Urotsuki Souta's Interlude
~*~*~
Once upon a time, there was an unwanted boy.
...
Okaa-san was cold but she was not cruel. This, Souta could attest to even when he had long shedded off every curtain of delusions he once covered his psyche with to keep his young self from breaking.
Brown hair, black eyes, pale skin-- okaa-san was a generic beauty in the Land of Water, but he inherited none of her features, other than her messy hair texture that he can't quite seem to tame no matter what he does. He wouldn't have guessed that the ex-kunoichi was his mother, if only she didn't unfailingly remind him that he was just an accident more often than not, but...
He could tell she still somewhat cared-- cared in a way how a human cared to be a decent person.
Her distant kindness was enough to satisfy Souta.
He could still remember her serving roasted fish and lukewarm miso soup on the table every breakfast, patching holes on his hand-me-down rags that he once called clothing, and training him with ninja basics to even think of surviving in their country that's swarming with both Kiri and missing-nins.
(But sometimes, when he has his back turned to her, he could feel okaa-san stare at him. Back then and even now, he couldn't tell whether she looked at him with distaste or longing. All he knew was that she looked at him like he was someone else.)
To okaa-san, he was just a charity case, and despite the detached treatment of his own mother, he couldn't find it in himself to care. In fact, not once had he even bothered to ask who otou-san was.
He never particularly felt the need or want to be loved.
Living near Kirigakure, he thought surviving was enough.
And for a while, it was, but then...
~*~*~
One day, someone important wanted him.
...
A Kiri shinobi happened to be nearby to witness seven-year-old Souta tear a group of amateur civilian bandits to shreds when they attempted to steal what little money he had on his person. It was embarrassing, really, when they tried bullying the boy only to end up dead by the scrawny little thing.
Fingernails clawed, teeth bit, feet kicked, and fists punched every skin the child could reach, and he did it with such ferocity that's no different from a wild animal.
The Kiri shinobi was intrigued, if not impressed.
Yes, the boy had no refined shinobi stances, no signs of formal training, no special skills, and didn't even come out unscathed; however, his battle instincts, sharp reflexes, and raw potential made up for it. With training, the child could grow up to be a wonderful asset for Kirigakure.
It was as if it's fate for Souta to be a Kiri shinobi; for, he was ruthless in a way only people could describe a Kiri shinobi to be. And if Souta happened to look awfully like the village leader, well... Truly, it must be a sign.
The unnamed Kiri shinobi brought back a black-blue-red child to his Kage.
With drying blood on his mouth and hands, Souta met the Sandaime Mizukage on a foggy afternoon.
~*~*~
And he later learned that betrayal at your own home hurts more than defeat at a battlefield.
...
Urotsuki Enkai was a powerful Mizukage, ruling with an iron fist over the subjects of his village. With water, lightning, wind and the storm under his command, he was rightfully feared by both his enemies and subordinates alike.
He was elegant, educated, but underneath his refined movements and dignified facade was a barbaric ideology that showed through how his village operated.
The weak are meat; the strong eat.
Kirigakure's graduation exam was the very embodiment of the village's dogma, creating the reputation of the Bloody Mist Village. Although, what outsiders don't usually know is that only the lowest caste's-- those defeated in past wars-- children participate in that exam, to keep them from forming a rebellion.
It was an ingenious method to filter those with potential from without, while simultaneously keeping their population in check. Inhumane, but efficient.
Despite everything he knew about the Sandaime, Souta focused on Enkai's shallowest feature-- his appearance.
Straight black hair that seemed like dark blue with the right lighting, mildly tanned skin, sharp nose and face shape, and if his irises were green underneath his closed eyelids...
Souta thought that he looked unsettlingly almost like the Mizukage.
Dark hair and light-tanned skin were generic descriptions, but their noses and face shapes were too similar to be considered a coincidence. Souta had a feeling that if he didn't inherit okaa-san's untamable hair texture, he would have had silky straight hair instead. He would've almost been an exact copy of Urotsuki Enkai.
An immediate assumption came into his young mind.
"Are you otou-san?" Seven-year-old Souta asked unabashedly, as the Mizukage regarded him with an assessing look, the man's face betraying none of his thoughts.
How audacious, Enkai thought at the time.
It would be ridiculously easy to have the child out of his sight by his ANBU with just a wave of his hand. He could just send the boy to attend the academy without any explanation, just so the boy's potential wouldn't be wasted if what his shinobi reported to him earlier were true. He didn't need to answer the orphan's question. He owed him nothing.
However, Enkai thought against it.
If the boy's physical similarities weren't enough to convince him of his paternity, the boy inherited more than just his appearance; particularly his chakra. It was a solid proof that Enkai could not ignore, especially with his chakra sensing that could rival the Nidaime Hokage's.
Fate really was an interesting thing for father and son to meet under such coincidental circumstances.
Opening his mouth, Urotsuki Enkai gave the answer that sealed the fate of his future successor, and consequently, his own future downfall.
"That's otou-sama to you."
(In the far future, when asked on why he killed his own father, mentor and Kage, Souta answered that it was to put Enkai out of his misery.)
~*~*~
Urotsuki Souta never really craved to have or be part of a family, especially with his own negative experiences with it; however, that doesn't mean he wouldn't take another if given a chance. After all, he's curious about what it's like to have a healthy family dynamic.
Curious, curious, curious...
He was curious on what it's like to have a domestic lifestyle; to have someone of his blood unconditionally care for him like the familial relationships he read in novels and stories. He was curious to know what it's like to be able to trust his kin, much like how his tiger summons trust each other.
Someone once showed him what that was like; someone filled with fierce loyalty and snarky comebacks and obsession with spicy food. Someone who had been proud of her spiky red hair, had been his longtime childhood friend, but had not been his family by blood.
Enkai betrothed the both of them when they were only eleven, for political reasons involving Uzushio.
His feelings for her were unclear.
He loved her, but he hadn't been in love with her. Though, he thinks he eventually could've been; would've been.
("You don't love me," an older, jaded Souta said with a straight face, said like how he would state a hard fact. "You just think you do, like how you think you know me,"
"I do love you and I do know you!" She exclaimed indignantly, eyebrows furrowed and eyes filled with unshed tears, which is weird because he never saw her cry before, and now she's about to cry because of him; he truly is terrible--
"Okay, how many family members do I have left?" Souta challenged, despite knowing that she knew that his father was unfortunately still alive, and that it was no secret that his mother had long passed. As his childhood friend, she knew that he had no siblings either.
It was a simple question, but...
"One," she answered confidently, her voice unwavering.
It was a trick question. To see if she really knows him beyond surface level; to see if she would still reference him from the boy who's filtered by the lenses of her childhood naivety.
After what he found out about Enkai—what he committed, Souta no longer regarded him as his father. That's why with impulsive haste, he foolishly made an assassination attempt on the Mizukage, and was currently a hunted missing-nin as consequence. He didn't even succeed in killing the man.
