21

Chapter 21: Twenty-OneChapter Text

TWENTY-ONE:

"Introduce yourselves!" The man snapped.

Sansa pressed her lips together and said nothing. Beside her, Naruto shifted uneasily.

The Hokage hadn't given them time to say goodbye to Tama or to collect their belongings. They hadn't even been given them time to change; they were both still dressed in the clothes they'd worn to Kanna's funeral, with their threadbare jackets and scarves wrapped over their hair. Instead, the Hokage had had his ANBU pick them up and forcibly carry them to the Konoha Ninja Academy. Sansa had considered kicking and screaming and making a fuss, but she was a princess, and she had been a Queen; she would not shame her ancestors so, she had more dignity then that. Instead, she had maintained a stony silence as the wolf inside her had howled its rage, pacing restlessly at its confines.

When the ANBU carried her into the classroom full of staring six and seven year old children and sat her down at one of the desks, Sansa held her head high, ignoring the whispers around her, like the hissing of a nest of snakes. Instead, she stared straight ahead at the wall, ignoring everyone. When Naruto was placed next to her, she shifted slightly, reaching out to link her hand with his and squeeze gently, but otherwise didn't shift her gaze even slightly, not even when the teacher called for them to introduce themselves.

"I said," the man who was to be their instructor repeated, and Sansa could feel an unsettling presence in the air, something laced with malice that had Naruto shivering beside her, "introduce yourselves!"

"I– I'm Uzumaki Naruto," her brother stammered, shrinking into her side, "a– and this is my sister, Uzumaki Fuyuko."

"And can your sister not speak for herself?" the instructor demanded, and Naruto flinched into her. She squeezed his hand again but stayed stubbornly silent, mentally apologising to her brother.

"Sh-she isn't going to b-be a ninja," Naruto stammered. "She's going to be a s-seamstress, dattebayo!"

Sansa's lips twitched slightly at his enthusiastic 'believe it!' but in her peripheral vision, she could see the dark look that crossed the instructor's face.

"She will be a shinobi or she will die," he said coldly and Naruto flinched again, tears filling his eyes. Sansa's jaw clenched and the anger rose up in her again, the wounds left from Kanna's death still too raw for his careless words to not draw blood. But still, she remained silent.

She let herself retreat into the back of her mind without falling into her mindscape or warging, simply sitting back and observing from a distance as her body went through the motions of sitting and staring at the wall while the instructor seemed to alternate between teaching the class and singling out her and Naruto to fling verbal abuse. Naruto kept shrinking into her, trembling and flinching, and Sansa hated, oh she hated so fiercely and fervently, but she refused to end her silent protest.

And then came sparring practice. A wave of dread washed over Sansa as the class scrambled eagerly to their feet and rushed for outside. The instructor made his way straight over to her and Naruto, a nasty grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Sansa just barely held back a flinch as he grabbed her by the arm, wrenching her up from the seat and ignoring how her hand was torn from Naruto's grip, causing her brother to cry out.

"Follow me!" he barked at Naruto, before dragging her along as he headed outside after the class, not even giving her time to stand. Sansa gritted her teeth, telling herself 'there is no pain' as she breathed through the sharp ache. The instructor dropped her as soon as they'd reached the rest of the class and Naruto scurried over to her, crouching next to where she had fallen to the ground and latching onto her closest hand with both of his.

"Ko-ane," he whispered, eyes filled with tears. "Ko-ane, are you okay?"

"Shh, little prince," she murmured in the Old Tongue, "I will be fine. But promise me you will defend yourself– do not copy what I do. Promise me this, my storm. Fight with all you have." Naruto sniffed and nodded.

"I promise." He vowed, in the same language.

"Since you both seem confident enough to speak through the explanation," the instructor said suddenly, "I think you can go first. Uzumaki Fuyuko, get up here."

Sansa didn't move from her position laying prone on the grass. The instructor didn't care. He simply walked over, seized a handful of her hair and used it to wrench her into a standing position. Sansa couldn't help but gasp at the searing hot agony on her scalp, before gritting her teeth, determined that he wouldn't hear any other sound from her. She had learned how to take a beating during her time at the Red Keep, how to sway with the force of a blow, how to fall without hurting herself, how to grit her teeth and swallow her cries. She would endure this as she had endured so much worse.

'Give me strength,' she prayed to the old gods, to Inari-sama, to the Shinigami, 'give me the strength to endure this.'

