Chapter 9: Probation: Skin Deep & Ladybirds

If the Guest who left the flame would like to avail themselves of a dictionary before they leave such negative comments, said comments might actually hold more weight than an anorexic gnat. An anorexic gnat that was squished into dust beneath my fluffy slippers.

More catharsis in this chapter, because Magic29 requested opening up to Kakashi and Tenzo. YOU ASKED FOR IT!

Warnings for vivisection imagery, Gaslighting(look it up, it's horrifying), Command Responsibilty Guilt, emotional breakdown and some swearing.

Probation Month No.6

Skin Deep

One, two, three, four points and a wobbly line; the scar on my jawbone looks like a lopsided star. The one on my arm looks more like a thin crack in glass because it was properly stitched back together instead of leaving it to heal like the one on my face.

I prefer both of them over the surgical ones. They might be misshapen, but I earned them instead of having them forced on me like the others.

I can tell myself all the sappy shit I like about those lines being a mark of bravery and endurance, but it doesn't change the fact that it's degrading and downright terrifying to be peeled open with clinical precision and be mesmerised by the sight of gloved fingers weighing and measuring your own fucking organs. And then to be healed up and treated like nothing happened. That's the most unnerving bit; it's normal. You start to wonder if you're the one screwed in the head for being freaked out by it.

I retch into the sink, gagging on acid and nightmares. Almost immediately, warm hands steady me, grounding me in the now. They go to check my pulse and temperature, but I brush them away, instead turning around and grabbing onto thick cloth armoured vest and drinking in chakra that feels faintly of ozone and metal. Hound.

Of the two, it had to be him. Why couldn't it be Bear, who would know what I'm talking about?

"It's nothing," I say dryly. "Just a random upwelling of self-loathing colliding with a flashback."

"About Kabuto?" He asks quietly. I can see how he came to that conclusion, but I shake my head as I rest my hand on the scar tissue on my stomach.

"I can work through pain." I mutter. "I could deal with the vivisections. And I suppose it's a good thing I'm so strong. It's just that nobody cared."

I jerk my head up, looking Hound right in the eyeholes of his mask with my best, sunniest smile. And it aches. I feel his heart miss a beat.

"Nothing's wrong!" I chirp, feeling dangerously light-headed off of the chemical crucible of emotions pouring through my head. "Everything's fine, perfectly normal, move along now nothing to see, all's right with the world!" I try to choke down a sob, but it comes out instead as deep groan in my chest.

"It's perfectly normal to be sliced open, don't be silly! After all, we've just healed you right up so no harm done. Thank you Orochimaru-sama, of course it's not brainwashing, we're just making these children realise how grateful they should be to have Orochimaru-sama watching over them. Of course, I'm not upset, look, I'm smiling! Keep smiling, be happy because this is for Orochimaru-sama. Gotta keep smiling and pretending."

Where are these words coming from? Do I even care, for that matter?

My voice is choked to a rasp by now, and I think my knees just gave way, prompting Hound to lower me to the floor. "Fucking eyes," I spit. "All their eyes so relaxed and content I just want to scream at them but I can't do or say anything because gotta pretend. Want to rip them apart because they're doing this to kids and I have to look them in the eyes and tell them to do it. I sent children to fates worse than death and they don't even know what I did to them...'"

I don't know how long we sat there on the bathroom floor; I was in a daze and Hound was probably processing everything I said. Then a clone of him comes in with a glass of water and a jar of baking soda. He knows what he's doing; a little of the alkali powder mixed with the water and the foul taste of bile and stomach acid in my mouth is neutralised. I press back into Hound's chest. "Only my nightmares would be filled with smiling children," I murmur dejectedly.

He sighs and leans forward, resting his chin on top of my head. "I'm...not good with feelings," he said in an undertone. "Inoichi's area of expertise, not mine."

"Don't care. Thanks for...just you being here is helping."

He 'hn's, picking idly at a piece of lint on his gloves. "You use the feel of other people's chakra to refocus, that's why you're so tactile. It was expected that you would hate being touched, considering what was done to you."