"Wrong answer," was all he said, before turning away to leave like he should've a year ago, when he suddenly felt a hand hold onto his sleeve. He paused, but he didn't turn to look back at her.
"You have one." She insisted, head bowing down, grip tightening, and her tears finally falling.
When what she implied sunk in, Souta's barrier crumbled as if to requite her vulnerability, and he thought that maybe, he could let himself have this.
He later regretted that decision.)
They were only kids when Uzushiogakure fell, and it was years later when Souta met her again. It was of great shame that when he was reunited with a good friend, his first thought was to leave her alone, not wanting to involve her in his problems. He and his father already ruined enough of her life.
And yet, for a selfish reason, he stayed.
If only Uzumaki Nami gave him enough time to reciprocate her feelings for him; if only she didn't die before they could even feel like a real family with their newborn daughter; if only he hadn't trusted...
Souta could only thank her that she had long sated his curiosity.
(In hindsight, when he recalled his history to his daughter in the future, he should've realized sooner that he did everything he did with the sole reason to avenge his best friend.)
~*~*~
His (Nami's) daughter was an anomaly in Souta's life.
No, he was not pertaining to his transition to fatherhood, nor was he pertaining to her special condition that she could somehow live without chakra—
("Souta, I swear to god, if this is a prank," Jiraiya swore up a storm in disbelief, and even in his Sage Mode to double-check, he still couldn't believe how a human—Souta's newborn child—could continue living without a single strand of life energy. "Why is it whenever something weird happens to my life, you're always somehow involved in it?")
Souta's anomaly was how quick he could contradict his own mistrustful and aloof nature to suddenly adore someone he knew less than a day. Hell, he doesn't even really know his daughter, as she has yet to develop her own personality and memories and mannerisms and yet—
And yet...
He can't wait to get to properly know her; to keep watch over her development and achievements; to acknowledge her dreams and ambitions. He just knew she'll grow up to be special; grow up to have a fascinating personality.
Thus, with a certain hanakotoba in mind, he named his daughter Momo.
Souta wonders if this is what it's like to unconditionally love.
What a dreadful thing to experience, when not too long ago, he witnessed the most important person in his life die. The scar has yet to stop bleeding (sometimes it stings when he looks at Momo's red hair that's exactly like Nami's), and he doesn't look forward to experiencing that again anytime soon.
So, he wouldn't, because his daughter will end up different. Her future will be different.
He fucking swears it.
Otherwise, he will break.
~*~*~
In another life, in another timeline, in the forests of Nagi Island, as Souta stared down at the corpses of his still-bleeding best friend and their stillborn child (his reasons to live, his meanings in life, his everything), something within him just shattered.
(No, not shattered, because that would imply he has pieces left to pick up.)
Jiraiya was baffled when Souta one day randomly approached him, then handed him all of his list of contacts and ledgers, before leaving without a word. At the time, Jiraiya was oblivious of the fact that that was the last time he would ever see Souta again.
(Souta always did have a talent for hiding his intentions; his emotions.)
It was ironically through his newly-gained contacts when Konoha's spymaster learned of Souta's fate— of how he ended it.
A suicide mission to finally kill his own father, the Sandaime Mizukage, and he succeeded at the cost of his own life.
The regret of not picking up the signs and calling out for him that day would weigh on Jiraiya's heart for the rest of his life, piled with more to come with every loss he would face throughout the years.
This is not that life.
(The butterfly of change does not die, and it keeps flying, its wings flapping, and with each wing beat, fates overlap and destinies are rewritten.)
~*~*~
"Ah sorry, I don't usually check the temperature of what I drink, but I can do what the book told me to--" A clueless father babbled until his speech was no longer comprehensible to normal ears, as he fumbled with milk bottles and hot water. He didn't pay much mind to his mindless murmuring, however, as he had no audience other than his infant daughter.
Souta doesn't know how to raise a baby, and he's not too prideful to not seek help from a parenting book whenever he's stumped on something. Single parents who managed to raise their child without one definitely earned Souta's respect.
Although, if there's one thing he does know about his daughter, it's that Momo was abnormally self-aware for her age, and Souta would have to be dense to not pick that up.
Crawling and walking at six months, talking at seven months-- hell, even before that, Souta sometimes heard Momo practicing pronunciations whenever she thought she was alone. And then, she started picking up vocabularies, and could speak full sentences before she even turned a year old.
Souta once thought that he couldn't fall any deeper in love with his daughter, but when Momo uttered her first words, he gracefully accepted that he was wrong.
The first time Momo called him 'tou-chan', Souta was so happy that he almost cried.
(Throughout his career as a shinobi, he gained multiple monikers and nicknames from allies and enemies alike. Of all the titles he gained--killer, traitor, Slasher of Kiri-- he finally has one that he can be proud of.)
He should be bothered by her intelligence, especially with his paranoid nature, but he... surprisingly wasn't.
In fact, he was relieved, because it would be easier this way-- easier for him to raise her, and easier for her to adapt in a world where she was disadvantaged in.
~*~*~
Souta knew how dangerous it was to bring his daughter to his meet-ups, especially with his reputation across the Elemental Nations, but he couldn't find it in himself to leave her out of his sight for more than a few minutes. It's only been months since he lost Nami, and the wound was still too raw for him to tame his paranoia for his only daughter's safety.
Luckily for him, Momo's lack of chakra gave her a feel of incorporeality, making her presence similar to that of a genjutsu illusion to those who don't bother to look any closer.
All he had to do was to spread rumors that he recently lost his pregnant wife, talk to thin air in public, and people will draw their own conclusions from there. It wasn't difficult, as they don't know much of his personal life to know any better.
He didn't have to say anything; all he had to do was to imply. People and their hive minds would build varying stories until they all will eventually agree to one version:
Poor man; lost both his wife and child, and now he's subjecting himself to a self-induced area genjutsu to pretend that his child survived.
It's interesting to see the rumors take effect by how his shinobi contacts actively try to look away from Momo whenever she's around, because goddamn, if there's a universal truth he can rely on, it's that most shinobi are socially inept creatures and are a bunch of awkward losers who wouldn't touch emotional vulnerability with a six foot pole. Because of this, none of them could figure out his daughter's true nature.
At least, for now.
Yes, his sanity will be questioned; some would even look at him with undeserved pity, but as long as he keeps his information dependable, he won't lose his clients. That's all that matters.
It's kinda funny that this deception was harder to pull on his civilian clients than his shinobi ones, mainly because they're not familiar with illusionary techniques nor are their sixth senses honed enough to be capable of sensing Momo's 'absent' presence.
A simple invisibility genjutsu was enough to fool them.
~*~*~
The first time his daughter's life was threatened, it was by Arata-- Souta's own personal summon. On Momo's first birthday.
