When taking care of Sasuke didn't seem to improve my unruly nature, Emiko thought that maybe something like marriage would.
That's right. Marriage.
Well, not technically marriage-not right off the bat-but an arranged marriage contract with some other Uchiha guy my age that would hold up legally until I turned sixteen (which I never would), the minimum age to get hitched in this messed up clan.
I was only ten. My parents must have really been getting desperate.
"Rika, sit still," Emiko snapped, making a valiant attempt at taming my hair and making me look at least halfway presentable for the upcoming hell. It was no big deal just brushing it and letting me go for most days, but for an engagement prospect meeting-an omiyage or onmyōji thing; I couldn't recall the exact word Satoshi called it-it was "paramount" (and I quote Emiko here) that I look my absolute best and prettiest; my humblest and most graceful (a total sham) in order to secure a proper husband for the future.
She'd already wrestled me into an elegant, formal kimono she whipped up just for the event that was totally wasted on my stick-thin form-but I did have to admit, it made me look sort of pretty. I mean, I was an Uchiha-ugliness just didn't run in our veins and good genes were a dime a dozen, so I wasn't that bad-looking from the start.
Still, the deep-eggplant color of the garment Emiko had custom picked contrasted nicely with my slightly-suntanned skin (only slightly, barely even there, because even though the clan mostly had skin like porcelain, it was so hard to get it darker; plus, we should burn like albinos in the heat but genetics just said screw that. Stay pale). The delicate, silvery threads that made up the embroidery of two dragonflies chasing each other in a gentle swooping pattern added a touch of femininity I hadn't possessed in quite a few years.
It was really nice to show off and be, well...girly every now and then.
The only drawback was-"Ow! That hurts!"-Mama Emiko had to go to great lengths to fix up my hair, sticking in several pins and twisting the strands tightly to make it uphold the style she wanted-some sort of poofy bun updo with my heavy, thick bangs smoothed back, leaving my face clear and visible-and my scalped ached something fierce by the time she was done battling it and putting me through the damn wringer.
I barely recognized myself.
"Whoa," I spun a wild circle in front of the full-length mirror she'd set me by, then set my hands on my lilac obi, standing tall. "I look good!"
"You do," Emiko agreed faintly, dabbing her forehead with a lacy handkerchief. I didn't expect it would be so much trouble that it would make her work up a sweat. Made me feel a little guilty. "You're a lovely girl."
"Aha! Thanks." I grinned despite myself, feeling my cheeks warm at the tender, pretty much out of place, words. "You mean it?"
A rare smile crossed the woman's face, showing off the single dimple in her right cheek. "Yes, of course. Even when you're covered in mud or chicken feathers or paint. But I much prefer when you're all cleaned up like this." She straightened my collar before setting her hands on my shoulders and looking me dead in the eyes. "Now, you'll behave yourself, won't you?"
"Sure!"
Emiko's smile broadened a tiny bit, and there was a little edge to it. "Good. Because if you don't, you'll never find anyone and you'll end up marrying Shisui."
"Wha-what?" I choked. Wait to drop that bomb-had she been plotting something with Kou this entire time? I wouldn't doubt it. "He's my cousin, Mom! You're kidding, right?" Scary thing was, I was pretty sure she was serious. Clan purity, clan purity!
"Ohoho, I don't know, am I?" she hummed, looking away without a care in the world.
"That's evil! You're evil!"
Her head snapped back towards me as her terrifying Mom-mode flared up. "Excuse me, young lady?"
"I-I said I'd be good, okay!? Just don't drop me into that pit of incest-this isn't some kind of harem fetish anime!"
I didn't actually say that last part. No matter how badly I wanted to.
But, for the record, I'd totally (hypothetically) marry Shisui in a heartbeat if:
a) he wasn't so young, which he always would be since I had something over a twenty-year head start, and:
b) he wasn't blood-related.
I mean, how many people like me could actually say they'd married a semi-important canon Uchiha?
It'd be a pretty sweet deal.