"Defend yourself!" The instructor ordered. Sansa just met his eyes, let him see her calm resolve, and waited with her arms held loose at her sides, refusing to do as he ordered. His blow hit her so hard she saw stars. She fell to her knees and the following kick to her ribs had the air crash from her lungs; a second kick had her on her back, hitting the ground with enough force it jarred her teeth as she fought for air, pain lancing up and down her side. The instructor seized her by the hair again and her scalp burned as he pulled her to her feet. Sansa swayed, still struggling to breathe. She could hear Naruto crying and it broke her heart.

"I said," the instructor repeated coldly, "defend yourself!"

Sansa fought the urge to close her eyes, instead meeting his once more as she braced herself.

~

Sansa's body was still in the midst of recovering from shock when the Hokage and his ANBU came to collect her. Her entire upper body was shaking and every movement she made was jerky and unsteady. Being beaten by an adult male for nearly a half hour while she refused to defend herself from his violence had old, blood-soaked memories lurking closer to the surface of her mind then they had for some time, fraying at her composure.

Naruto had listened to her, at least. The instructor had paired him with a seven-year-old who had almost two feet in height on her brother, but Naruto had dropped low onto all fours, out of the reach of the much-taller boy, then growled and charged, tripping the boy and going straight for his throat, claws first, pinning him. The instructor hadn't been happy but Sansa had been fiercely pleased.

The Hokage had a grim look on his face as he talked to the instructor and that grim look didn't fade as he gestured for one of the ANBU to pick her up. Sansa couldn't help her flinch but the hands were gentle.

"Still such a terrifying little creature, aren't you?" the ANBU murmured and Sansa jerked her head up to look at them, even as she reached out with the senses she'd been keeping fixed on the comforting warmth of Naruto's chakra.

Tora. It was Tora.

Tears welled up in Sansa's eyes and she buried her face in Tora's vest to hide them. He may be one of the Hokage's ANBU, but Tora had been kind to her and she would allow herself this moment of weakness. Tora's hand cradled her still-aching back, holding her to his chest, and Sansa took the reprieve offered to rebuild her perfect mask of carved ice.

She could feel when Tora started running by the flickering of chakra presences flashing past them. When they stopped, she carefully wiped her cheeks clean of tears before lifting her head from Tora's chest.

They were in the Yūkaku, she noticed immediately. She recognised the run-down apartment complex– she had been thorough in her time spent exploring Konoha, as there was not much else an infant could do except warg into the minds of the local wildlife. If this was the apartment that the 'orphan stipend' attending the Academy earned them then Sansa was not impressed. Shinobi were expected to risk life and limb for the village and yet this was the best they were offered?

Or perhaps, Sansa thought bitterly, it was simply the best that she and Naruto were offered. After all, they were the ones despised for having Kurama sealed within them. It stood to reason that Konoha would prefer to have the Jinchūriki buried out of sight, like the rest of the village's undesirables– the prostitutes, the criminals, the homeless, the street rats... she and Naruto would fit right in.

She stayed silent as Tora followed the Hokage and the ANBU in the doe mask holding Naruto up four flights of stairs. She could feel the angry flick-flick-flickering of Tora's chakra and it comforted her, to know he was upset.

The Hokage stopped on the fourth floor and made his way to the door marked '3', pulling a key from his robe and opening the door. As Tora carried her into the apartment, Sansa looked around, careful to keep her face blank.

It wasn't awful, she could admit. The apartment had two rooms; the main room and a small room leading off it that contained a sink, a shower and a toilet. Within the main room, the heads of two sleeping mats were lined up along the wall to the right so they unfolded out towards the centre of the room and a set of drawers was pushed back against the back wall. Opposite to the sleeping mats, over to the left, was the tiny kitchen area with its stove, sink, microwave, pantry, and cupboard. In the centre of the room sat an old-looking sofa and sitting on that sofa was the bag they had left at the Palace of Flowers.

Sansa could work with this. She could make this a home.

She patted Tora's vest, silently asking to be put down. He immediately knelt down and she only winced slightly as she was set on her feet. Her body felt stiff and sore despite Kurama's healing and she rolled her shoulders slightly before moving forwards, ignoring the Hokage as she went straight over to the bag on the couch. Tipping it over, she was relieved to see everything was still there. Picking up Inu-chan, she smiled at Naruto.

"Look who's here," she said, holding it up. Naruto, still in doe-mask's arms, lit up.