I snort softly. "Not...really. I'll still get the urge to bolt if I see anyone pick up a scalpel for a while yet, I'll say that now. But after spending so long in isolation, touched only through rubber gloves and smothered in seals, no touch or chakra means pain; not the other way round. Only people I know and/or who have unique chakra; I won't be hugging random strangers."

"Juugo, Bear, myself," Hound mused. "Makes sense. What about the Uchiha Heir?"

"Lot steadier than Shisui or Sasuke," I explain as best as I can. "Still fire, but more like white-hot coals. Still burning, but intense heat. It's sad, really." Sod it all, might as well drop a few hints. "You get white coals when you starve a fire. More intense than a normal flame, but they eventually break into dust under their own temperature. Suddenly toss more fuel on and it doesn't burn, it explodes. I know what to look for."

"I'll keep an eye on him." Unspoken is the incredulous; 'How the bloody hell has nobody noticed?!'

I heave myself up and stagger through the door into the living room and my stomach sinks when I see the clock. I've missed a whole morning at the Academy. "...shit."

"Pack a bento and go," Hound says. "You'll get there for lunch break. I'll go with you and explain to the sensei that you were unwell."

I nod, and fling some light food into a bento box, pull my moccasins on, grab my school folder and jump out the window, followed by my ANBU.

...Why do I feel like I've forgotten something?

Hound and I part ways at the Academy gates. The second I enter the packed-earth yard which serves as both private training ground and playground, I am accosted by Erumi Nara. She drags me off to the gaggle of misfits and oddballs that are tentatively edging into my friend-zone. Actual friends, I mean. I'm just dreading the day they find out that I've been trying to insert myself into their graces because I want them to like me. Nobody likes being manipulated.

In my past life, I somehow managed to co-found an unofficial lunch group at school, which I named ANAGNA. Art Nerds And General Nutters Association. For all of those people who didn't quite fit into the other cliques that children are wont to form. We weren't Sporty, Intelligent, Pretty or Rowdy. We just got together to draw, make fun of politics and rave over our favourite anime.

This is...much the same. Except that I'm the rookie of the group.

Here, Erumi is the undisputed Big Sis of our group, backed up by a guy the year above us who's name is Torusuke Tonbo. He's following his older brother into an apprenticeship in T&I if he meets the grades. I recognise said brother from canon as one of the sentinels from the first part of Naruto's Chuunin Exam; he wears bandages over his eyes, but has no trouble reading and writing unassisted. Which narrows it down to Hyuuga, Yamanaka, unknown/new bloodline, out-of-this-world sensor or any of the above combined with troll tendencies.

I can feel him glaring at me as Erumi hauls my ass over.

"What in Sage's Name happened to you?" She hisses. I blink. Erumi's not one to buy into the laidback Nara stereotype, but it's not like her to get so worked up like this. I have no idea what she's talking about; I'm fine!

My confused silence must have tipped them off, because Toshiki stepped up. "The scars and seals, genius. What happened? Who did this to you?"

Oh. I forgot to activate my Henge. Toshiki knows about my arm and cheek - he just doesn't know how I got them - but that henge also hid the vivisection scars and the storage seals; the proficiency of the latter indicating I'm not normal level. Now they see all of me for the first time. Oh...there are going to be so many questions. Uncomfortable questions.

A beetle lands on my arm, one of the bronze-coloured ones that Yuyu Aburame(a girl as it turns out, everyone uses female pronouns to refer to her and she takes the Kunoichi classes) uses instead of the usual black chakra-eating ones. "Something's different," she says, quiet and less prone to talking than even other Aburame. "Lost a layer. Henge?"

"Yeah," I start off hesitantly. "I forgot to put it on when I left; I was kind of...preoccupied."

"You need to tell someone," Torusuke says, taking my arm gently and examining the scar on my arm. "Don't get me wrong, you're good if you managed to hide it this long, but nobody should be hurting you like this."