The only problem with this brilliant scheme was that no one wanted to marry me. My reputation was just that bad.
I was sure I'd attended at least five meetings in one week alone, with generic, young and dimwitted, snot-nosed boys like Jin and Kei and Saburo and Aki and Hikaru-all brats.
Any other time, I probably would have been a little offended. But, on the other hand, maybe I shouldn't have bullied all the kids and chased them around trying to kiss them just to get them to leave me alone when we were younger. Turned out that had a heavy hand in their aversion to me.
No one wanted to date Cootie Rika.
But, most importantly, their parents didn't want my bad influence let loose in their households.
Uchiha Rika was a name that generally struck terror through the hearts of any self-respecting parent in the whole compound, likened to a plague. For me, it was more like a blessing.
Not a minute after the fifth meeting came to its long-awaited end, I ditched Emiko and Satoshi to go out and have some fun, celebrating my status as a forever-single little lady. I really would have killed for some alcohol, but, well-emphasis on little.
My parents didn't even keep any sake in the house. Somehow. If I were them and had a rowdy kid like me, I know a full liquor cabinet is the first thing I'd splurge my rainy day fund on.
The only option remaining was to visit one of the local cafés and get hyped up on sugar and tea with what little allowance I had in my pocket.
I didn't expect to run into a familiar face when I walked into the small shop.
After putting in my order, I dropped down onto the bench beside the solitary boy and smacked my hand against his back. "Itachi! Long time no see." His muscles immediately tensed up and if he was a cat I'm pretty sure his fur would be standing on end. Maybe he'd even jump away in shock if he didn't have such great control of his reflexes. Don't think the kid had ever been spazzy in his entire life.
I wasn't sure what startled Itachi more-the fact that I'd spoken to him out of nowhere and interrupted his peace, or the fact that I was dressed up so fancy. Hell, he might not have even recognized me. That would explain the deer-in-headlights look about him. Maybe he thought I was one of his many admirers-the kid was a heartbreaker and he didn't even know it because he was so damn polite. Girls swarmed on the sidelines, never quite approaching but longing from afar while he remained oblivious. But, surprisingly, he wasn't as popular as Shisui.
Damn Uchihas.
If only to ease the boy's nerves, I pulled one of the pins from my hair and let my bangs fall over my eyes in spiky chunks, grinning wide all the while.
"Rika," he breathed out, visibly relaxing. Then he took a second to observe my get-up and his eyebrow quirked up slightly-just barely. "You look nice. What's the occasion?"
His words were innocent, sincere. He was only eight, but already he'd become more mature than most of the other clan kids-me included. My eyes briefly flicked towards his forehead protector before I gave a shrug. "Just came from a meeting thing. Umm..." I still couldn't remember the proper term and squinted as I thought, waving a vague hand. "Y'know, for marriage."
"Omiai?" he asked, mystified.
Right. That's what it was called.
"You're getting married?" There was a hint of alarm in his cool voice. Even for his standards, ten years old was way too young for that kind of thing, clearly. Glad he had a good head on his shoulders. And he didn't say it mockingly, either, like "you're getting married?" like Shisui no doubt would. Like ninety-nine percent of the entire compound would. So polite!
"No, no! I got rejected. Not like I wanna get hitched, anyway. Mom and Dad are just at a loss for what to do with me." I leaned my chin on my palm and frowned. "So, how's genin training going? Get a lot of cool missions and stuff?"
Itachi smiled faintly as he glanced down at his cup of green tea. "It's fine. I can't really discuss it much. Sorry, Rika."
"Nah, it's fine. I totally understand." The shopkeeper brought over a tea set and extra cup, as well as a serving of dango. "What about your teammates? Are they cool? Smart? Annoying?"
A pensive look fell across his face as he glanced out across the café. "I...like them."
I nodded, waiting for a more detailed reply, but he didn't continue past that. Maybe it was a touchy subject or he just didn't have anything else to say. He was young, after all-I wondered if his teammates were the same age or older. The thought that they might shun him or something because of his young talent occurred to me, but before I got mad I remembered his words. He did say he liked them and he didn't usually lie. Plus, if they gave him trouble he could definitely beat them up-not that he did things like that, though. Really, he was an incredibly peaceful and kind kid at his current age...
