Chapter 1 - Early years in the Okiya (Patreon)

When people think of Kirigakure they think of the bloody mist and Zabuza Momoichi. They think of the rebellion. They think of a village of shinobi that is a bunch of clans that revelled in blood.

They think of the Kaguya, the Yuki, the Terumi, the Hoshigaki, the Hozuki, and the Karatachi clans.

And then there were the Seven Swordsmen.

Arguably the biggest joke and calling card that Kiri would have, according to the story at least. Their shinobi were the direct opposition of the main cast so very often. 

They were the villains, the side cast and perpetrators of horrors stood to highlight just how virtuous the main cast was. The story would convey them as mindless killers that revelled in slaughter. Their legends built upon a tower of corpses.

I wish Kishimoto had been full of shit.

I hadn’t had the greatest lens into the world but certain facts stood out when I became cognizant after… I wasn’t sure what it had been that killed me. One moment I was alive the next I felt like I was slowly waking up from a very deep sleep that lingered causing everything to be duller. It had taken a number of months for things to fall into focus beyond smudges and blurs.

I had thought I had been reborn into Japan at first. From what context I could garner I had thought I was reborn into a feudal era. We had baths but no phones or convenient pipes. We have musical instruments, cigarettes —much to my infant lung’s annoyance—, booze, and paper. All signs of at least a society that was decently advanced to my understanding.

When the world had slowly cleared up, one of the first realisations I had made was that i now lived in the back of Geisha lodging house that was attached to an Okiya. They were whores, but high class in their entertainment.

That I had been the child of such an action had stuck me quiet. Something that no one had commented on as I was already a very quiet baby except when I was hungry or dirty.

Before I had even learnt to crawl I witnessed my first murder.

It began simply enough. I was being played with by a young lady. Perhaps it had been my mother? I had no idea. I had enough of a grasp to understand that she never referred to herself in such tones. Perhaps my mother had died giving birth to me? I liked this lady. She was always kind and quick to assist me without scrunching up her nose and acting like I was shit that someone had left on her doorstep.

She hummed to me and rocked me in a soothing manner that let me relax.

And then the world had been thrown into chaos as a man was hurled through a wall, the thin paper and wooden construct unable to withstand the man. The man had staggered to his feet apparently no worse for being knocked through a wall.

What he’d said had passed over my head, lacking as I had in language skills as yet.

“Bastard! I’ll fucking ——— you!” It was true that you always pick up the worst words first. Somehow the context transcended the rarity they were used around me. The man had made to charge forward only for a thin metal needle to lance through both eyes.

He’d fallen to the ground screaming bloody murder while all the girls in the room with us had finally realised something had happened and likewise taken up screaming in fear.

My minder hadn’t she’d merely clutched me close and huddled back behind a table and making herself as small as possible.

It hadn’t stopped me from seeing the now blinded man having his chest carved open as a man cackled at his screams. The murderer had turned and looked about the room, now silent and snorted at the bowing fearful women before pointing at two of them. An order was barked and they stripped.

The madam had paid for both women.

That small infinity of time however had revealed so much of how the world was to me. I had seen how quickly things could be thrown into chaos. I’d seen how quickly circumstances could change.

I’d seen death and horror.

And I’d seen the shinobi headband around both men’s necks that was emblazoned with four small lines that symbolised ‘Mist’.

I’d been quiet before that event. From then I strived to become even quieter wherever possible. It wouldn’t do to attract the attention of monsters and madmen. Not that it seemed like it would matter.

Initially, I’d started to despair. I’d fallen into a pit of depression with the understanding that this was Kirigakure a violent Kirigakure that unless I was lucky would see me skip the worst of its atrocities. I had listened closer at the gossiping conversation that the women had when they thought they were alone.

Turns out Jiraiya was pretty clever to constantly seek out red women. They knew a lot about what was going on in their nation.

I learnt that the world had just begun a new round of issues with there being a war between the ‘great’ Shinobi villages. This was the second such occurrence and not at all something that surprised the women. Shinobi were after all a vicious bloodthirsty lot that liked the rougher things and often failed to understand any of the cultural or artistic references women of their standing could produce.

Sadly such men had the most money in this ‘Village’.

