19

Chapter 19: Nineteen

Chapter Text

NINETEEN:

"Excellent," Kazumi said briskly when the ANBU escorted them back to the orphanage, the day following the Kyuubi festival. "Kanna-chan, Naruto-kun, go inside. Fuyuko-chan, you're with me." Sansa blinked but acquiesced to the matron of the orphanage's demand, waving goodbye to her brother and Kanna before following after Kazumi.

Kobayashi Kazumi was a hard woman, but Sansa held no resentment toward the matron who presided over the orphanage she and her brother called home. Kazumi may never have shown her or Naruto any love, but she ran the orphanage with a strict manner that left no room for neglect or abuse– a fact which relieved Sansa, considering the... incidents that had taken place at the beginning.

She didn't refer to the attempted murders by the children Kurama had orphaned here, but rather the incidents perpetrated by the workers at the orphanage. They had been small things; one woman backhanded Sansa across the face for spilling water on the floor. Another had seized onto Naruto and shaken him roughly when he wouldn't stop crying. Another yet had harshly shoved Naruto out of their path instead of walking around him.

All small things, but they had added up to a larger, grimmer picture with darker implications for the future. Kazumi had seen that grim picture, had understood those dark implications, and stepped forward, putting a stop to the potential for an increasingly abusive situation. For that, she had earned Sansa's gratitude and a measure of trust that led to the amicable relationship between them. That Kazumi had then offered Sansa the opportunity to earn money through her mending efforts only served to increase that gratitude.

Following the woman through the streets of Konoha, Sansa couldn't help but be curious as to where Kazumi was leading her. It was clear they were making their way to the village proper and Sansa took care to remain close by Kazumi's side; she felt almost as if she was walking unclothed without a scarf to hide her bright hair or dirt on her cheeks to hide the whisker marks. She could feel the attention of the scant few villagers who were out and about in the wake of the Kyuubi Festival turning towards her. Their harsh glares felt like the burning lashes of a whip against her skin and Sansa focused her eyes forward, ignoring the hiss of voices behind her and the bubbling hate in the swell of chakra, even as it stabbed at her senses, like red-hot fire-pokers.

Kazumi led them to the merchant's district, one that Sansa was unaccustomed to travelling, though she was familiar with it through her time spent warging into the various wildlife of Konoha. Most of the stores were closed but Kazumi clearly had a specific destination in mind, making her way straight to a small store with a sign 'Silken Threads'.

The store was crowded inside, filled with colourful fabrics draped over wooden stands and pinned to wickerwork dress-forms. The two women inside were busy at work; the younger woman was bent over a beautifully dyed silk with vibrant embroidery of golds, greens and blues, while the older woman was frowning over a thick sheaf of papers. They both looked up when Sansa and Kazumi walked in and while the younger woman immediately shied away, the scent of her fear flooding the small store, the older woman looked down at Sansa with a pinched face, her eyes sharp and searching.

She wasn't an unpleasant-looking woman; she was wiry, with steel-grey hair and sharp, pale blue eyes and a face lined by age. The younger woman looked alike enough to her that she had to be her daughter, though her skin was softer and her hair a gentle shade of lilac. Sansa couldn't feel any hate coming from the older woman, or any fear, but the woman didn't appear particularly welcoming either.

"So this is her," she said, her voice as sharp as her eyes.

"This is her," Kazumi confirmed, pushing Sansa forwards, almost causing her to stumble.

"She doesn't look like much," was the woman's observation and Sansa smiled at the woman, sharp teeth tucked away, keeping herself sweet and soft.

"I am Uzumaki Fuyuko," She said prettily, with a perfect bow, "it is a pleasure to meet you."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Inaba Shiori," she said, inclining her head. "And this is my daughter, Inaba Mariko."

Mariko gave a jerky bow, still stinking of fear. Sansa smiled sweetly back at her, hands clasped together as she bowed again. "Your work is so lovely, Inaba-san!" She chirped, like the little bird she wasn't, and she was satisfied when Mariko smiled tentatively at the praise.

"You do fine work too, girl," Shiori said, and Sansa turned back to the woman with that hard, thoughtful gaze. "I saw the dress you made your friend, and the odd style of shirt for your brother. The embroidery on them both was outstanding for someone your age and without any formal training. Despite your... background, it would be a sin to turn you away."

"Turn me away?" Sansa asked, puzzled.

"Yes," Shiori said. "Kazumi's an old friend of mine and she's vouched for you. She says I won't regret offering you a chance, so I'm going to. Uzumaki Fuyuko, I'm offering you an apprenticeship."

Sansa gasped, honestly surprised. "Inaba-san!" she said, after a moment of stunned silence, "I– I am honoured by this oppurtunity!"

"You'll need to work hard, girl," Shiori warned. "I'm not easy to please."

"Good," Sansa said, lifting her chin high, her eyes flashing, "because I don't believe in being anything less than the best."