Either way, if I wanted to keep this conversation going I needed to change the subject.
"Well, what about fighting styles, then? I heard from Sasuke you're pretty good with kunai. He said..."
Our conversation drifted. It was idle talk.
But, I'd learned over the years that Itachi could actually get pretty talkative when I took the effort to get past his taciturn shell and wheedle some responses out of him-it helped when his brother came up in topic, too. He never did blather on, but he could carry his side of our little chats without trouble (but really all he did was listen half the time).
Speaking with him was always calming. Even if he still hid part of himself away.
It didn't really bother me anymore.
When the teapot dwindled down to its dregs and Itachi asked the shopkeeper for a refill, I rose to my feet and placed a handful of ryō down on the tabletop. "Well, I'm out. It was nice talkin' with ya, Itachi."
"Likewise, Rika." He offered me a smile and small wave as I made my way to the exit, but before I could set foot outside, he spoke again. "Oh-Shisui was looking for you."
"For me? Know where he is?"
"I don't."
"Ah, it's fine. I'll find him." I returned the wave and ducked out of the shop with one final grin.
It had been a good while since I'd last spoken with Itachi, but even longer since I'd had any contact with Shisui. His missions tended to be long, lately; I was also pretty sure he was slated to participate in the next chūnin exam. He was a busy kid. In fact, I was surprised he remembered me at all-after both he and Itachi became genin, I expected them to start hanging out more, training together and strengthening their friendship to the point where I just sort of faded away into the background like cousins tended to do. Seeing Itachi without Shisui at his side while they both had some down time was a strange sight, come to think of it.
Shisui was lingering near the outer limits of the Uchiha district, leaning against the gates and glancing idly up at the dusky evening sky with a dazed and sort of dopey look plastered to his face, totally tuned out of reality. For the way he was so distracted and with how differently I looked compared to usual, I could have passed him right on by and he wouldn't have batted even one of his well-defined eyelashes.
"Hey! Shisui!"
His gaze immediately darted in my direction and a grin stretched across his face. "Ri-" the grin fell, and he did a double-take. "...Rika?"
"The one and only." I set my hands on my hips and beamed. "Heard you were lookin' for me. Gonna apologize for ditching me all this time or somethin'?"
"No, I just..." his eyebrows furrowed and his face went a little pouty before a big, cheesy smile took over. "Hey, you look really pretty, Rika. What's up?"
Ah, turning the topic with compliments. Smooth. Real smooth.
I waved a hand casually and examined my short, bitten nails. "Mom and Dad had me attend some, uh-" what had Itachi called it, again? "-omiai things."
"Omi-omiai? Rika...what did you do that would make them resort to marrying you off?" Shisui quickly approached and set his hands on my shoulders, sighing. He made no effort to conceal his exasperation-he'd been too busy being a ninja to trail after me and pick up my messes lately, but the concern was still there.
I rolled my eyes thoughtfully towards the sky and began ticking off my numerous offenses on my fingers. "Well, there was the time I fished the koi in the river; the time I dropped Sasuke-but don't let him know about that; remember when I gathered up all the stray dogs and cats and set them loose at the shrine?; I nearly started a forest fire; I let Sasuke paint a mural of Itachi on the outer wall-wait, you never knew about that; um...I almost burnt down my own house; I accidentally cut some of Itachi's hair off-ah, you don't know about that either, do you? ; Then, once, I let all of the chickens loose... Oh, and there was that one time where I dyed everyone's-yours too, remember?-khaki pants fuchsia-"
He stopped me before I could really get on a roll. "Okay, okay. I get it; it's more like what haven't you done. Shouldn't have asked." His eyebrows drew together. "But...marriage? Who are you engaged to?"
I laughed and smacked him on the arm. "Are you kidding? No one wants to marry me. They think I'm knocked in the head. I got rejected five times!"