With my age, I suspected that put me more around the generation of the parents of the eventually ‘Konoha twelve’. If I was lucky I might not be dragged into the second shinobi war only to be in the prime recruiting age for the Third.

The pit had grown deeper that day.

I had no misconceptions. I wanted to be a shinobi. Phenomenal cosmic power was right there.

All I needed to do was step over principles about the sanctity of life. To murder, steal and probably torture. The graduation conditions were the thing that would loom large over me for any duration I had to learn to wield any shinobi skills. If I was to somehow make it to another nation I would probably face suspicion… If that was even an option.

So… what was I going to do? Learn to become a shinobi and kill a child? The other choice didn’t seem feasible… And so I despaired. I wanted to harden my heart but my memories from my past life recoiled in shock at the idea of going ahead with things as they stood.

My conscious mind struggled with the thoughts. I spiralled for what seemed like an age as my small feeble body lost consciousness only to be awoken for feeding. The terrible situation returned to the fore each time and caused me to be put off my food for a while. A few women in the Okiya fretted over me while others didn’t even deign to notice me.

I agonised over the future. The dreadful certainty of what would occur or what I would have to do if I wanted to become strong seemed so immutable. In the world of Naruto you had be extremely fortunate to such a ridiculous degree or wade through pools of blood to have any agency of self.

Kakashi was a perfect example. As were many of the older cast. Hashirama Senju and Madara of the warring clans would have seen their fair share of death and been the cause no doubt. People liked Hiruzen Sarutbi but the man known as the professor was also known as the God of shinobi. Something not given lightly. You didn’t have to dip into the Danzo or Orochimaru of the world to know that depths you might have to sink to.

For me? As a child of Kiri? What other option was there?

Would I be content to merely subside when the chance to throw lightning and waves and tornado? To fly? To burrow? To run as fast as the wind. These were all possible now. I hated myself a little more that day. I learnt how greedy I could be that I knew all of these wonderful things would come with a price that was horrible to my sensibilities.

And yet…

And yet I would cast them aside at the chance of doing superhuman feats.

Was there a way to make things better? In Kiri what would better even be? I knew but sometimes the logistics of a situation are more important than the ideal.

Could I stop the graduation ceremony? Zabuza had been a monster for doing what he did but had he any real understanding as a child? Kirigakure had written it off as a waste and stopped the ceremony afterwards. So was the end result of horror not a net positive?

Was that the answer? To become the Demon of the mist and murder an entire classroom by myself to spare future generations. To walk the path of a demon to shunt the world onto a better path?

I felt my stomach clench at that.

No.

It could never be my answer. I would not walk to road to hell with good intentions. I wanted to have stand for something, lest I fall for anything.

But I still needed an answer. One that I could tolerate.

I chased my thoughts around and around getting nowhere for days still. I kept returning to the issue of how murdering another person wasn’t my answer. I kept feeling tripped up on that. And then it struck me. Like a lightbulb flashing in my mind I realised how I had fallen into a trap of logic.

I had ostensibly presented myself with only two options. Something I remember being used against me during my College days as a freshman to have me accept doing things that would take me out of my comfort zone.

The situation was literally worlds apart but it still applied.

In College people had presented me with a choice and told me ‘I would accept it’. But that wasn’t true. I didn’t have to. The choice was always there I just needed to come to the decision not to accept it and find another way. This was not a do-or-die moment right now but it was something I would face in the years to come. But that was a trap, a delicious temptation to relax and let the most precious resource everyone possesses to slip through my hands.

I had time. I could not waste it.

I needed an answer then that would be acceptable to me.

I could start training my chakra!

Then I realised I might run afoul of a sensor shinobi. What would a sensor shinobi do if they found an infant training their chakra? Was that even possible? I needed more information. I needed a concrete plan. And I needed to get moving.

In both the literal and metaphorical sense.

That day I started eating more food and listening closely to the words. I also said my first word much to the delight of the women around me.

It was a calculated thing for the women in my life. I called them all pretty.

That won me some smiles and when the Madam asked why all the girls were in a titter I was held up in front of her. I was like a dog with a new trick. I didn’t just have one trick, however.

I stumbled over my words and called her beautiful.

