-head hasn’t given a single outward sign of hostility. A lot of them are probably not yet familiar with killing intent. She watches a drop of sweat trail down the girl’s neck before she rubs it away furiously; it’s possible that she doesn’t even know why she’s so afraid.
Her seat neighbor leans over to peek at her test paper rather artlessly; she glares at him. It’s good to know, Hisana thinks as he stiffens and looks away, that the evil look works even without the Sharingan and the Uchiha name behind it. Not a second later a kunai thinks down on the boy’s paper. “Get your ass out of here,” Kotetsu sneers at him. “Idiot.” Her entire seating row starts to sweat.
The task is expectedly uneventful. Every once in a while she lets a sneaky genin have a look at her test paper and every now and then she allows one who’s not so sneaky, silently delighting when they get caught. But apart from the expected bustle of the contestants and the occasional scuffle with the proctors, things are quiet. Ibiki is silent and stone-faced at the front, not allowing his eyes to linger on the Suna siblings, consummated professional that he is. He’s memorized every single seat, contestants and proctors alike, and Hisana doesn’t think she in his stead could resist the temptation of seeking feedback. Some things, she muses must come with age rather than rank.
“Ok,” her superior’s voice finally breaks the silence. “We will now come to the tenth question.” The reaction is subtle but immediate; even Gaara tenses in anticipation. Hisana observes the following outrage cautiously. There’s a lot of authentic emotion involved, even among the Suna ninja. She’s not sure what that means, but it’s possible that not all of the genin are actually involved. Or maybe just that they’ll receive their orders later on.
Naruto’s outburst of, “Don’t underestimate me!” garners equally genuine reactions; she watches Neji’s face twist in scorn four seats over, sees Hinata sit up a little straighter, and hears Kiba scoff fondly two rows down. They’re a bunch of puppies yet, but already the chess board is being set up for something bigger.
Hisana makes a show of dithering over her own decision, but obediently sits down again when the mood shifts into something a lot more hopeful. She can’t quite disguise the fond quirk of her mouth when Naruto crosses his arms, obviously pleased with himself, even when she catches Riku’s reproachful eyes. She shrugs at him.
The fact that Anko literally crashes the exam surprises exactly no one who knows her even a little. Ibiki’s pleased expression still flattens in exasperation. ‘Seriously?’ she can see him mouth at her and Anko’s feral grin only stretches wider. She cocks her hips provocatively and throws back her cloak. It billows in an appropriately dramatic fashion.
“I’m the proctor of the second part,” she announces, eyes bright, while Ibiki’s hand hits his forehead with a loud smacking noise.
“Follow me!” she demands, trying to ignore him. Hisana watches the assembled genin go through several interesting expressions while Anko makes a fool out of herself and then starts to gripe about their number and herds them out of the room like sheep to the slaughter.
Her team melts into the gobsmacked crowd unnoticed, even while the rest of the proctors abandon their disguises. “Well, that was boring. I really thought something would be up,” Riku grouches, throwing a bemused look at Naruto’s blank test as they pass by.
“Be glad,” Hisana chides mildly. “I’d rather nothing at all happened.” Her eyes catch on Hyuuga Hinata, jittery but victorious, her own gaze fixed onto Naruto as she staggers from the room. Kiba and Akamaru trail after her, the boy’s expression exasperated. Shino stops to look at them for a moment, eyes dragging over the back of Shizuha’s head, entirely concealed by her cowl, and Hisana’s heart rate rackets up a few notches. But then he too follows his teammate out the door.
Her own Aburame watches the crowd with an absent-minded expression, apparently oblivious to their close brush with her cousin. “Sabaku no Gaara,” she starts, sounding hesitant. “You’ve met him before.” It’s not really a question; Hisana told her friends about Suna, even if she chose her words carefully then. Shizuha has also definitely been briefed, so she must know that Hisana is the cause of their distrust towards Wind.
“Yes,” she says carefully, eyes flickering towards their last team member carefully. But Riku only averts his gaze pointedly and wanders off alongside the other contestants.
“You know how to find me,” he says and disappears neatly into a throng of Kusa ninja.
The two girls stare at each other.
“Be careful,” the Aburame finally says, chewing on her lip uncomfortably. It’s not like her to voice such a clear opinion, especially not when Ibiki so obviously intends otherwise to happen. But Hisana only nods. As long as Suna keeps quiet, she can honestly say that that’s the plan. One of the examiner chuunin brushes by them. She can’t say if it was on purpose to get them moving or not, but it does call their attention back to the rapidly emptying room. Shizuha hooks her arm under Hisana's and they follow the last people out into the hall.