"Five...?" He mock-flinched, rubbing at his arm. "Well-"
"Don't worry about it. I'm only ten. There's plenty of time to think about that kind of thing later."
"You know, if you become a shinobi, you wouldn't have to worry about that stuff."
"Hey, I tried. I'm not cut out for that kinda training. Knocked in the head, remember?" I tapped my knuckles against my temple for emphasis.
Shisui eyed me strangely before shaking his head slightly. "Whatever, Rika. Anyway, there's something I want to show you. Come on!" Before I could protest, or even agree, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me along after him.
He led us into the forest where Kou taught us the Grand Fireball a few years ago and I had to hike up the kimono Emiko gave me a bit to keep its hem from getting torn on the underbrush. I'd grown to like the damn thing and I didn't want it getting messed up because it would be a bitch to fix. Plus, Emiko dyed the silk herself, just for me. If I let anything happen to it, she would probably cry.
Finally, after all the trees started to look the same and I lost my sense of direction which wasn't that great to begin with, he came to a stop near one of the small training grounds located within those woods. I'd never been there, myself, and for a moment I had to wonder if this was what he wanted to show me so badly that it couldn't wait until morning when it was lighter outside.
"What, did you bring me here to spar or something?" I joked, cracking an uncertain smile.
"Of course not. Look." He reached for his kunai holster and pulled out two before handing one over to me.
I held the weighty, combat-worn steel blade in both hands and pursed my lips before squinting up at the boy. "This...isn't sparring?"
"It's not, Rika. I promise." He turned his back on me and walked a few paces away before throwing a glance over his shoulder. "You can throw a kunai, right?"
"Yeeeah. Sato-Dad taught me." I gripped the knife in my right hand and tested its weight before flipping it over properly and grasping the wrapped hilt. Pretty nimble if I didn't say so myself.
"Great, thought so. Okay, throw it at me."
"Shisui, this is seriously starting to sound a lot like you want a fight. And it's getting dark; I can barely see. Can you even see?"
He sighed and turned to face forwards again, shoes shuffling in the grass. "Rika, just do it. Please."
Well, that was the magic word.
"Alright, alright. I'll throw it." I aimed the kunai towards Shisui's head-just a few centimeters off target, though, because who knew what could happen. I didn't want to end up hitting him and injuring him or having it ricochet off of his forehead protector and somehow boomerang back to my face by some brainless fluke. Then, like Satoshi taught me, with a quick flick of the wrist and a precise location for its trajectory, I let it fly.
My throw was off-really off-because of the awkward kimono sleeves I didn't bother rolling up. It sailed towards the space between his eyes and even though I knew he was more capable than I was and definitely could avoid getting hit, and god forbid dying, for a second I completely forgot how to breathe.
But-and I only picked this up shortly after the weapon left my fingertips-a flash of crimson appeared through the growing darkness and then the kunai I threw was instantly deflected by his own in a spark of steel, knocked aside and spinning uselessly through the air before landing in the dirt.
Oh.
Oh.
I stomped forwards and grabbed Shisui by the collar of his shirt, throttling him slightly. "Is that the Sharingan? You brought me out here to show me your Sharingan?! This was all totally unnecessary, Shisui! You ham!"
Stupid-stupid and reckless. Maybe I'd started to rub off on him with my bad influence because, really, what was he thinking...?
He grinned down at me, eyes still blazing red, and held his hands up in surrender, his dominant one still clutching a kunai. "Okay, you got me. I just wanted to show off a little-I haven't had the chance to show you yet." He paused. "...Pretty amazing, right?"
It was pretty amazing. Totally cool. I wasn't going to lie to him. Even if the implications were that he'd suffered through some sort of emotional, borderline traumatic events to awaken it and mature it-he was already through the final stage and three tomoe were present in each eye. Not pleasant, but something to be proud of within this messed up clan either way.
...Seriously, how batshit insane was it to lionize something that resulted from living through tragedy and suffering and all kinds of painful circumstances? Oh, congratulations! Someone you cared about might have died or been otherwise horribly wounded but here's your prize; you're a real winner!