Needless to say, that particular afternoon was a disaster.
When he saw the tiger pin his daughter down, Souta was shocked still, then realized he had to make a choice between whether he should attack an old friend or not.
For his daughter's safety, his answer was obvious and immediate.
Leaking Killing Intent, Souta tackled his lifelong partner away from his daughter, then immediately shielded her away from the predator's sight. He glared Arata down, eyes narrowing with anger and betrayal, because how dare his own summon make him choose between the two most important individuals in his life?
They argued, but they did not fight. Then, they made peace.
Abomination, Arata had called his daughter, because of her condition she had no control over. His tiger summon acted on instinct, because according to Arata, Momo felt like a threat and he instantly tried to eliminate the danger.
"She lacks the very thing of how we consider living beings to be alive." Arata explained to him, and Souta can understand why his summon was instinctively wary.
Men bleed red, but trees do not; however, what ties them both together as living beings is their life essence: chakra.
Not every living being bleeds blood, but every living being leaks chakra.
Momo does not have chakra yet she is alive, and that makes her nature's anomaly. A drop of oil in a glass of water. A subversion in what's supposed to be an absolute law.
With a bit of explanation regarding the circumstances of her birth, Souta was relieved when Arata came to understand that his feeling of danger was just that-- a feeling. Arata can learn how to tolerate his instincts against Momo. However...
"I warn you now, Souta, not every animal summon would be willing to wait for your explanation nor would they be as understanding. Inferior summons would fear her, but it's the prideful summons who would act no differently from me when I first saw your cub," Arata forewarned. "Because to us, your daughter reeks of Death."
Souta took heed of his summon's warning.
With the situation handled, he couldn't help but think that it was ironic that he introduced Momo to Arata with the intention of introducing her to her bodyguard whenever Souta would be unavailable, only to be attacked by the supposed bodyguard in their first meeting. It was traumatizing to the one-year-old, and to some extent, it was traumatizing to Souta too, because he finally saw how easy it would be to cut her life short.
Arata managed to lay a paw on Momo only because Souta was unprepared. However, that wouldn't always be the case. He wouldn't always be fast enough to protect or deflect any attacks headed towards his daughter's way.
So, he started Momo's training the next day.
~*~*~
Souta has heard of prodigies before; every shinobi generation has at least one of them. He's heard of their feats, their milestones, their accomplishments-- the things they achieved in their single-digit ages. Their sparks start off bright and their fires spread out quick, but they burn out just as quickly.
(He would know.)
It's not of his fatherly pride when he claims that the word 'prodigy' is not enough to describe Momo. She's a budding genius.
Prodigies have limits; they start early, but they will eventually reach stagnation if they don't invent. The drawing line between a prodigy and a genius is that one is gifted and the other is revolutionary. The latter contributes something new.
(Souta briefly thought of another alternate universe where his daughter would be born with chakra. With her intellect, it's a scary thought.)
Seeing Momo learn, Souta just knew it would take a lot more for her to burn out. She was motivated, determined, and always introducing new ideas he's never heard before. All this in her own volition without the pressure of expectations from a clan or from demanding parents like other prodigies.
Once, she calculated her shuriken trajectory because she wanted to 'practice physics formulas on a hands-on activity to see if it was accurate or a mere estimate'. Who the hell does that?!
Applied physics? On weapon throwing? As far as Souta knows, you just either hit the target or not. He didn't even know formulas exist for that sort of thing, and coming from him, that says a lot. Either his daughter reinvented the equation, or straight-up invented it.
Momo's only three years old.
And she is only three years old.
Because despite her genius, she's just a toddler who's still figuring out life, albeit exceptional at learning about it. This, Souta had to remind himself of at times, when his vocabularies get too complex or when his discussions become too deep for a child's mind to understand.
His daughter tries though. Understand him, he means.
She would listen to him like his words were gospel, would look at him like he hung the moon and stars because--
Because...
Souta honestly doesn't know.
Momo would push herself to her limits in training, would boast every accomplishment to him, and he could and would see that she was trying to prove something.
(The way his daughter would look at him with expectations of praise and approval was so familiar that for a moment, Souta thought that he saw a glimpse of his younger self in her eyes.)
Were children often like this?
If so, his parenting handbook didn't mention anything about it.
~*~*~
Momo already expressed her dislike of kanji at two years old and she still has the same sentiment when she turned five. Souta can understand that. He didn't become literate until he was eight years old after all, and Enkai had already started his lessons a year prior.
Kanji was the bane of his existence, along with differentiating between the two kana, but he remembers Nami being absolutely enchanted with it. It made sense, Souta surmised at the time. The Uzumaki clan held kanji calligraphy in high regard, as it is an essential part of their culture and their specialty; fuuinjutsu.
It would seem Momo didn't inherit that particular trait from her mother.
And even if she did, no one could teach her fuuinjutsu anyway. She wouldn't be able to use it either, due to her condition.
So, Souta has no qualms in waiting for a few more years before teaching Momo the writing system. He couldn't help but think that she'd eventually have wonderful calligraphy, though.
At three years old, his daughter showed that she was gifted with good hand-eye coordination-- steady and disciplined hands that have extraordinary dexterity in handling projectile weapons, which presumably translates well with a brush or pencil. Lo and behold, he was proven right.
Although, he didn't expect to be proven right this early.
Momo's skill with the pencil is on par with an experienced hobbyist artist's.
She'd show him sketches of places and people and animals from that one notebook he gifted her on her second birthday. Each time she drew something in her sketchbook, Souta was admittedly excited to see her addition, and she was just as enthusiastic to show it to him.
He remembered the first time Momo showed off her artwork; it was his birthday present.
"We don't have a, uh, a photo-taker, so I just drew this!"
"Camera is the word you're looking for." Souta remembers himself saying, before accepting her gift.
Within a sealing scroll full of coded secrets and confidential information thousands of shinobi would kill for, there's a sketch of a father and daughter holding hands, hidden away-- protected and well-preserved.
~*~*~
Momo is... weird.
Souta doesn't mean that in a bad way; it's just that it's the most accurate way to describe her.
He already knew that she was born without a Chakra Pathway System, but he underestimated the full implications of it. Yes, he's aware she would never be able to use chakra, perform any jutsus, use his summons, but it's really different to actually see her struggle with common activities that involve chakra.
While she does have the Uzumaki's durability and stamina, she can't travel on trees or water, jump high, open sealing scrolls, augment her movements, and she can't even be healed by common iryo-ninjutsu.
Luckily, Souta discovered the latter early-on, while Momo's injury was not yet lethal; even better that they're in a safe environment.
The wound was a simple cut made by an amateur mishandle of a shuriken. He tried healing it with his basic knowledge of iryo-ninjutsu, only to be stunned when it was ineffective. His iryo-ninjutsu may be mediocre, but he used enough of it on himself to know that it's not his experience that's the problem here.