I snicker, prompting them to look at me oddly. Apart from the fact they think I'm being systematically abused - not too far off the mark, except it's not current like they think - what a dichotomy from...everything. I ignore the aching feeling in my chest and decide to talk them through it.

"Guys...you're right about what I've been through, to a point, but the people in charge already know. That's why I'm here in the Village."

Dawning realisation fills Erumi's eyes seconds before it does everyone else's: "You said that you were privately tutored...and that you finally got away...shit." It's the first time I've ever heard her swear and judging by the others' expressions, it's a first for them as well.

Toshiki, being Hyuuga and particularly Main House, gets it pretty quick.

"Kekkei Genkai?" He asks with his mouth in a grim line. I nod and his lips become a harsh slash on his face.

"How long was this going on?" Torusuke practically growls. It's unusual to see someone so worked up on my behalf with nothing but good intentions. I lick my lips nervously. They're just kids. They're shinobi kids, sure, but they don't have the maturity that comes from fighting to live each day at a time. Then again, Torusuke wouldn't have been offered that apprenticeship if they thought he couldn't handle it, Erumi is a little too street-smart for it to have been learned and my gut tells me that Yuyu and Toshiki have their own secrets.

"Abuse by my own clan from my birth up until I was about four or five. Then attempted brainwashing and experimentation by somebody else up until half a year ago."

They're all practically bloodless. Yuyu's voice quavers. "Class introduction. Mentioned hatred of surgery?" Like she's begging for it not to be true. I blankly raise the hem of my T-shirt. Torusuke's jaw tightens and he turns and gags into a clump of bushes. Those in my year look at him concernedly and in confusion.

When he pulls himself together, he answers their unasked question with a hollow voice. "Next year you guys will cover biology practicals including vivisection; basically, autopsies with the subject still alive." It takes a second to sink in. They all react in different ways.

Toshiki curls in on himself, clutching his torso protectively and no doubt imagining himself in my place. Erumi leans against Torusuke, shaking and silently mouthing swear words to herself. Yuyu whimpers and kind of slumps to a cross-legged seat on the ground, metallic-coloured kikaichu suddenly swarming over her coat in response to her distress.

I let my T-shirt fall back into place, sit down on the ground next to Yuyu, open up my bento and start eating. It's Lunch Break after all.

Torusuke always knew that Kimimaro was a tough little shit, but this was proof. And the kid was just eating his lunch like he hadn't just dropped a paper-bomb of terrifying proportions. Torusuke knew that Kekkei Genkai children sometimes met horrible fates, but this was someone he knew. And what Clan abused it's own child?! An infant, no less. If he hadn't already known that the Kaguya Clan was extinct(save one), he would be planning to raze them to the ground the moment he was able.

"Damn it all, Kimimaro," he gasps out, but checks himself when he sees the guarded look in the younger boy's green eyes. "Why tell us now? You could have lied." Torusuke asks. Really, it was obvious why Kimimaro had hid the scars in the first place; who wanted to be reminded of such horrors every time they looked in the mirror?

At first, it looked as if no answer was going to be given at all. But then, a quiet sigh; "I'm tired of keeping it all locked up in my head. Also, I trust you guys. I mean, I'm pretty sure it's trust, I just know you won't...I...judge me."

And damn if that just didn't make his heart bleed even more.

Erumi drops to one knee beside Kimimaro and slowly puts her arms around his shoulders. "Nobody," she says to him, but loud enough for all the others to hear. "Will ever hurt you again." It's a promise, a pact of which they all enter into as they nod their heads at this declaration.

Kimimaro snorts derisively, but Torusuke can see his resolve cracking. "Unrealistic. I'm going to get hurt at some point; you can't stop that."

"We're not that stupid," Toshiki smirks. "But we're not talking about that. We mean-'"

"This," Yuyu breaks in, surprising the rest of the group at this break in her usually retiring-to-the-point-of-muteness nature. She reaches out a slim, tanned hand and places it on his chest. "Not this. Never again. Wrong," she re-iterates with a shake of her head.

Kimimaro stills for a second, his breathing harsh as he shrinks in on himself, before he gently bats the girls' hands away. "What's the catch?" He sneers bitterly. "What do you want in return?"