She blushed at the calls of ‘the madam’s boy!’ that rang out from the women in the room. The laughter rose but for half a second the wizened old woman’s face relaxed into a smile. And then it was gone as she turned on them, snapping with words like whips I still couldn’t understand that sent most of them scampering away.

Then she looked me over and nodded. “Well it took him a while but he made his first words good ones.” She took a drag on her cigarette, ignoring my coughing as she looked to the roof in thought. “Made us wait certainly… hmm.” She eyed me before tapping me on the nose, thankfully not with the hand holding her cigarette.

“Matsu. His name shall be Matsu. It means Wait. If you are patient young man, I’m sure many good things will come to you.” She then ran her hand through my short hair. “With crimson hair like yours, I imagine you’ll be quite the beautiful little boy. Yes, quite the beautiful boy.”

I stilled both at what she had said and the many implications. The first was thoughts of oh shit! I better become a shinobi or she’s going to make me a boy whore! Then what she’d said registered. Red hair? Crimson red hair? Only the Uzumaki are shown to have red like that?

I chimed in beautiful again and she smiled happily before instructing the women I had claimed as my older sisters to feed me more and try and get some vegetables. I hadn’t liked how she had implied it was to make sure I grew properly and also had nice skin.

Damn woman! I was trying to make you like me not see me as a future cash cow!

I huffed to myself and got to work, now that I’d proven I could speak broken words I started talking and pointing to things I didn’t have names for slowly learning more and more.

It was ironic that my name meant to wait, but that was the last thing I could afford to allow myself. I needed to do very much the opposite. To struggle and grow. To run, dance, sing and more.

With my new words, I learned much about the women and their lives.

I learnt how Suki was the most popular girl that many asked after. I learnt how Midori mixed the finest drinks but never ran afoul of the shinobi.

I learnt I also learnt about the Village of Kirigakure. In a strange way, the gossip of the Geisha became a classroom all of itself. There were the lessons you could pick up from listening idly and piecing things together. Some of this resulted in vague awareness of ‘avoid this street’ or this shinobi. Certain regulars liked their girls presented in certain ways. Their drinks were always arranged in certain orders.

The best lessons came when a new girl was ‘acquired’ and began her training as a Geisha.

Before she would be expected to work as a true Geisha she was apprenticed. These new girls were always amazing sources of information as the older women opened up to them outright.

“Remember, whenever preparing a meal make sure you do so openly and without ever blocking a shinobi’s view of the cups, the utensils, the samples or even yourself. They are a twitchy lot and will become suspicious if you do not present yourself correctly. Being denied their coin is the least of concerns with them.” I sat and listened quietly to such lessons, absorbing the words and the tones. The way things that typically went unspoken between the adults were stripped back and outright stated for the young and naive girls.

Dancing lessons and drills in poise were worked into the girls like blacksmiths worked iron. Girls were taught simple poetry and thus I was able to begin grasping reading by sitting in their laps and following along their fingers.

I was seen as something of a ‘study-partner’ or young doll that worked with the girls. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I found I learnt more from sitting with the less educated girls as more effort went into teaching them specific tricks, and correcting issues they had mistakenly taken on. Meanwhile, girls that already had a grasp on the subjects were able to glide through without issues thus making them have more time to cuddle up to me and distract me from the lessons.

I became something of a mascot I suppose to the younger girls as the madam insisted on keeping my hair long as it could grow.

When I was not learning or crawling about while staying out from underfoot or being cuddled, I slept. At least to the women it appeared that way. I used the times of sleep or feigned sleep to continually search within myself. To quest deeper and deeper into my body for the structures that I just knew had to be there.

I couldn’t fathom a life where I would have no coils and thus no capacity as a shinobi. Or a shinobi like Rock Lee at least.

It took months of looking within but eventually, I found it.

It was a small flickering light that I began to stir lightly, afraid that it might go out if I demanded too much of it. With each touch and stirring, I slowly grew more and mroe confident.

As days turned into months and I moved through milestones I transitioned from soft food to hard. From crawling to walking. From walking to running.

This signified more opportunities and eventually, I was led outside the Okiya into the streets of Kirigakure with a firm hold on my wrist. We walked not through barren streets where people skirted about with hang dog tired looks but rather normal open-air markets. I learnt that if you came too early the mist would still be about and you would be more likely to trip over cobblestones.