Souta had to study a specific part of iryo-ninjutsu to figure out if a Chakra Pathway System is essential for a patient to be healed with iryo-ninjutsu. He could've hired an iryo-nin to research it, but it's best to keep Momo's condition under wraps as much as possible. Attracting the wrong attention is the last thing he needs.
With a bit of research, he's disappointed to find that yes, it is necessary for the patient to have chakra to be healed, because an iryo-nin would utilize it to repair the body. This method is the modernized version of iryo-ninjutsu, invented by Senju Hashirama, and improved by Senju Tsunade.
Before their revolutionary iryo-ninjutsu, iryo-nins had to memorize the whole human anatomy and its functions down to a T, while having large chakra reserves and above average chakra control. This is why iryo-nins were a rarity during the Warring States Era, as they have to manually heal the patient with the iryo-nin's chakra, as opposed to the modern iryo-ninjutsu, where the iryo-nins use their own chakra just to guide the patient's chakra to automatically heal themselves.
Modern iryo-ninjutsu made it possible for shinobi with small chakra reserves to be able to become iryo-nins. And Momo could never experience its miraculous benefits.
It would seem that if his daughter had to be healed, it would be by traditional iryo-ninjutsu.
The only person Souta knows who's adept with it is Senju Tsunade; a MIA shinobi of Konoha. Not (yet) a missing-nin but she's on thin ice.
He could try to study it, but he knows he lacks the chakra control for it.
... On the bright side, Momo is a fast healer. Souta would just have to hone her reflexes and train her how to predict movements and dodge faster to avoid any lethal hits.
Thankfully, while his daughter has a lot of disadvantages because of her condition, she does have advantages exclusive to herself.
Because of her lack of chakra, no chakra sensor of any rank could detect her, which gives her the potential to be an excellent infiltrator and escape artist. And with his studies on iryo-ninjutsu, he later learned that, theoretically, Momo should be completely immune to any genjutsu, as she has no Chakra Pathway System to manipulate her senses.
With a few genjutsu tests, Souta confirmed his hypothesis.
He was right, and he was so glad that Momo isn't vulnerable in every way.
With her intelligence, he's sure that she would use her advantages to their fullest potential. She's creative, like that.
Speaking of her creativity...
Souta always had a soft spot for art. Music, paintings, literature-- he is most fond of the latter, of kanji weaved together to form a story, a poem, or maybe just an aesthetic. He finds this ironic as he used to loathe kanji when he was young, but...
(A memory. A memory of someone filled with fierce loyalty and snarky comebacks and obsession with spicy food. Someone who had been proud of her spiky red hair, had been his longtime childhood friend, but had not been his family by blood.)
Art is a contradiction (hope) to Souta's pessimistic outlook towards humanity; both a solid and abstract truth that people are not meant just for destruction. Because just as humans are capable of destroying, they are also capable of creating. Other than kill, steal, and lie, they can also nurture, contribute, and invent.
It's too bad he doesn't have any artistic talents.
(Considering his thoughts about it, it says a lot about him as a person, doesn't it?)
However, Momo is brimming with it.
Souta would hear his daughter humming unfamiliar tunes, tapping her pencil in beats, before writing some kind of code on one of her notebooks. He once peaked at what she was writing (or maybe it's a drawing?), and he... didn't know what he was looking at.
Long rectangles filled with multiple horizontal lines covered the whole notebook page, with weird circles sprinkled all over. Some were shaded, some were not, and some had sticks. He never saw anything like it.
Even when he asked, he still didn't know what he was looking at, but he somewhat understood it at least.
"These are music notes." Momo told him, and Souta is pretty damn sure that's not what any existing music notes look like. He would know; he saw music sheets before. Even Momo would know, because he gifted her music sheets for the koto like she asked for on her third birthday (she decided music is for her when she once watched a koto player perform live in a restaurant).
Still, he humored her.
"Ah, for what instrument are your music notes for?" He asked, and without missing a beat, Momo replied,
"For every instrument."
"I... see," Souta hesitantly said, because that's not how music notations work. Each instrument has its own unique notation system, for the reasons of expressiveness and efficiency; and to be told that it's possible for a notation system to be applicable to all is, well... He'll just have to see it to believe it.
And knowing Momo, he eventually will.
Momo's music compositions are... unique. The tempos and melodies she uses are unconventional, but they are harmonious. Souta didn't think she would be this inspired just by him occasionally sharing Uzushio's music or hearing live performances in some bars and restaurants.
If Souta remembered correctly, she created six song compositions overall. He could remember some, like: Gekko Sonata, Aoi Ano Sora, Yakusoku no Nebārando Komori-uta, but if he's gonna pick a personal favorite, it has to be Samidare.
As expected of an art enthusiast, Souta is eager to hear the songs Momo composed. So far, he has only heard of her compositions through humming or whistling, so he's excited to hear what her music would sound like through an actual instrument (as a supportive father should).
He once asked which instrument she would like to play.
"Is there an instrument where you just, um... press something to make sounds?" Momo asked him, and it took him a while to try and recall a memory if there was such a thing.
"I'll ask around and see." Souta promised her.
He later learned of an instrument exclusive only to the Land of Earth called a piano.
Momo's musical talents aside, she has a... skill that he feels rather conflicted about. The glyphs she writes; at first, he thought she was playing pretend with her scribbles, inspired by her watching him write his codes or just kanji in general. In hindsight, he should've known that Momo is unfamiliar with the concept of 'play'.
"I wanna be like you!" She grinned at him, and he badly wanted to tell her 'no'.
I want you to be better, he wanted to say, but if he does, her curious nature would ask and he would have to explain why. He doesn't want to ruin his image to her.
Not yet.
For now, he will selfishly cherish the way she would look at him as if he was a good person.
~*~*~
"Slasher of Kiri: Urotsuki Souta; B-rank," Souta narrowed his eyes at the teenager who was reciting his bingo book entry. "Worth 2,000,000 ryo,"
"Why shouldn't we turn you in?"
It was unfortunate that four Iwa shinobi didn't follow their scheduled patrol rotations, and happened to encounter them on their way to Takigakure. Had there been no outside factors to have them stray from their usual routes, the Iwa shinobi wouldn't have to face Souta.
They wouldn't have to unnecessarily reveal any parts of his history to his daughter either.
The three didn't seem to know his underground moniker which proved his assumption that they haven't been in the field for too long. Their jounin was different.
"We are not looking for trouble, shinobi-san." Throughout their interrogation, Souta knew that their jounin commander recognized his name. It was telling enough when the jounin's eyes momentarily widened in caution at the mention of it, before effortlessly regaining his nonchalant look.
Good, Souta thought, satisfied. He knows better than to make an enemy out of the Silvertongue's Messenger.