Damn Uchihas.
Either way, it really was cool. I leaned in closer to get a better look at the swirling pattern despite myself. Dōjutsu were things I never understood, really-chakra in the eyes? Irises changing shape and color? Spinning? Things just didn't work that way where I came from, except, y'know, maybe with contacts. But these things were like magic. Ninja magic. And they really, really looked real. Little filaments and flecks of scarlet pigment, the deep darkness of the tomoe pattern... It wasn't a solid color like I always assumed it would be and there was a depth to it that I could nearly lose myself in. It was really...pretty.
Shisui's eyes widened and he leaned back a little. "Uh, Rika, you're kinda close."
"Don't be a baby, I'm just trying to get a better look. I've never seen the Sharingan up so close before. What can you see?"
He set his hands against my shoulders to keep me from leaning too far in because I had no respect for personal space when it came to curiosity and if I could I'd get close enough to see every little detail-I'd even go so far as to touch it if that wasn't so grossly unsanitary. Just how did all these nasties rip out others' eyes and stick them right in their own socket without following proper cleaning procedures? Much less proper medical procedures. Disgusting.
"Well, there's chakra flow, for one. It's all colored-"
"No way! What color's mine?"
"It's...kind of pink-ish purple," he provided, managing a small grin as I bounced on the heels of my feet and gave a smug nod of approval.
The prospect of having my own, personal chakra color was damn interesting even if I would never see it myself.
"It was weird to see at first, but now I'm used to it. Everything's a lot clearer, I can read movements easier, copy things..." he trailed off as soon as a frown crossed my face.
"Damn, now I want one, too." It was only a half-lie-I did want one, but I could do without the prerequisites.
I retreated a few steps back and sighed, turning around and looking up at the brightening stars. The sun had long since dipped past the horizon, leaving the area near-completely dark. A Sharingan sure would come in handy... but it was better to give up that pipe dream before it even began.
Shisui's muffled footsteps dragged across the grass as he retrieved his other kunai and then set them both back into the holster on his thigh. Then, he approached me and crossed his arms, watching me with an uncharacteristically serious expression. "Like I said, you could still become a shinobi. Then, chances are pretty good you'd get it, too."
"Why do you keep sayin' that? I already said I can't." I fidgeted with the ends of my kimono sleeves, straightening out the material that had gotten folded over, and watched him from the corner of my eyes with a frown. He was annoyingly persistent.
"I dunno, Rika, I don't really believe that." His stupid Sharingan remained active and it burned in the darkness, bright red. "I've been thinking about it for a while. Remember when we were practicing the Fireball jutsu with my dad?"
"Ah, yeah! I burnt my mouth kinda bad, trying that. Then I almost totally razed this forest down!" I grinned and forced a laugh.
"You did that on purpose, right?"
My grin dropped.
"Wh-what? Don't be stupid! Why would I try to commit arson intentionally? I mean, I know I like to make trouble, but I have limits with the law." Annoyingly persistent and perceptive. I knew he was smart, but could he really have noticed that...? At such a young age? I was just playing around, sure, but I didn't expect anyone to pay close attention to it...
I should have just kept on stubbornly refusing to learn the clan jutsus instead of letting myself show off a little just for fun; just to prove I could do it. My ego got the better of me and it had a way of coming back to bite me in the ass.
"I couldn't answer that. But you're also not bad at throwing kunai. Your aim is pretty good, Rika. And I don't think you're as stupid as you let on, sometimes." Shisui fell quiet, studying me with uncharacteristic doubt. "You seem like you have talent in all the right places for it."
Who knew I'd ever have to participate in a conversation like this? It was kind of painful. Maybe his Sharingan helped him to see right through me.
"Ah, really? I mean, I guess that's just your opinion." My lips spread into an uneasy smile almost automatically. "I'm glad you think so, though."
"...You're never serious, are you, Rika?" There was a sudden chill in his voice. A flare of irritation.
"Wha-why are you mad?"