Torusuke staggers in disbelief when Toshiki boops Kimimaro lightly on the nose, despite his wrist now being caught in the white-haired boy's steel-trap grip.

Oh, and cross-eyed Kimimaro is bloody adorable.

"You're my friend now, genius," the Hyuuga says in all seriousness, levity gone from his voice and expression. "You don't have to do anything. We're doing this because we want to. No more masks. You don't need to make yourself look good anymore. We want to see the real you, Kimimaro. Can you give us a chance? Please?"

Torusuke is confused. Masks? Why would that come up? Was Toshiki really saying that Kimimaro had been changing himself to try and make them like him? This is...this is messed up. He sees the desperation and loneliness that drove such actions, but at the same time...it's still lying. And if the real Kimimaro turns out to be someone he just can't get along with, he's going to beat himself up over not being there for someone who obviously needs him. How much of it was fake? Because if the answer is 'too much', he doesn't think he can really put his heart into this.

Sure, he'd still protect the younger boy if needed, but staying friends is another matter.

By the time Torusuke sorts out his feelings, Kimimaro seems to have sorted his out as well.

"'Kay," he says quietly, letting go of Toshiki's wrist and taking his hand properly. "Going to protect you back though."

They can all see the slight difference in his posture; slightly looser and more vulnerable but looking more relaxed than they've ever seen him.

"You all think it's wrong that I went through...this?" He asks tentatively, gesturing at his chest where scars hide beneath his T-shirt. Something in his voice, a silent plea for validation, has them confirming his question with all the sincerity they can muster. He barks out a harsh laugh that sounds relieved, before mumbling something about 'course it's not all right, not okay, not normal'. Then he falls back into his usual soft speech, but overall seems as if his world has clicked back into place.

They spend the last few minutes of Lunch Break hastily eating while trying to figure out where they stand via testing the boundaries of this new dynamic with light conversation and subtle gestures.

Then the bell rings and Kimimaro looks down at himself. "Should I put the Henge back on? Others will notice if I don't, but I do like freaking people out with the truth."

"Your body," Yuyu says.

"Dunno," Erumi shrugs. "On one hand, I think you should only show people you trust. On the other...I really want to see their faces."

"It'll effect you the most, just do what you feel comfortable with," Toshiki muses.

Torusuke holds up his palms defensively. "Not in your classes; I won't be affected either way, so I'm not going to pick a side."

Kimimaro grins wickedly.

Yakuren-sensei gapes a little when she sees my two most prominent scars, but quickly reasserts her usual calm demeanour. No doubt she was given a light briefing on my background.

The students filing in stare wide-eyed at the imposing figure of ANBU Hound, who ignores them and turns away from his quiet conversation with Yakuren-sensei in favour of glancing me over briefly before brushing past me - briefly putting his hand on my shoulder - and through the door. The children still coming through the door stumble back to get out of his way. The snarky bastard's enjoying himself, I just know it.

Once such a figure of interest leaves the room, my scars start getting noticed; I see double-takes and it's hilarious. The civilian kid sitting next to me can't take his eyes off me and he looks a little pale. Those of the class who aren't staring in disturbed awe can be sorted into too groups.

The ones who are silently respectful are shinobi-raised or Clan, with two civilians who are from the rougher side of the streets.

The ones who stare with childlike admiration are nearly all civilian, but I think one or two are shinobi-raised. They still look at this world through rose-tinted glasses and probably think that I got these scars through some sort of heroic deed against all odds.

Fools. But they are children and their realisations will come in time. Hopefully.

I still have my...friends. Yes, friends. I still have them.

Ladybirds and...Him; That Guy

"Thank you for coming," Itachi says to me in an undertone. I stand next him at Sasuke's Entrance Ceremony to the Academy. Fugaku didn't come like he did in canon, but Itachi and I together attend in his place. Itachi memorised the whole thing with his Sharingan, smiling gently at Sasuke's excited face as the smallest Uchiha bounces up and down on the balls of his feet.