I also learnt that it was best to wait until the mist mostly faded away.

This gave the clean-up crews time to go over Kiri and fix things up that might have been broken. During the daylight hours there was almost a normality to the place, but I quickly learnt that you were not supposed to go out after dark unless you were strong, and even then it was best to do what you had to during the day.

I found it interesting there was no concept of ‘go out with friends’. For Geisha having more of them together would merely act as a larger target. This was not my past life where people had rights and everyone should be able to walk down the street unmolested.

It hadn’t passed unnoticed that when my big sister went out she did so with a cloth firmly wrapped around her face. She allowed part of her face to be visible but she had applied makeup that made her look scarred. Like underneath the cloth there would not be a beautiful maiden but a scarred face.

It worked for the majority of people it would seem as I caught more than a few people peering thoughtfully at her before grimacing and returning to their day's tasks.

I was never allowed out of the house without an escort.

Despite living in a shinobi Village I only rarely got to witness shinobi themselves during the day and most of the time they looked annoyed to be out and about or interacting with merchants. They typically appeared, pointed at something they wanted and threw some coins down. When I had observed that enough times I realised that the merchants were benign vastly underpaid for what they had on display by the shinobi.

You could tell with how their jaws clenched and their eyes tightened but they refrained from saying anything. When a shinobi landed in front of them with the mist headband on display they became the perfect models of deference and respect.

They adapted by having the good stuff hidden out of sight. Whenever a shinobi had to ask for something the man made sure to explain that they would have to see as stock was limited. From this, I formed an idea that certain things that could be sold at cheaper rates were openly visible to the shinobi while other, more expensive merchandise that might ruin a merchant’s livelihood would not be placed on display.

You could always spot the foreigner on their first trip due to their stall or shop overflowing with goods. Only to be confronted by the reality that this doesn’t work for them as the Shinobi refused to pay well for something they could so easily take.

A wonderful demonstration of how pricing went hand in hand with the perception of scarcity I concluded.

I had to wonder if that didn’t mean that the supply of goods was restricted due to shinobi greed but I couldn’t be sure without a vast overview of Village-wide economics. Perhaps the merchants that were in the know simply adjusted their methods to account for greedy shinobi? It was only an observation regardless. I didn’t think I ever would ever understand it even with the information.

I also noticed that there didn’t seem to be many forms of modern entertainment to my sensibilities. There were dens promoting food, women, and drugs. Sometimes all together but these were always further down the street from the Okiya and only barely visible. I grew to understand that where I lived in the red light district was rather well off.

There were no plays, bookstores, places of leisure or even games of chance. Again I wasn’t sure what to think of this. Did they exist and I had yet to encounter them in Kirigakure or were they not at all present.

I noticed I was never introduced to other children my age. If I saw such children they stayed within the grasp of their guardians in public. I certainly never saw them at the Okiya. Part of me was thankful for that. It made me think the Okiya I was in better in some way. It made me wonder why I was an outlier, however.

So often it was best not to scrape past the surface.

When I strained to listen over the music and laughter that filled the Okiya I could hear much more violent acts being performed.

One morning during my chakra practise I grew overconfident and tried to push my chakra along my coils only to encounter a stabbing pain. I crumpled to the ground in pain and the closest girl dragged me into a corner until someone could check in on me.

It spoke well of my acts of engendering positive feelings towards me that it only took a minute for someone to approach with a small box in their hands.

“Got a sick belly Matsu?”

“No, I hurt here,” I said tapping above my stomach but below my heart.” The woman frowned and poked around the site before putting her ear to my chest.

“You’re not hurting from being touched… Does it still hurt?” I probed at my chakra and grimaced at the resultant pain. “Hmmm, I’ll ask the madam she might know someone. We have a doctor coming around for Suki later, she’s due to give birth soon. Maybe you can be popped in.”

I fumbled my words, “No place to go to get better?”  I really wanted to know if a hospital existed.

“Hmmm no, the doctor comes to us. There’s not a place to go and they get upset if we disturb them at night.”

“What if we’re hurting at night?” I asked.