"It's just a huge waste of potential, is all. If you-"
"What, you have a problem with me wanting to be a regular ol' civilian, Shisui?" Oh, now I was mad. And when I got mad, I got mad. Something like boiling liquid swirled and bubbled within, rising up, up, up, and knocked persistently against the lid I kept on my emotions before everything finally burst out and my temper got the better of me. I set my hands on my hips and drew myself up to my full height-not impressive or intimidating at all, but whatever. "It's not really any of your business what I do or don't do!"
"I-"
I reached out and prodded him in the chest with my index finger, scowling. "In fact, I think you know I'd suck, and you just want someone else to compare yourself to because Itachi's turning out to be so good he's already getting outta your league. I'm not gonna be some stepping stone for you, okay? I don't wanna be your crappy rival." Ah, I was really ranting, but when he brought up the subject, I couldn't help it.
Part of me really did want to try being a shinobi after seeing how fun it could be since it was a rare chance-no matter how strong I would get or how weak I might end up. But that lingering, certain fear that I would be living in Itachi and Shisui's shadows continued to hold me back. That, and I wanted to keep my friendships with them intact without an inferiority complex getting in the way. I knew I'd only end up getting jealous and come to really detest them if they always left me behind. They would probably see how worthless I was, if it came to that, and they'd stop associating with me altogether. I would lose friends; I didn't want that-not when they were so busy with their careers already.
Shisui cared about our friendship, too, clearly, but his outlook on the matter was just...impossible for me.
When I focused on him again, he was struck speechless, left floundering and wondering how to respond to the verbal onslaught.
Then, he looked mad. Livid. For a moment, I was afraid he'd react badly to my words and smack me for taking things a step too far, but he was Shisui. He wouldn't hurt a fly-enemy ninja, yeah, but nothing innocent.
He only said kind of dumb, thoughtless things sometimes and maybe I overreacted and said too much, too. But the damage was already done and the situation couldn't help but escalate because he was just a kid and we were both upset and not in the state of mind to think things through.
"Ri... Rika you moron! That's not what this is about at all! I showed you the Sharingan 'cause I wanted you to see what being an Uchiha meant, to maybe change your mind, but you-ugh!" He threw his arms out and sighed, shaking his head.
"Don't call me a moron, Shisui! You're the one who made up this stupid half-baked plan to try and impress me or whatever. And your Sharingan is still active-stop wasting your chakra, idiot!"
"I'm not an idiot! You're so dumb! If you studied our kekkei genkai properlyyou'd know it barely takes any chakra to keep it active. Jeez."
"Stop calling me names! I'm-I'm out of here. I'm going home!" I turned on my heel and stomped away, careful to keep my kimono hem from dragging on the ground.
"You... Rika, the neighborhood is the other way." Pretty sure I heard him smack a hand to his face and sigh, fed up with how stupid I was being-but so was he, so I didn't bother looking back.
"I don't care! I'm going, so don't try to stop me."
"Fine. Night, Rika!"
"Fine-" When I did turn around to have the last word, he was nowhere in sight. "Did you just Body Flicker away and ditch me?!" There was no response; I may as well have been talking to the trees.
I was alone.
In the middle of a dark forest.
That jerk left me there all by myself!
Somehow, I navigated through the forest and found my way home, just a little worse for the wear than usual.
"Rika! There you are. You just took off so soon earlier." Emiko rushed outside to meet me as soon as she spotted me walking down the road and plucked a few stray twigs out of my loose hair (it had long since fallen out of its cute bun), checking me over carefully like fusspot moms tended to do and I was hardly in the mood for it. "What happened?"
"Nothin'." I crossed my arms and, despite trying not to be upset, I couldn't keep my cheeks from puffing out in displeasure. I mean, sure, Shisui and I had petty arguments in the past over silly, stupid stuff, but he never up and left me smack dab in the middle of the goddamn woods before. Didn't he know my internal compass was total shit? I was pretty sure I walked in circles for about an hour before I spotted lights in the distance that led me back to civilization.
He could have left me a map!