Just like how Souta managed to read their leader's expression, the Iwa jounin seemed to be able to read him back, his dark eyes scanning his face before looking at Momo. Souta internally scolded himself for not hiding his anxiety better, but it seemed to work in his favor when the jounin didn't lengthen their conversation nor did he reveal anything incriminating, and instead sent them away shortly with a few parting words.
"Hmph, surprised that a Kiri nin settled down," the jounin remarked boredly, but his fascinated eyes said otherwise. "Fine, you may pass,"
After that, Souta thought it was smooth sailing from there, but he should've known that his luck wouldn't grant him such luxuries.
More often than he would've liked, Konoha shinobi kept crashing into his life uninvited. He was uncharacteristically caught off-guard.
The moment three explosion tags pinned themselves near them, Momo already jumped back, but the distance was not enough.
With his years of training, he could've easily dodged the blast radius, but Souta didn't think and just moved.
Turning his back towards the paper bombs, he wrapped his daughter within his arms and prepared for impact.
The explosion was deafening, but it was the shockwave and the hotburningscorching heat that were most damaging.
Gracelessly stumbling back from the sharp change of pressure, he stayed curled on the ground, mindful of not accidentally suffocating Momo with his weight. His teeth grinded together as he attempted to gather his bearings, his high pain tolerance saving him from the worst pains of his burns and headache.
Souta could hear the Iwa shinobi hastily recover from their disconcerted states, trying to fend off the invading Konoha scouts. He didn't bother counting how many were fighting or still alive.
Eventually, his tinnitus faded, and he can finally hear the high pitched 'clang' of kunai meeting kunai in the background. He struggled to move his neck just to glare at the on-going fight, resisting the urge to enter the fray with vengeful intentions, but the stinging pain on his back tamed that impulse.
... Even if he's unharmed, it's not like he would, anyway.
Had he not had a promise to uphold, Souta would've helped the Iwa shinobi turn the tides, not out of gratitude for their pardon, but just to spite the Konoha shinobi. Solely because of his word, the Konoha shinobi are safe from his wrath for endangering his and his daughter's lives.
With adrenaline still coursing in his veins, Souta picked up his unconscious daughter and hightailed out of the crossfire, heading back towards the Land of Fire's borders with a bitter aftertaste on his tongue for what he decided to do next.
~*~*~
Forming his hands into a familiar set of hand seals, Souta's palm met the ground to summon a juvenile white tiger, glowing yellow eyes peering at him from within the cloud of smoke. Once the plume dispersed, a chirpy young voice was quick to greet him.
"To whom is the message for? Nya~" The tiger cub asked, tail swishing excitedly.
"To the Toad Summoner," Souta told him, holding out the scroll for the summon to clasp in his maw. "It's urgent."
"Raiden is the fastest! Nya~" Raiden exclaimed, perking up with a toothy grin. "Will reach Jiraiya-sama in no time! Nya~"
Just as quick as the cub appeared, he was gone in a flash of lightning white, making Souta's hair bristle at the waning residue of static electricity. It only took an instant for him to be the only conscious individual within the inn room.
With tired eyes, Souta looked over at Momo's still body on the bed, her breathing being the only sign of life. It's times like this that he finds troubling when he has to depend on his eyesight to check one's health, instead of just detecting their chakra.
Momo had always been vulnerable to Souta's eyes, but seeing her bedridden and wrapped in bandages made her look downright fragile. The looming danger of this upcoming war suddenly felt so real, as if he finally realized the threat hovering above his head like a guillotine ready to execute.
Now, Souta would like nothing more than to just live in an isolated cabin with his daughter and just disappear from the rest of the world throughout the entire conflict. Unfortunately for him, that's not possible due to his responsibilities that require other human contact, even more so now that the first step of his plan would soon begin.
It's a bitter reality when Souta realized Momo can't stay with him.
At least, not until his plan's execution is complete. He'd give himself a time estimate of the duration of the third war to succeed.
(He will succeed. He has to.)
Souta is not afraid of death, but that doesn't mean he's careless of his life. However, he seemed to contradict himself when he gave no thought to his safety when he threw himself near the trigram bombs to protect Momo. Now that the adrenaline has long been flushed out of his system, he can literally think of four different ways for him and Momo to escape unscathed from that Konoha ambush.
That seemed to be the problem, wasn't it? At the time, he didn't think; he just did.
Brilliant strategist, Urotsuki Souta, reduced to an impulsive amateur for the sake of his daughter's safety.
With Momo around, Souta would be quick to throw his life away for her, and that's not ideal where anywhere is a potential battlefield. He needs himself alive, and for that to be so, Momo needs to be safe. It's too dangerous for her to be outside village walls.
Souta would not have her settle in any less than a Great Hidden Village.
That is where Jiraiya comes in.
While Souta does contact the Toad Sage annually regarding Momo's condition updates via letters, he hasn't physically seen the man for five years. He has no reason to, really. That, and Souta would have to exert effort at looking Jiraiya in the eyes, because the last time they met, he had been too open and vulnerable and grieving.
It's to his shame to admit that he's embarrassed.
At that time, against Souta's better judgment, he didn't give himself time to compose himself and just let Jiraiya see him as an unguarded, miserable man, rather than the confident, infallible entity that most people associate him with with his designation. Jiraiya witnessed him disheveled and out of his depth, clutching on his bundled, chakraless newborn, anxiously wondering if she's on a timer, if she's dying, if he's going to grieve twice in a day–
Looking back at it, Souta didn't know why Jiraiya was the first to come to mind when he needed help.
Maybe it's because the problem was chakra-related and Jiraiya is the only senjutsu user he knows; maybe it's because Souta vaguely knows that a seal is involved and Jiraiya is one of the best at his craft; maybe he had hoped that Jiraiya would've led him to Tsunade, as he had no time to connect with his contacts to know the wandering Slug Princess' whereabouts.
No matter what his thought process was, what's done is done, and Souta added another unnecessary layer to his relationship with Jiraiya.
In Souta's whole life, he only has a handful of people he knows amicably outside of a professional environment– it doesn't even reach all five of his fingers. He acknowledges that he's short on human companions, especially that one of them is long dead, but he had been a Kiri nin. People like him thrive in little to no company, because that's just how they essentially are-- lone wolves with trust issues thinking that the world is against them. Better to be alone than cause a friendly misfire because of paranoia.
But sometimes, lone wolves encounter company.
Jiraiya is... Souta doesn't know if he falls into the 'friend' or 'acquaintance' category. Though, he's more than just his contact– this, he's sure of. After all, his tiger summons respect the toads, which extends to him having to respect the Toad Summoner as courtesy.
Their relationship is a transactional exchange of IOUs and favors, because Jiraiya is a powerful opponent with more loss than gain if Souta were to fight him, and Jiraiya needs nothing materialistic that's in Souta's possession. The only thing Souta can offer Konoha's spy is his universal currency, the very thing why Jiraiya approached him in the first place; information.