The older woman patted the box with white clothe and what smelt faintly medicinal. “We have a box for that. If you don’t last the night… well.” Her eyes turned sad and she shrugged. “We call someone else in the morning,” she said before moving off. I stayed in the corner until the madam came, trying to consider the implications of what she’d meant.

I knew she’d meant the undertaker or someone to collect your body but to have it said so frankly. Moments like this always took me by surprise. One would think that as I grew older I got more used to the differences but perhaps it was the feeling of confidence in awareness that I had. Only to have some aspect of the foundation I had built tugged out from under me enough to make me stumble.

When the Madam checked me over she frowned when I pointed towards my diaphragm. “Did anyone hit you or did you fall into something?” she said prodding at my front and sides.

“No.”

She caught my chin in her hands and stared at me. “Matsu, have you been… feeling anything moving within you? Feeling anything like excited or you suddenly have lots more energy?”

I floundered. What was I supposed to say? Yes, I was and therefore could feel something different about my body? Or no? Say that nothing was different and potentially miss out on something important?

Thankfully my past life had taught me that yes or no wasn’t the only option. “I don’t know what you mean?” I said, projecting my confusion at the entire matter towards her with my childish features helping to sell the illusion.

“Tch, of course, you wouldn’t.” she chewed her nail and ran her other hand through my long silky smooth red hair. “Oh, I should have guessed at such. I’ll have the doctor check just in case.” She patted me on the head then and there and departed looking like someone had just spilled her milk and there was nothing she could do about it as the person was outside her scope to scold.

I could do nothing but wait until the doctor came around. So for the rest of the day, I lingered in another building where the obviously pregnant Suki was. This building wasn’t as nice but it was homely and out of the way which served to keep things calm. I strode up to her on my now much more steady legs having spent all of a year practising just that it felt like.

“Hello there Matsu? Come to check up on me?” said the naturally beautiful woman with a smile. I approached and cuddled up with her.

“What’s happened with you?” I asked. I knew the more childish thing to say would have been to ask why she was ‘fat’ but I couldn’t bring myself to punch down on her. She seemed pleased I hadn’t done so as she cradled my face and tapped me on the nose.

“I have a little one within me. Its woman’s lot in life to nature new life into the world my little patient man.” she continued to tap at my nose waiting for me to react.

“Another little one?” I played along and put my hands on her belly. “How… how did they get in there?”

“Oh? Asking such big questions? Well, that’s something between a man and a woman. So you’ll have to wait until you’re a man. Then we’ll tell you all about it.”

“When?” I asked. The question was both innocent and leading. When would she consider me as a ‘man?”

“Oh at least another ten years or so?”

I made a show of thinking about it. Ten more years, so she would consider me an ‘adult’ when I was just about to become a teenager. Was this true for all of Kirigakure’s perceptions? Somehow I doubted that. Or was this something the Okiya insisted on?

Somehow I couldn’t help but think that perhaps the shinobi might not even both with the distinction. You weren’t a boy, or girl, or a man, or a woman. You were a shinobi or a kunoichi.

With what I had been able to garner it seemed that they wouldn’t care for something as arbitrary as age. It would be power that mattered the most. The story of Naruto had often been depicted such to be true. Wit the likes of Madara, Hashirama, Kakashi, and Itachi. Those were the ‘good guys’ from the story’s perspective.

At what age would I be demanded on the front line if I were a shinobi?

I wasn’t sure I would like Kiri’s answer.

Instead, I decided to ask more questions of suki while it was just us.

“What happens if you get unwell?”

“Oh, the doctor’s coming don’t worry,” she replied easily.

“How do you become a doctor?”

“You’re born as one of their children or you get them to like you. Then they teach you if you’re smart enough. It takes a lot of time.”

“What happens if a lot of people get sick?” I asked. Suki didn’t answer that and instead lost focus as she looked away. She must have been remembering something. She gave me a said simple that told me enough.

“Well we hope there are enough doctors around for all of us,” She eventually said. I glanced at some scars I could just make out under her dress.

“Do the shinobi have doctors?” I asked getting to a more critical question.