Itachi's been looking less haggard lately, so I get the feeling that Hound's been taking some of the pressure in ANBU off. The Uchiha Heir seems to be crashing at my place recently though and we've been taking advantage of the extra time. Namely, Itachi using my need to hug because Uchiha Do Not Give Hugs so clearly he is just helping out a comrade in need.

Itachi needs hugs. He definitely looks better afterwards. I get the feeling that none of his immediate family are remotely tactile. Fugaku and Mikoto specifically. Sasuke gets a pass because of his young age and that he's not the Heir and therefore doesn't need such an austere reputation. Needless, Sasuke hardly gets a chance because of Itachi being pulled back and forth and getting emotionally torn in the process.

During one of these Itachi Does Not Give Hugs sessions - which typically involve a fluffy blanket, hot chocolate and lots of Not Talking - Itachi somehow became my proof-reader/editor. If Juugo is there, we usually play Go Fish instead because poker is just humiliation waiting to happen.

Because why not use all my past-life knowledge? I'm writing down all the stories that I remember, filling in and embellishing the bits I've forgotten and collaborating with Itachi to eventually get them published. I think he enjoys having a non-shinobi hobby to distract himself. Itachi says he's working on turning the short horror story with the flesh-eating snails into a subtle genjutsu. I am so thankful that I'm immune to genjutsu of that level because it's a pretty creepy story.

The Uchiha prodigy actually has a very pithy and dry sense of humour. The sort that takes a second to sink in before I'm snickering like mad and Itachi's doing the bland-brick-wall look which is the shinobi expression for wide-eyed innocence. He's also taken to incessantly humming the song 'Hanging Tree' after I introduced it to him. It's sufficiently classical-theatre-ballad that it passes muster in public so people don't ask too many questions about it's origin.

Sasuke thinks I'm sort-of cool because Itachi reads some of the stories to him and he likes the one where a princess volunteers to be captured by a dragon because she likes cooking and swords and outs a conspiracy to usurp the dragon throne. However, it's been drilled into his head that author is a civilian job, so I'm only sort-of cool. Also, I take his Aniki away from him, so there was a brief period where he was extremely jealous because his nii-san was doing not-shinobi things with someone who was not-Sasuke.

I'm slowly redeeming myself though. Because my ability to sprout varying types of horns at will is fascinating to a five-year-old. As is the way I can grow weapons and figurines. Sasuke may or may not have a small bone sculpture of a dragon holding the Uchiha fan in one claw. What can I say, he's adorable.

The Entrance Ceremony went smoothly; I caught a distinctive flash of very yellow-blonde at one point, but then it was gone. I hold back the excitement. I've messed with events a little bit, I'll probably run into Naruto at one point or another if I just keep doing what little I am.

So, I reply to Itachi's thanks with a "no problem" and press a plain envelope containing the next chapter for proofreading into his hand. I then slip away into the crowd and towards the Naka River where I promised to meet Yuyu Aburame.

"I got another one," I announce, holding out the ladybird for her inspection. She peers at it closely, though what she's looking for I don't know, before holding out a clear plastic tank for me to deposit the spotted beetle inside.

She found out that I actually quite like bugs and so invited me to come and collect ladybirds with her. From what I could gather, she's trying to breed their hibernating instinct into her own kikaichu because they die quickly in the cold and don't replenish fast enough; hopefully ladybird genes will give them some resistance as well as a higher fertility rate.

Yuyu's alright, I guess. Unlike other Aburame, who will nitpick with their 'why? Because...'' tic, she prefers to skip words altogether or just not speak at all. She doesn't exactly take pains to shy away from crowds, she's just content to stand there like a brooding monolith and project actual waves of crushing silent disapproval. My 'snarky bastard' senses tingle whenever she does that, so I think it's actually her idea of fun to subtly break up other people's conversations.

I like her; she's funny without, well, trying to be funny. She just is.