Thus, Jiraiya became Souta's back-up muscle, and in turn, Souta became Jiraiya's personal intelligence.
Of course, like all currencies, there's always an exchange.
With Jiraiya being more needful of information than Souta being in need of strength, Jiraiya is more often than not, indebted to Souta. Souta confidently thought at that point, Jiraiya owes him enough to be able to challenge his loyalty to Konoha.
If there's one thing the both of them values most, it's their honor to keep their words.
(Souta wonders which Jiraiya would break first if Souta were to make him choose; his integrity to his person or his loyalty to his village?)
However, on Momo's day of birth and Nami's day of death, Souta's bargaining was desperate– enough to have him erase years of debt that Jiraiya once owed him just to secure it. All Souta asked of him was,
Don't tell anyone. Not even your Kage.
Souta didn't need to specify which he was pertaining to. Jiraiya didn't tell his Hokage of Momo's existence, and even went as far as to act like that day didn't happen.
Jiraiya is many things, but if Souta were to choose a word to describe him, it would be reliable.
That's why Souta would be asking him of his biggest favor yet; enough to cancel his debt two-fold, despite Souta already nullifying them with his last deal. Officially, Jiraiya owes him nothing, but personally, Jiraiya still has his obligations.
They both know that Jiraiya still owes him; that Souta's bargain didn't fully erase his dues. They both know what kind of man Jiraiya is; he's not one to take advantage of the vulnerable, even if Souta were to deny he was vulnerable at the time.
Jiraiya is a righteous person like that.
This upcoming deal will be different, however. Souta knows Jiraiya will curse him to hell and back for what he'll make him do next.
The only bright side in this for Jiraiya is that it would be more than enough to pay Souta back. If not, Souta always has more information to offer that would benefit Konoha.
All this for Momo, Souta laments but does not regret.
Souta once thought that he didn't have the need or want to be loved.
What a joke.
Now that he had a taste of what it was like, he couldn't live without it; going as far as he's now living for it. For her.
Because without Momo, why would a tired man like him still decide to stay?
(He has many strengths, but he is still so inherently weak.)
Souta is many things-- shinobi, spy, and recently, father. In the end, the analogy of the lone wolf was never accurate; for, despite everything he is, he was, is and always will be just human.
~*~*~
The first time Momo met Jiraiya, she was rightfully wary.
Good, Souta thought proudly, she knows he's shinobi.
But that didn't seem to stop her from being able to get along with Jiraiya well enough-- enough for the two of them to develop a dynamic that Souta didn't foresee from either of their characters.
Imagine his surprise when he returned from tying some loose ends nearby the Land of Fire's borders, only to enter the inn room and witness Momo cutting Jiraiya's dignity with her sharp, witty tongue, and Jiraiya being genuinely affected by it (he could see it with the way Jiraiya's eye twitched). While they seem to dislike each other, there was some underlying respect they both have for each other.
The two just somehow... clicked.
Souta did not expect that, and he's not sure if their relationship is a good or bad thing in the future.
But, it's... nice. Seeing Momo smiling and laughing (at Jiraiya's expense) was a relief; even better that his daughter's problem solving and people skills are being stimulated by Jiraiya's subtle tests.
At the very least, Souta could see that Jiraiya considered his letter's request; Momo having fun while at it was just a bonus (even if she was now banned at the local bathhouse).
However, once Momo went to bed later that night, Souta's light mood evaporated when he would finally have his dreaded conversation with Jiraiya.
Their talk went exactly how he expected.
~*~*~
Their journey to Konoha felt like a death march– an awful and distressful feeling that weighed on his heart, growing heavier with every step closer to their destination. It's even worse when Souta knows that he wouldn't be able to stay with Momo throughout the entire journey. He didn't even want to tell her.
Jiraiya noticed that he's stalling.
Five days to arrive in Konoha is too slow and too wasteful for the time of two highly ranked shinobi, and yet Jiraiya didn't voice this aloud. Instead, he tried to make do with the extra time with the surprising creativity and productivity Momo managed to offer him for his novel.
And during that time, Souta became aware of some things too.
He's good for her, Souta realized with a feeling he can't identify, as he watched both Jiraiya and Momo chatter the night away with story plot points and tropes and anything that comes into their creative minds.
Momo needed someone she could stand on equal grounds with– Jiraiya's higher power-scaling and experiences aside. She needed someone outside her infant memories, someone who she didn't already put on a high pedestal. She needed someone beyond familial ties.
Momo needed a friend.
It was an oversight that Souta couldn't help but berate himself for. He may have grown up alone in his early childhood, but that doesn't mean Momo should be the same. He wants her to have better; to be better than him.
They're good for each other, Souta thought, and it's true. It isn't just Momo benefiting in their relationship.
Jiraiya is part of the Legendary Sannin, but his ragtag team were anything but legendary. As far as Souta knows, they're the paragon of everything human; one motivated by hope, one numbed by despair, and one driven by primal fear. The Toad Sage is different from his other two teammates; for, the more he's exposed to reality, the more he pushes it away.
Child of Prophecy, Souta once scoffed and he felt minutely bad that Jiraiya genuinely believes in such a thing just because a senile toad told him. If there really is one, why didn't they appear a long time ago? Why wait for their existence while thousands more suffer with every minute of their absence?
(But Souta does not refute him, because he can see how Jiraiya clings onto it. Hope, after all, is his motivation and for Souta to break it is to break him. Souta is cold, but he is not cruel.)
Jiraiya's dreams are big, his heart bigger, but the world is dominating. He knows this, and yet he still dreams– dreams too bright and too high to be touched by the grounds where reality's shadow can reach him.
Souta tried being his shadow, when the Toad Sage became too optimistic, too idealistic, too unrealistic. They never did agree with their worldview.
But...
"We don't need everyone to get along, we just need those in charge to be allies. While peace may be impossible, unity isn't," Momo said, and Souta was admittedly awestruck by her input. "Everyone is familiar with the phrase: the enemy of my enemy is my friend."
Maybe Jiraiya's dreams didn't need a shadow to reach him to have him grounded, Souta considered, as he saw how Jiraiya's eyes widened at Momo's implications. Maybe he just needed something that connects the ground to the sky.
Something versatile and changing, yet constant and controlled; grounding but not too restrained.
Like the wind.
Souta never realized it before, but maybe Momo can be that wind. The wind that blows directions for Jiraiya's dream cloud to follow, just so he wouldn't aimlessly float in his ideals and fantasies.
Jiraiya didn't need a contradiction; he needed a compromise.
Momo may not be much of an influence to Jiraiya now, but if their relationship continues in the future as is, well...
Souta always knew that Momo would be an impactful person.
And, it's then when he realizes another thing.