"Inu-chan!" he cheered and Sansa felt the surge of amusement in Tora's chakra, along with the spike of concern/anger/fear.

At least that told her Inu was still alive for Tora to be concerned about, she comforted herself again.

"Fuyuko-chan," the Hokage said, and Sansa steeled herself, having known this was coming. "Harada-sensei told me you refused to participate in class today."

"I told you," Sansa said coldly. "I will not be a shinobi."

I will not be your weapon.

"It is your duty as a citizen of Konoha," the Hokage told her, "to serve your village."

"And I will serve my village," Sansa said with all the ice her young, high voice could manage, "by using the talents I have. I am a prodigious seamstress and recognised as such. I will not be a shinobi."

The Hokage sighed. "Very well," he said heavily. "You leave me no choice. You will be escorted to the Academy each day, Fuyuko-chan, until you choose to attend yourself. I beg of you, do not make this harder on yourself then it needs to be. Do you really want another day like today to happen?" he asked gently. But Sansa could hear the threat in those gentle words. She had been beaten by a grown man for a half hour today. Tomorrow, the beating could go on even longer. A normal four-year-old would crumble quickly under such pressure.

Sansa was not a normal four-year-old.

She would not break.

~

Sansa did not break. Day after day, she was forcibly escorted to the Academy by ANBU and endured the beatings at the hands of Harada-sensei and her classmates, ending each day aching, bruised and even bleeding. Being able to return to the apartment she now shared with Naruto at least made the beatings almost worth it. Sansa hadn't realised how much it had frustrated her to have her independance stripped from her until she'd been granted a small piece of it back. 

She imagined a normal four-year-old would struggle, suddenly finding themselves responsible for managing a household, but Sansa had been raised to run keeps and castles, and she had ruled kingdoms. She could manage one four-year-old child and an apartment with only two rooms. Keeping the apartment, their clothes and themselves clean was easily accomplished, with food quickly revealing itself to be the trickiest hurdle to overcome. 

Sansa's skills when it came to cooking were negligible, to put it best. There had always been servants available for such work and though the pantry and refrigerator had been left stocked for them, when faced with a sack of dried grains that she was supposed to turn into rice, Sansa found herself at a loss. 

She and Naruto spent the first several days surviving on the fresh fruits and vegetables she didn't have to cook until Sansa finally dragged the sofa over to the small kitchen area with Naruto's help so she was tall enough to light the stove the way they had been shown the day they were given the apartment. Tentatively placing their pot over the stove, Sansa quickly learned through trial and error that she was supposed to add water to the rice to cook it and that stirring the rice as it cooked stopped it from sticking to the sides and bottom of the pot and burning.

She couldn't help but feel proud of the only slightly chewy bowls of rice they had eaten that night and Naruto's enthusiasm as he dug in made her beam at him. Progress was slow from there, but she figured out how to add egg and vegetables to the rice, how to boil noodles and how to fry vegetables, which could be added to both the rice and the noodles. It wasn't an extravagant multi-course feast, but Sansa was proud of her efforts and Naruto seemed to enjoy them so she made sure to teach him alongside her as she learned.

Naruto was the type to learn best by doing, she had quickly realised. Robb, her brother, had been the same– he had struggled to sit still and learn his sums from Maester Luwin, preferring to be on his feet and moving. It meant Naruto struggled during the classes at the Academy where he had to sit down and listen to Harada-sensei lecture them, though he would have probably enjoyed the sparring if it wasn't for what Sansa was forced to endure during them.

Sansa found that retreating into her mindscape during Harada's beatings at least helped her protect herself from the pain, though it meant dealing with Kurama's agitation as they paced about their cage of weirwoods. "Filthy, wretched creatures," they would snarl viciously, tails burning with chakra. Mito was always more concerned than angry.

"A Jinchūriki is a valuable tool for a village," she warned Sansa, her face drawn tight with concern, "but a tool only has value so long as it fulfils its function."

"I cannot," Sansa said quietly. "And I will not. I have accepted that Naruto must train as a shinobi. He does not have my advantages and such training will increase his chances of survival in this world. But I will not be a weapon for these people."

"So be it," Mito sighed, bowing her head.

Tsukiko's reaction wasn't much better than Kurama's. Her snarls were vicious, ripping through the clearing as she paced, much like Kurama. Sansa just curled her mind around Lady's, weary and aching.

"They will not break me," she promised the she-wolf.

Not like Sakumo, went unspoken.