That managed to shock Shiori into a smile. "You were right, Kazumi," she said, glancing back up at the matron, who had her own pleased smile on her face. "She'll fit in perfectly."

~

Sansa could barely contain her excitement as she and Kazumi returned to the orphanage, the hateful glares of the villagers sliding off her like water off the feathers of a duck in light of the giddy happiness she felt. The moment they arrived, she reached for the feel of Naruto's chakra, tracking him down to the backyard and tackling him in a hug. 

It was humbling, she couldn't help but think. In one life, Sansa had been a noble lady, then a princess, then a queen. To be a simple apprentice to a seamstress, a dress-maker, was so far beneath Sansa Stark that it didn't even bear mentioning. Now, as Uzumaki Fuyuko, Sansa could barely contain her joy as she hugged her brother tight. 

"Where's Kanna?" She asked Naruto, breathless and wanting to share the good news with her.

"She took the inari to our secret shrine," Naruto whispered loudly to her, pressing his finger to his lips in a 'shh' gesture and Sansa beamed at him, leaning forwards to kiss his forehead.

"Do you want to come with me, little storm?" she asked. "I have some wonderful news to share!"

"Yatta!" Naruto cheered, sitting up and punching the air with his fist.

Sansa jumped lightly to her feet and tugged Naruto up after her, the pair of them tumbling out onto the streets. Her brother was giggling as he followed her, his sandals slapping on the ground, and she absently made a note to start teaching him to walk with grace, rather than like a stampeding horse. 

The streets were still sparsely populated, as they tended to be in the aftermath of a village-wide festival, so Sansa took a more straightforward route than usual, cutting through Konoha proper rather than the village outskirts. As they reached the torri that marked the pathway to Inari-sama's shrine, she and Naruto started the clap-and-bow routine, making their slow pilgrimage up to their lovingly restored shrine. Only, as they rounded the bend in the river, Sansa gasped in horror, her mood abruptly plunging from its high.

"Oh no," she whispered, tears welling up at the sight of the destruction before them. The shrine they had so painstakingly restored had been brutally ravaged; the outside walls had been viciously hacked and bludgeoned and she already dreaded what damage they may find within its walls. What destruction had been wrought by grief-stricken villagers during the Kyuubi Festival? How long would it take them to fix?

And, most importantly of all, how had Kanna reacted? Sansa remembered with growing dread how profound Kanna's grief had been in reaction to the sacking of the shrine her mother had worshipped at. To have it happen all over again, and on the anniversary of her death... it didn't even bear thinking of. 

With a heavy heart, Sansa made her way towards the shrine. She bowed twice at the threshold and clapped before linking hands with Naruto again and stepping across the threshold, only to freeze, her breath catching as a terrible chill crept through her limbs, ice settling over her as she laid eyes on the violence that awaited them within their lovingly restored haven.

Naruto was saying something, but it took Sansa a moment to realise– it was as if he was speaking to her from a great distance. "Ko-ane... Ko-ane..." he said, in a trembling voice that told her he instinctively understood that something was so terribly, terribly wrong. "Ko-ane... why is Ka-ane sleeping on the ground?" 

Sansa couldn't answer him. She couldn't breathe. She felt like she was falling into ice-cold water– she was drowning, drowning, the familiar maw of grief stretching open to swallow her whole.

She could barely even recognise Kanna's beautiful face beneath the blood and exposed bone. But Kanna was wearing the rose dress Sansa had so lovingly sewed her, the white fabric having soaked up enough red to match the velvet roses, and her familiar green hair, the tangled strands clumped with tacky crimson, was fanned out around her.

There was so much blood.

Distantly, Sansa thought the worst part might be the smell. She remembered the smell so clearly; the thick, rich iron perfume that clung to the air when blood had stained the ground a vivid crimson, painting its tragic tale of violence and death. 

Or perhaps the worst part was how familiar it all was. The blood, the horror, the murder, the loss... no matter the world she lived in, no matter the skin she wore, it seemed she was destined to have her family torn from her. That bitter truth carved itself deep into Sansa's heart even as the keen ache of Kanna's absence settled into her bones like a long lost friend.

Naruto had started whimpering and Sansa was finally startled into action when he jerked his hand free from her frozen grip and darted forwards. "No!" She cried out desperately, but it was too late. Naruto was dropping to his knees in the sticky pool of blood, his small hands smearing red as he grasped onto Kanna's shoulder, shaking her and pleading for her to wake up.

"Ka-ane!" He sobbed, "Ka-ane! Wake up! WAKE UP!"

Bile rose in Sansa's throat, thin and acidic. She stumbled forward, stumbled over to Naruto, and grasped onto him. He screamed as she dragged him back, fighting her grip, all teeth and claws and oh-so familiar chakra; all rage and malice and burning under his skin. Sansa could feel where his claws were gouging rents in her skin, could feel where his canines were clamping down on her flesh, but she could also feel where his tears were dripping onto her, and somehow, that hurt far worse.