He was always hearing himself talk pessimistically about how the world works, telling stories of how life would always be a story of tragedy, but he didn't bother to acknowledge how Momo sees the world without the jaded lenses of his influence. He stripped her of her freedom to see the world and think for herself without him even meaning to.
And yet, even after all that, Momo still has an independent thought process; still sees the world differently than him, and shares her insights as freely as he does.
Despite Momo's misplaced hero-worship and open admiration, she does not imitate him. She acknowledges their differences, and rather than foolishly forcing herself to be like him like most children would do, she chose a path unique to herself.
She may have thrived under his attention, but not under his shadow. That is because she is Light.
(His light.)
Souta often wistfully wished Momo to be better than him, but maybe it's time to consider that she already is.
With that epiphany in mind, Souta brought his sleeping daughter closer to himself and hugged her a bit tighter compared to other nights.
~*~*~
Souta had once been a stranger to the phrase 'I love you'.
He's read it in novels, heard it from occasional public dramas he happened to witness in his travels, but he was unfamiliar with it like one is with a stranger. However, even as a stranger, Souta still happened to notice it no matter how fleeting, like he does with passing faces in a market place– glanced at but still considered unimportant.
One day, someone uttered that damning phrase to him, and he so badly wished that the phrase was human so he could kill it with his bare hands. It's easier to handle something corporeal, something that he could touch and destroy, rather than flail uselessly at something he can't touch.
(Why would she tell him that? What was the point? Wouldn't it be easier for her if he meant nothing to her?)
It's a set of words that held more bitter than sweet memories, because the first, last and only person who told him that was long gone.
Is it bad that he now somewhat loathes her for scarring him with it?
No matter what he thought then, it changes now, because now he understands why Nami said it to him.
The saying 'action speaks louder than words' is true, but that doesn't necessarily mean that they have to be exclusive from each other. You can do both, and most of the time, that's what people do when they really talk.
The little actions of direct eye contact, relaxation of tense muscles, the sincere attempt of transparency– it stitches well with the message he wants (needs) to convey.
"I don't just love you; I live you."
And like that, something within him felt lighter; like a weight he never knew he had had lifted.
For years, he had been evasive of his troubling emotions to Momo, but now that he managed to be truly honest for her, letting go of her felt a tad bit easier. Less harrowing. Less regretful.
That night, in his solace under the moon and stars, Souta nostalgically stared at Momo's first drawing for him, the campfire feeling a bit warmer than usual despite missing two presences. Tracing the neat sketch lines of the father-daughter artwork with his eyes, he let his thoughts wander, and he eventually pondered if trusting Jiraiya and sending Momo to Konoha was a good decision.
Did he make the right choice?
(In the far future, as he held his newly born red-haired grandchild, he concluded that yes; it was.)
~*~*~
The Land of Fire's forest has always been Souta's favorite place to camp in, as it's not too wet nor too dry for his personal taste. The ecosystem is diverse, lots of food variations, tall trees mean possible high shelter– not to mention that it's connected with multiple borders of small villages and countries.
It's convenient with his job, especially with who he plans to meet next.
"Nice of you to meet up with me personally," Souta greeted his arriving company, the silhouette of the towering figure was familiar, and even after all these years, he remained unchanging. "Kakuzu-san,"
The infamous S-rank bounty hunter strode up to him, but Souta neither flinched nor stepped back.
Kakuzu used to be a constant in Souta's life years ago, meeting monthly every year to pay a quarter of his bingo book bounty to have the self-proclaimed immortal spare his life; a deterrent fee, one could say. Once Momo was born, Souta stopped meeting with him and instead sent a scroll of his payment in place of their meet-ups. The bounty hunter had no complaints as long as Souta didn't ditch him and sent his scrolls in time.
Souta used to be just an investment for the fellow missing-nin, but he liked to think that they developed mutual respect for each other, both as powerful shinobi and cooperative business partners. Taking advantage of the fact he's constantly meeting up with an S-rank nin, Souta had long offered to have the Taki missing-nin work as his contact. With extra payment, of course.
From there, their relationship of hunter-to-prey became a relationship of hunter-and-hunter.
Their relationship even became more amicable when Souta would pay him extra for killing bounty hunters after his head.
"Your deterrent fee is late," Kakuzu started, voice gruff but not aggressive. "You now have thirty percent interest,"
"Oh? That's an improvement," Souta remarked good-naturedly. "I thought you'd charge me with fifty,"
Kakuzu is a breath of fresh air in Souta's line of work. He's not complicated to understand, because with him, Souta wouldn't have to do mental aerobatics to read if he has hostile intentions. Kakuzu would just blankly tell him if he would kill him or not.
Because with Kakuzu, his world revolves around money. And Souta? He has plenty.
"Okay, make it fifty." Kakuzu deadpanned, and with an amused huff, Souta pulled out two sealing scrolls and handed them over, in exchange for Kakuzu's scroll of information and sparing his life once again.
"Here is your deterrent fee with interest, and here's my payment for your intel,"
The bounty hunter knew that Souta's offered fifty percent interest was intentional, which meant counting it would be redundant as Souta has always been true to his word. However, it's of Kakuzu's habit to always count his earnings (money is the only thing he could trust), thus he was quick to accept the scrolls, and open them to count their amount on a conveniently placed log.
Souta's still and unmoving form further reassured Kakuzu.
Souta is not worried about the cost; not really. He'll recover his expenses once the Third Shinobi War starts. War is not financially cheap, after all, as villages will spend money for resources, assets, weaponries, information.
Souta is one of the few who benefits mostly if not fully in wartime.
"You have a daughter," Kakuzu mentioned casually, and Souta knew he would eventually find out why their monthly meet-ups had suddenly come to a halt. Unfortunately, Kakuzu is one of the few exceptions to the universal rule of shinobi not touching personal matters, simply because he doesn't give a fuck.
"Yes." Souta said, and Kakuzu seemed to have noticed the soft lilt of his voice.
"... Congratulations."
"Thank you."
Eventually, Kakuzu finished counting, and as expected of Souta, the numbers all match and he is fully paid without a missing cent. After resealing the stacked ryo back in his scrolls, he nodded his head at Souta's direction before turning to leave, when Souta suddenly spoke up.
"I have a proposition for you,"
Kakuzu paused and waited to hear it, because when Souta proposes something, it's always worth it. Then, Kakuzu is caught off-guard when Souta tells him of his future plans during the third war's crescendo, of what comes after, the upcoming revolution and its aftermath.
It's not the cunning schemes nor the bold ideas that had the S-rank shinobi surprised, it's how passionate Souta seemed to be when he expressed his proposal. In that moment, Kakuzu can see the difference between his target back then to the man before him now– between the shinobi who once only wanted to survive to now a human who now wants to live.
"You've changed." Kakuzu said.
"Like you said," Souta smirked, almost feral. "I have a daughter."