"Is it about the marriage thing? Look, you know your father and I are only looking out for you. I'm sure we'll find someone who-"
"I don't care about that!" I threw my arms up before crossing them again, tightly, scowling. "Don't care."
Emiko breathed a quiet sigh and finished straightening up my hair and kimono before grasping my hand and tugging me along after her. "Let's just get you inside for now, then. I'm sure you must be hungry."
"No? I'm not-" before I could finish my sentence, my stomach growled loudly. Way to sell me out. "...Hungry."
She smirked knowingly but didn't acknowledge the sound. "I made your favorite. Meatballs."
"Good."
"You're not very excited," she sat me down on the porch so I could kick off my dirty sandals and then opened the door before shuffling me into the house. "Something did happen, didn't it? I saw Shisui a little while ago and invited him to dinner, but he refused-can you believe it? He refused! When does he ever do that? But now...I think I know why he did. You two had a fight, didn't you?"
"Who cares? I don't. And I don't want him here anyway."
"...You two definitely got into some kind of argument." Emiko pursed her lips as she led me into the kitchen and sought out a damp cloth to wipe down my dirt-smudged face-I did trip and fall a couple of times on my way home. Because it was dark. Not because I was a klutz.
"Doesn't matter."
"It does matter. You should make up with him as quickly as possible."
"Why?"
"Because he's your friend. He's family."
"He's justa jerk with a Sharingan, far as I'm concerned."
"He showed you his Sharingan?" Satoshi, who entered the kitchen as soon as he heard us, piped in, sounding impressed. "Kou mentioned he'd awoken it over a year ago. I'm surprised it took him so long to show you. You two used to share everything right away. But, he has been busy..."
By the way he spoke, all approvingly, even he was proud of Shisui for awakening his Sharingan. Always failed to mention the little trauma-clause involved in obtaining it, though. Maybe it was a taboo or something. Maybe they just didn't want to acknowledge it most of the time because it would scare away potential talent. Or it just hurt to think about. Either way, the pride he spoke with stung, like a dig at my own normalcy.
"Whatever." I scoffed, nudging my tabi-covered toe against the floorboards while Emiko continued to scrub the dirt off of my face.
Satoshi sighed. "Is that jealousy I hear, Rika...? You know, it's not too late-"
I turned on Satoshi and curled my hands into fists, frowning. "I'm not jealous! Why does everyone think that?"
"Rika, watch your tone," Emiko warned.
"Well how many times do I have to say it? I'm already ten; I'm way behind. If I did wanna be a shinobi I should be a genin by now." I tried to push Emiko's hand away from my face, but she gave me a warning glance that froze me in my tracks.
Satoshi hummed in consideration, stroking his chin. "I could train you. Kou always offers to help, too-you'd catch up in no time. And, say, if you were to become a shinobi, we could put this whole marriage plan aside..." he trailed off nonchalantly, with a shrug.
"Are you tryin' to bribe me, Dad?"
"N-no!" he sputtered, waving a hand dismissively and smiling nervously. "Of course not, Rika. But, there would be so many options for you, if you did."
Emiko finally ceased her fretting and put away the dirt-smudged dishrag. "I think it may be worth saying now that most of our neighbors don't want you taking over my job because of your... unique color senses, actually."
Just what kind of ordeal was this-most of the time, you'd think people would jump at the chance to become little ninjas and have to work hard at convincing everyone that they were worthy. Not the other way around. Everyone was practically chasing me into the lifestyle!
Damn Uchihas.
"I...Okay! Fine! I'll give it a shot again-but just a single month-and if I don't like it don't ever bring the subject up again. Alright?"
Satoshi's face lit up in the brightest grin I'd ever seen and he pumped his fist into the air in victory in a very Kou-esque manner. "Alright!" At Emiko's bemused look, he cleared his throat and set his hands back onto the kitchen table meekly, blushing. "Then, we'll start first thing tomorrow. You won't regret it, Rika!"
Oh, no, I was sure I would regret it.
How did I get myself into these things...?