Sansa barely noticed as their ANBU watchers finally seemed to realise that something was wrong, so focused she was on wrestling the wild, wounded creature that was her brother away from their sister's body, away from those empty, glassy eyes, endlessly blank and gazing far beyond where the living could comprehend, even as Naruto fought so ferociously to return to Kanna's side.

Her brother opened his mouth and screamed, Yang Kurama's exploding out of him in a blast of rage-grief-fury-hate-loss and the very air around them seemed to shudder in a familiar, furious rush of oppressive, burning power, the weight of it staggering. Sansa gasped for air, stubbornly clutching onto Naruto even as he wailed, his eyes red-red-red, the same as Kurama's, and she realised, heart sinking, that everything was rapidly spiralling out of control, that they were teetering on a knife's edge towards truly dangerous.

She reacted more on instinct than anything else. She and Naruto were already on the ground so it took little effort to shift their positions, wrestling him down so she was effectively pinning him, the way they did when they played as wolves. She then leaned forward, pressed her teeth to his throat and growled, guttural and commanding.

Finally, at long last, Naruto went still.

"My little storm, my dearest prince, my sweetling–" she crooned in the Old Tongue against his throat, soothing him even as she held him down, relief flooding her as the corrosive, malignant chakra sank back under his skin. She nuzzled at his neck as he sobbed, wrapping her arms around him, letting him latch onto her. She didn't even let go of him as they were lifted by another set of arms, just vaguely registered that the arms belonged to a female in a white cat mask who stank of sweat and panic.

They were taken to a building Sansa didn't recognise. Like the hospital, it was clean and bright, all sharp angles and white walls. The room they were placed in was stark and bare; the coat of white paint doing little to disguise the fact the walls were built of solid stone and she could see the seals glowing softly on them. Even with the state she was in, Sansa wasn't fool enough not to realise this was a cell. She didn't recognise the seals on the walls, but she recognised components of them, from her studies with Mito– enough to know their purpose; contain, constrain, withstand.

Sansa closed her eyes as they were left clinging to each other, under the harsh, bright light above them. The ground was hard beneath them; there was no softness, no lies. This was Konoha stripped back to its core; harsh, hard, a bright, glaring white. No kindness. No warmth.

Naruto was whimpering, exhausted. His skin was red and raw-looking and Sansa absently noted the blistering on her own hands from where she'd held him down, held him through the miasma of Kurama's corrosive, scouring chakra. Her dress was ripped and bloody from Naruto's struggles and both her blood and Kanna's had smeared her brother crimson.

Kanna.

Kanna Kanna Kanna.

Sansa closed her eyes and keened, clinging to Naruto just as hard as he was clinging to her. She could feel his claws digging into her skin, sharp bursts of pain, but she didn't even care, couldn't summon the energy to. All she could do was finally let the tears spill, weeping like her heart was breaking as she yet again mourned the loss of one she loved.

~

Hiruzen dismissed the reporting ANBU with a wave of his hand and turned his cold gaze onto the sole remaining occupant of his office. Danzo stared back, entirely remorseless.

"That was foolish of you," he said coldly.

"No," Danzo shook his head, "the foolishness lies in having allowed the Jinchūriki to grow attached to a civilian. That girl was a liability and until today she was the single greatest influence over the Jinchūriki. That could not be allowed to continue."

"The twins could have been removed from the orphanage without the necessity of her death," Hiruzen pointed out, frustrated that Danzo had made such a decision without consulting him first.

"And you believe the Jinchūriki would have accepted that?" Danzo asked, just as coldly as he had. "You have allowed them to grow up soft, Hiruzen. They are attached and are already known to slip past their ANBU guard. They would have sought her out and resented Konoha for keeping them apart from her."

"And now they will resent Konoha for her death!" Hiruzen slammed his palms against his desk, frustrated.

"As far as they are aware, she was killed by a grieving civilian who lost their parents to the Kyuubi," Danzo dismissed his concerns. Hiruzen tightened his jaw but did not refute Danzo's claim. "And we were able to gain valuable information from the incident today," Danzo added, a small, satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "The boy is just as capable of channelling the Kyuubi's chakra as the girl, and now that they are four years of age you cannot be opposed to beginning their training."

"...it isn't a coincidence you had the girl, Kanna, killed now, is it?" Hiruzen asked wearily. Danzo just smiled.

"I look forward to hearing of their progress at the Academy."

Hiruzen sighed again. "I'll have them enrolled," he said. "And I'll tell the matron of the orphanage to, ah, 'kick them out'. I can approach them on the streets, offer them their own apartment in trade for attending the Academy." They wouldn't refuse; not frightened, alone, cold and hungry.

Danzo's smile widened. "As you say, Lord Hokage." He said, and Hiruzen almost smiled back at the implicit approval he could hear in his old friend's voice.