~*~*~
BONUS:
The translation of MC's mentioned 'compositions' in order: Moonlight Sonata, Blue Bird, The Promised Neverland's Lullaby (it's actually Isabella's lullaby, but she didn't use that title for the obvious reason of 'who the hell is Isabella'), and lastly, Early Summer Rain.
MC (staking claim on every music she remembers): I can claim any existing media from my old life whenever I want. What are they gonna do? Sue me??
...
Jiraiya (about Souta): I can fix him.
...
Jiraiya: I have no fear.
Someone: What if you woke up one day and Souta was taller than you?
Jiraiya: ... I have one fear and a new kink.
...
Souta: I raised a child with a softer heart than the world deserves.
Souta (taking out a kunai): Fortunately for her, my father can't say the same.
...
The Iwa nin (loudly announcing Souta's shady past in front of MC): So, Urotsuki Souta the Slasher of Kiri worth 2,000,000 ryo is going to Takigakure, lying about his work of being a service worker and is actually missing-nin, let us now discuss of what we know about his backstory--
Souta (frantically in his mind): shut up shut up ohmygod shut the fuck up--
...
MC (introducing applied physics to Souta):
Souta: *insert confused lady looking at equations meme*
...
Nami: I love you.
Souta (in his mind): ayo what the fuck
...
MC (looking at Souta, Kakashi, Shisui, Itachi and her own reflection): I welcome all of you to the Daddy-Issues Killer Club aka D.I.K.C and to start off, we—what do you want, hermit?
Jiraiya (hesitantly raising his hand): Y-you... you spelled 'dick' wrong...
MC:
...
Yall: Wow! This plot is amazing! I wanna see where the author goes with this!
Me, the author: Damn, me too.
...
Jiraiya: *being obvious on treating Souta as a friend*
Souta (oblivious to his invitation of friendship): Haha, Jiraiya really is a good person.
...
Souta (depressed): Nothing in life matters...
Jiraiya (enthusiastic): Nothing in life matters!
...
Jiraiya (explaining his future plans to Souta): Have you ever had a dream that you, um, you had, your, you- you could, you'll do, you- you wants, you, you could do so, you- you'll do, you could- you, you want, you want them to do you so much you could do anything?
...
Kakuzu: Hey, your rent is due today.
Souta: Rent? What rent?
Kakuzu: Your rent to stay in this living realm.
...
Kakuzu (acting as a grandpa in a family gathering):
Kakuzu (to Jiraiya): No, you can't fuck my adopted son.
MC: How did you adopt tou-chan?
Kakuzu: It all started when I tried to behead him and then he somehow befriended me with money–
...
Kakuzu, the father; MC, the daughter; and the holy spirit (the holy trinity): *agreeing to reject Jiraiya from dating Souta*
(This isnt actually canon in this fic, im just having too much fun bullying jiraiya ahdjdjsk)
...
MC (definitely not acting like a toddler and is too smart for a child her age):
Souta (not knowing how child developments work): Understandable, have a nice day.
...
Souta (showcasing MC to Jiraiya): This is the love of my life, my sunshine, my will to live, and the person I would kill people for.
Jiraiya: That's, uh, great--
Souta: She is talented. Brilliant. Incredible. Amazing. Show stopping. Spectacular. Never the same. Totally unique.
Jiraiya:
Souta: Listen, I made a summarized powerpoint presentation worth 8 hours to describe how wonderful she is--
...
Enkai (competing with MC's Mother for Worst Parent Award): Finally, a worthy opponent. Our battle will be legendary!
...
Miss Chief: Haha, sorry, but I won't give away Souta's full backstory just like that. The rest will eventually be revealed through present chapters; not from an interlude. A hint: his relationship with his own dad is not as black-and-white as it seemed. Their only on-screen interaction so far was their first interaction, and their relationship from there will and did change. Does Souta love his father? What about Nami? Well... we'll find out in the next episode of dragon ball z–
Also, yeah I didn't reveal Souta's and Jiraiya's secret conversation either. That's for Jiraiya's interlude, because lots of revelations on both their parts oof. All I can say is that it would clear up what's actually coincidental and what's actually intentional.
Souta's and MC's codependency is actually unhealthy, but it is what it is. While I think it's... fine to lay down your life for someone, it's not good that that someone is your only reason to live. Both yall and Souta need friends akjhaskd–
To clear up misconceptions, Yagura (Yondaime Mizukage) did NOT enforce Kiri's infamous graduation exam. With a bit of shallow research, you'll see that Yagura also had to partake in that graduation exam, and I'm pretty damn sure he wasn't the Mizukage when he was still an academy student. That means an older Mizukage created that exam; enter Urotsuki Enkai, the Sandaime Mizukage.
His appearance is actually canon, but his name is not. The Sandaime Mizukage's name was never revealed, but he had some cameos in the anime (he lookin fine ngl). Ultimately, in this fic, he's just an OC slapped with the Sandaime Mizukage's looks and title lmao. To be fair, he didn't have a personality either, so I'm making it up as I go.
Just a heads up, don't assume that my Kakashi, Hiruzen, Itachi, and Shisui from SAINW will have the same characterizations here. They will have different thought processes, and I WILL interpret their characters differently here. Maybe I will reference traits from SAINW here and there, but I swear, they will be different (but would hopefully still make sense with their characters in canon);;;
Also, I may have promised that Shisui and Souta will live, but I promised no such thing with the others. The rest of the characters are free game.
Btw, the Narutoverse's technological advancements are kinda inconsistent, so I'll have free reign on what they invented and what they haven't. In my headcanon (which of course will be applied here), their sciences are geared towards military use, like medicine (chemistry, biology, and medical machineries) and weapon development (aka ninjutsu and chakra theory). This means that they lack knowledge on other science strands such as advanced physics theories, calculus and trigonometry, astronomy, etc. Some are civilian studies at best. Sure, they know surface level theories and whatnot, but that is not common knowledge. To them, our highschool mathematics is considered genius level.
I mean, come on, if Orochimaru understood astronomy, he would definitely invent a jutsu based on any concepts of outer space. Imagine black hole no jutsu or some shit like that. Yet, he didn't. That can only mean he's not aware of it, because you can't convince me that he won't abuse it otherwise.
Yall, it's insane, I'm too far-gone with this fic. I legit researched the differences of our music notation compared to Japan's old one. My thoughts were like "Wait, did the old Japanese have the same music notes as we do? No, that's impossible because the instruments were different, and what the hell are the odds they would invent the same music system?"
Lo and behold, I was right and discovered the old Japanese notation ajdajsdhfk but WAIT-- it's not that fucking simple with the Japanese. Like their three writing systems, Japanese notations are exclusive to their instruments. Which means they have more than fucking one.
It's like learning piano notes, and when you want to play the flute, you have to study its music sheet. A piano player cannot read a flute player's music sheet because they don't share the same notation system ajkdshaskdh