"They may not break you," Tsukiko said darkly, "but they can take you from us."

never/MINE/sansa is MINE

Hush Lady, nobody will not take me from you, Sansa soothed the snarling she-wolf entwined with her soul.

"Why do you resist, Sansa?" Tsukiko demanded. "Why do you fight, when it is simpler to play along? Kitsune are tricksters, and you have sealed within you the Nine-Tails Themself! Surely They have advised deception over this defiance!" 

"I defy," Sansa said quietly, "because I must preserve who I am. I am the daughter of a Lord Paramount and a Great Lady, and I am a Queen; I was not raised to be a mercenary for hire, or to be a soldier on the battlefield, and I have never wished to be either. I was raised to rule and I ruled well. I am not a weapon, I am not a tool and I am not a soldier. I will let no man or woman take that from me."

"I see your heart is set," Tsukiko sighed, bending down to nuzzle her. "Then you must be strong, little one. For I dearly wish to see you grow into the Alpha you are destined to be."

"I will be strong," Sansa promised, and she remembered that promise the next time she was facing Harada-sensei and he had just kicked her in the jaw hard enough that she had to spit out one of her teeth, blood bubbling over her lips and dripping down her chin. A second kick to the head had her staggering, moaning quietly as she fell to her knees. Her mind felt foggy and disjointed and she couldn't focus; her vision blurred, Harada-sensei swimming in and out of focus before her. 

Something, she thought distantly, was terribly wrong.

The sudden sensation of Kurama's chakra burning under her skin, flooding through her chakra pathways like wildfire took her by surprise. She gasped; half at the sensation and half at the way the world had abruptly sharpened back into focus again– revealing the sight of Harada-sensei backing away from her, a look of profound fear and loathing on his hateful face.

"Demon!" he spat, something wild and panicked about his eyes, and Sansa noticed too late the kunai in his hand.

She moved, stumbling up to her feet, but she wasn't fast enough to escape the sharpened steel that buried itself to its hilt in her tender belly. Sansa's breath caught, the shock stretching the moment of impact to a small eternity. And then she screamed, high and agonised, falling back to her hands and knees as pain spread like a rush of scorching heat throughout her entire abdomen. 

Naruto, who had been forced to watch her be beaten day after day, finally snapped. With a roar, fiery red chakra exploded out from his body, the air suddenly heavier as it twisted about him, oppressive and burning and malicious. Her brother dropped so he was crouching on all fours, snarling, then he lunged at Harada. Harada barely had time to scream before blood sprayed into the air and his body fell, like a puppet with its strings cut.

Naruto turned then to their classmates, eyes fire-bright and slit-pupiled, still crouched on all fours and baring his teeth. Sansa could see the ANBU cautiously approaching, ready to defend the frightened children, and it was only her fear for Naruto that had her pushing herself up so she was crouched on her haunches despite the agony she was in and meeting her brother's eyes. She bared her sharp teeth at him and growled, guttural and commanding. Naruto immediately whined, crawling over to her, and she let herself fall forward again, rubbing her cheek against Naruto's as Kurama's chakra sank back under his skin and he bared his throat to her.

With the threat gone, Tora was kneeling beside her in a heartbeat, his hand glowing green and pressing against her stomach where the kunai had torn apart her flesh, burying itself deep inside her. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, gently easing her into his arms.

"Not fucking good enough," Sansa choked through the agony, because it wasn't good enough. It wasn't. What did good intentions matter, when children were tortured while the adults stood back and did nothing? The pain seemed to be numbing under Tora's hand and Sansa, still hurting and unable to deal with the justifications, let her eyes slide shut.

When she next opened her eyes there was a stark-white ceiling above her. She wasn't in pain but she didn't recognise her surroundings either; it was almost like a hospital, except instead of a cot with white sheets she was restrained to a cold steel table so thoroughly she couldn't even turn her head. Sansa abruptly realised she was bare of any clothing and an old, well-learned fear shot through her, the fear of any maiden.

"Ah," a voice said, "you're awake." Slow footsteps approached the table and her terror was sour on Sansa's tongue. Finally, the speaker moved into her line of sight. It was a man; he was old, his right eye was bandaged, as was his right arm, and he held a cane. Everything about him appeared weak, frail; yet every instinct Sansa had screamed at her that this man was dangerous. He smiled down at her and her skin crawled. "My name is Shimura Danzo," he said calmly, as if there was nothing unusual about their situation. "I've been assigned the task of training you to be a shinobi."