“Yes, I suppose?” she said. I hummed wondering at the answer before deciding that she wasn’t one to ask. I didn’t get the impression that

When the doctor arrived he made some observations for Suki. I watched closely but I saw no glowing green hands or anything to indicate chakra use. If anything the man barely did anything more than listen to her heart, and question her regarding her health, her moods and how she was feeling before suggesting continued bed rest while having some compresses wrapped around her legs that apparently swelled up in the mornings.

And then it was my turn. The man mostly asked the Madam things like what I was like as a child. How active I was. When they described the sudden pain in the diaphragm he listened closely for my breathing before asking if I had felt something moving within me.

I once more tilted my head before shrugging. “Sometimes?” I said, curious as to what this would elicit. The doctor and the Madam shared a look.

The doctor sat back and rubbed his chin. “Who were the boy’s parents?”

“One of my girls, she was acquired by the Daimyo a year or so ago but I owed her a favour so I took in her boy. You dealt with the birth, remember?”

“Ah, yes. She no longer works here I seem to recall?" The madam shook her head. The doctor hummed before tilting his head. "And the father?” asked the man pointedly.

The Madam sucked on her teeth before shaking her head. “It might have been during her tour of the capital or perhaps even during her time in Fang. I think she might have run out of herbs in Fang but I wasn’t part of that tour. It was during the cease-fire between the wars.”

“It's possible the boy’s father might have been a shinobi,” the man’s words might as well have been a foul concoction shoved into the madam’s mouth as her lips puckered.

“Damn, I’ll have to hand him over to the shinobi… when am I required to do so?” I turned my head sharply to the doctor at this, uncaring of being obvious in my interest. The doctor ran a hand down his face.

“With the war, any person that demonstrates the ability to manifest chakra is to be remanded to the academy for training on their seventh birthday… that number is rumoured to be dropping lower soon though, so don’t quote me on that.”

I swallowed at that and the doctor appraised me. “You’re a quiet little thing aren’t you? Most would be bouncing in their seats learning that they’re going to be able to run as fast as the wind and swim with sharks without fear.”

I gave him a wan smile. “Will I be expected to fight in the war?”

The man shifted his head back and forth. Not a shake but not a nod. He eventually shrugged. “Maybe yes, maybe no.”

I nodded slowly. “Are there any shinobi like you?”

“In other lands, they’re supposedly more present. I know in the Land of Fire there are rumoured to be shinobi entirely dedicated to healing and being doctors. In Kiri there are not many. Is that what you want to be?”

I nodded quickly, my subconscious mind racing ahead of conscious thought. My mouth babbled the next words, “Yeah! I want to be able to help my big sisters!” I looked to Suki. “Everyone says she’s going to be in danger with my little sibling! How can I help?”

The doctor gaped at me while the Madam gasped. Suki teared up, her arms reached out and swept me up into a hug. “Oh, Matsu! You previous little thing!” She held me tightly, to which I returned the hug while patting her on the bag.

When Suki released me the madam shuffled. “Well, it’s good to see the young ones today so willing to help.” She nodded tightly. Her head turned to the doctor. “How do we help him survive?”

The doctor clicked his tongue. “The shinobi that I have been able to get talking about chakra coils typically say they settle around the fourth birthday after which he can begin working with his chakra. It would give him a good advantage… I’ll make some inquiries…” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully only for the madam to lean into his personal space.

“You’ll make those carefully yes? I don’t need any Hozuki or Kaguya sniffing around in here!”

The doctor nodded. “Indeed. For now, make sure he grows as healthily as possible. Take him outside and let him work his body. When his chakra coils form up we should have some other activities he can perform.” He leaned down to me. “No tugging on the light Matsu. You will hurt yourself badly if you do!”

I nodded seriously at that.

It didn’t stop me from gently working with my chakra and letting it slowly trickle out into my coils. It appeared that I only hurt when I tried to push things along. I had determined that much and continued trial and error showed that I could feel more and more of my coils as my energy began to expand into it. I didn’t have a solid grasp but I suspected that gently swirling my chakra and letting it trickle out might have helped develop my chakra system faster.

With the doctor’s orders, I was expected to work hard with age-appropriate duties that saw me running back and forth during the day and making trips outside into the markets with some of the Geisha when their tasks saw them out to the market.