She's also teaching me how to make chakra threads, which she apparently is also teaching Toshiki. I'm not very good at it. Shikotsumyaku is mostly guiding chakra to the general are, then intent. Chakra threads, you have to concentrate on shaping it into a strand, not too thick, not too thin, make sure it doesn't break and only then can you think about moving it.

That's just one thread.

I now have newfound respect for Suna's Puppeteers. Also, the finer the control over a multi-jointed thing you want, the more threads you have to use, which means more fingers. Which explains why Kankuro and Chiyo are viewed as incredibly dangerous because they can use multiple puppets at the same time and Sasori's collection was...is a genuine 'everyone is screwed' technique.

So, plastic tank full of spotted beetles and me with a concentration headache, we walk through town. The Aburame Compound is on the other side of the Village and I need to buy some balm because Juugo's suffering from growth-spurt cramps in his legs. Considering how tall he is in canon, they're only going to get worse.

Suddenly, there's a shout of "Kimimaro-kun!" and this random girl whose hair looks vaguely familiar rushes up to us, mumbles something while blushing like mad, pushes a paper bag into my hands and runs back to the gaggle of girl friends standing over on the sidewalk who are giggling and staring at the whole scenario.

Eh?

I inspect the bag carefully before opening it. Dango. O~kay...why?

But hey! Free food!

I take one and offer the open bag to Yuyu. Then I pause because she's projecting disapproval again. "Uh, Yuyu-kun...why are you unhappy?"

"Doubt Tsumi-san will be happy."

"Oh, is that her name? Guess I'll have to find her and say thanks at some point. What's she got to do with me offering food to a friend?"

Yuyu looks me in the eye. It's quite unnerving because she wears a dark visor instead of the usual sunglasses. "You're sharing your fangirl's offering with another girl."

What.

What.

...

What.

Fangirls.

Fangirls.

Error.

Errorerrorerror...Current program has stopped working. Please stand by. Program will take a few seconds to reboot.

...

"What?" I sputter. No. No, this cannot be happening. Oh kami, they're looking at me. Don't make eye contact, don't make eye contact...

Yuyu hums in amusement. "Unaware?"

"Of course I didn't know! I don't even like girls that way!" What? I don't. I haven't hit puberty, so sexual/romantic interest in either gender is exactly nil.

From the girl group on the other side of the street comes an audible deflating noise and a black miasma of despair.

Two shinobi blatantly loitering in front of a shop window crack up laughing and stumble off in hysterics muttering things like 'comedy gold' and 'funniest thing since ages'.

I grin sheepishly at Yuyu and offer the bag again; "Dango?"

The next day, Toshiki and Erumi come over with massive grins. "So, we hear you're gay."

"NO! I AM NOT! This is the fifth time somebody's asked that! How is this my life! Come on guys, stop laughing."

Wouldn't have it any other way.

Next Time:

Tadpoles

"How long did it take you to come up with that?"

She's a Lady...

We glance at each other. "We never speak of this again," Erumi says, glare flatter than Holland. "Also, someone get me a tissue, quickly, there's blood all over me."

As always, read, enjoy and review about what you liked most and what you think will happen next time.

Itachi was meant to be just two paragraphs at most, but then he just stole the section away from me. I think Itachi would be an amazing author; probably writing dark philosophical fiction about human nature like Lord of The Flies or Orwell's 1984.

Also, Itachi needs hugs, so he gets some. Hug Therapy FTW.

The story with the flesh-eating snails is from Chris Priestley's Tales of Terror From The Black Ship. The one with the princess and the dragons is Dragonsbane by Patricia. C. Wrede.

I also have an announcement. I recently found a fandom whose mechanics are based on the soul. The souls come in the seven colours of the rainbow, one being viewed as more powerful than the others, with each having a particular personality aspect and the power channelling into different objects to weaponize them.

Now, am I talking about Undertale or Katekyo Hitman Reborn? Think about that for a moment.

...

WE NEED CROSSOVERS!

Squalo is basically Undyne, Mettaton is Lussaria, the SOULS are basically the Arcobaleno with the colours switched and Chara is Byakuran! HOW HAS NOBODY SEEN THIS?