For the next two years, I moved about and when a Geisha was free they played games with me. That these games saw me dodging thrown balls or evading ‘capture’ being something that would potentially save my life wasn’t missed. Nor were the thoughtful looks the Madam sent to me.

Occasionally I could almost imagine greed flashing in her eyes but it was tempered with a tight expression. I felt like she had hoped but she also had been stung enough times in the past not to let them run away on her.

I made sure to smile and give her thumbs up when I caught her watching my ‘play’ in the backyard. In those moments her face softened and she let hope shine through a little more.

To supplement my training I made sure to try and spot things out in the market. The prices that were advertised. Who had been cheated by accepting certain deals? Who had had shinobi ‘claim’ the product, and who had certain items not on display, along with what I suspected they had. I made an entire game out of it with the Geisha when we got home and upon hearing me describe my ‘adventure’ and recount it, the Madam had instructed each girl to ask me random questions to further develop my recollection.

When I reached my third birthday I felt my chakra coils ‘settle’ for lack of a better term and my chakra began to slowly fill my body. I found that I could now ‘push’ the chakra around my body through the pathways without pain. A whole year earlier than the doctor had suggested I could.

Potentially I had caused damage with my act but it didn’t feel that way. My body if anything thrummed with the new energy that seeped into it. I moved faster, heard more, saw clearer.

However, this great ability did not mean I moved more gracefully or controlled myself better. If anything I did worse with the inclusion of chakra.

My body and mind were unused to the extra power. I stumbled and lurched suddenly uncertain of how much strength I needed to put into rapid actions. I either over-committed or under-committed. But I quickly regained my control as the sisters forced me to dodge their questing hands and the multiple balls they tossed at me.

Whenever I felt safe enough I tested my control with the only methods I knew of from the series by sticking a leaf to various parts of my body and making the chakra ‘stick’ it.

I worked at this every day, confident that I hadn’t impaired my function. If anything I was starting to hit a stride as more and more became possible. I performed this and could hold a leaf from my head, my palm, the sole of my foot, the back of my knee, the small of my back, and my neck.

From there I moved on to sticking parts of my clothes to my body when I was moving around the Okiya, going for endurance training while making the action as subconscious as I could.

I never did it out on the streets. I was never willing to risk myself. The risk of a sensor nin happening upon me and becoming curious was too great. Right now I had to avoid the gaze of even the weakest shinobi. Anonymity was my shield, and it was very fragile.

When I got this to a level I could accept I began to work on restricting my chakra flow to my muscles. To another, this might have sounded stupid but if I learned the technique, I needed to learn skills and not compensate with overpowering through chakra.

I needed to use as small a movement as possible. To learn it so well that I didn’t need to think.

When my success rate grew to a degree that one geisha tossing softballs at me wasn’t a challenge I requested someone else join in from another position. This added a whole new complexity to the game and I slowly became better at evasion, picking movements and positions that would set me up for the next play or dodge.

A lot of this was due to making sure I kept my movement circular while keeping sight of my opponents. My feet slide lightly across the ground but never truly rose too high.

When I turned four the doctor returned as he had done each year and the detailed small tricks such as putting my hand into water and ‘scooping’ it without cupping my hand. Having a single drop of water roam about my hand before having it slide across my entire body. Balancing needles on parts of my body or standing on my fingers and performing push-ups. The last technique the man didn’t seem confident in and he suspected he hadn’t been able to collect anything truly groundbreaking.

He did walk away with his head bowed low towards the Madam though and when she returned her scowl was enough to inform me that some sort of ‘deal’ had taken place.

“Something wrong Madam?” I said with as much innocence as I could. The madam shook her head.

“No, never you mind for now Matsu.”

My lessons in reading and writing began and I pushed myself to learn alongside the older girls as much as I could. My inclusion wasn’t questioned but a number of them did wonder at my much smaller stature initially. Unlike their much taller ten-year-old frames, my five-year-old body stood out.

In a way, it made them more compliant with the lessons. If a younger ‘girl’ could do it surely they could as well. To most of them I was a girl. The Madam demanded that I keep my hair long as to her it was a travesty if I ever shortened it. I worried that it was a sign that if I didn’t become a shinobi, a different job would be my future.

I made sure to try and be helpful to anyone that was struggling. This let me talk with them without being seen as too much of an outcast. As yet I didn’t have any true jobs to do but it was obvious the madam wanted to get something from me by allowing me to become a shinobi.

If I did become a shinobi medic I suspected it would mean a lot better care for her girls at the very least.

My inclusion in the reading and writing classes—such as they were— was not the only thing that I was included in. They also decided to have me sit in on lessons on musical instruments. Learning to pluck a harp or blow a flute to a pleasing melody was something of a foundational skill for future Geisha after all. Just as the arts of learning to read a client.

Learning how to interpret small shifts in body position, how to draw the eye and keep the eye on yourself. Or how to be unobtrusive when assisting another Geisha performing their duties.

It was rather remarkable seeing this highly specialised form of sociology and psychology being talked about. Perhaps if I had been a worker in the sex industry of my past life similar meetings would have taken place. But for a feudalistic society to have such information and understanding did stand out.

I couldn’t underestimate the people around me. They didn’t have the knowledge but that made them no less clever or wise.

The best lessons I learned from these classes were how to act to convey myself to the world as a young man that was unaffected by the world. I also honed my ability to read others. Both lessons that I felt would be vital.

By the time I was six, it came as no surprise to me when the madam approached. “The war has not been going well Matsu… you will be required to attend the academy to begin your training.”

A week later I entered the shinobi area of Kirigakure for the first time.

Unlike the other places like the red light district and the markets that I had been to, the Shinobi side was more utilitarian in construction. The mist also never seemed to fully leave the air. It lingered and sucked at your body as you moved through it. The road underfoot crunched with gravel announcing us for any of the vague shapes that darted through the mist. Most of them were barely detectable with how little noise they made as they sped past. Men and women appeared out of the mist and continued on, barely sparing us a glance as they ran. Each of them sported a headband with the Mist symbol on it.

As we walked I glanced up. Around us cold cement buildings were built like stark towers in round shapes but each tower was built close enough to nearly touch its neighbours. No glass or wooden shutters were shown and I could only imagine that each room was open and accessible to the elements and shinobi.

I had no idea what that would mean but it left me with a vague unease.

I glanced to the woman that was escorting me. Her eyes were darting about and she shivered in the mist. I squeezed her hand. “Big sis, it’ll be alright.”

She shot me a thankful look but her eyes were sad. “Yes, we will be Matsu, thank you.” she squeezed my hand back and we continued on. As we walked I realised that the flitting shadows were not just restricted to the ground but also to the rooftops. Occasionally a person must have leapt overhead as I saw something flit from one side to the other.

One shinobi ran past only to stop and smile, his face stretching in a leer as he spotted the woman with me.

“Well, well well. What have we here?”

Another shape ran out of the mist and paused as well eyeing the man before glancing at us. “Tora! Leave the recruit and his ward. Lord Hozuki wants us for a mission!” I turned away from the man and realised that the new person was a woman, albeit one with a very rough-sounding voice.

Tora clicked his tongue, he gave my guide another look over. “Another time,” he said, and then he ran into the mist.

The woman huffed before looking at us. “You shouldn’t come back here.” She looked at me. “Find your own way in the future girlie.” I grimaced and nodded while my guide bowed her head.

“Thank you, lady kunoichi.”

“Tch, just don’t be stupid. Shitty makeup ain’t going to trick us.”  She smiled at us and I stared at her sharp teeth which only made her smile wider. “Later girlie, good luck making it through the academy.” She had vanished before her words reached my ears.

I shared an apprehensive look to my guide only for her to gesture onwards. A few minutes later we reached a slightly brighter cement building with the words ‘shinobi academy’ out the front. I felt the unease return.

In many ways, I had already begun to stride along the path of becoming a shinobi with my training.

Somehow being at the building where I would one day be pitted against my fellow classmates made it sink home.

It was as the kunoichi said. I would need to find a way to survive.

My own way.

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A.N. So this is the first chapter of a new fan choice story. Red Riot - an SI into Kirigakure in Naruto.

This story is unbeta'd so if there are any issues please mention them in a single comment. 

Otherwise, please leave a like and a comment!