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Great Lakes & Expectations chp 25
🕑 Added 2019-12-22 11:27:24 +0000 UTCRegina eyed the fish on her plate. Sure, it had been prepared in front of her, and sure, Shimura-sa---shishou didn’t seem likely to poison her.
She still had no interest in eating it.
The fish looked back with dead eyes. She wasn’t going to win this staring competition for sure. It was already dead, but she wished it ill.
“You are cautious with your food?” Shimura-shishou asked, attempting to affect some sort of paternal body language.
She had learned to immediately suspect that kind of thing. Usually, it preceded a series of uncomfortable requests, and ended with one of a sexual nature. Then she’d bolt. There was definitely a time in her life when that would have had her hook, line, and sinker. Having a shitty dad would do that.
But frankly, he was about eight years too late to completely get it over her head. She was sure she was vulnerable. Why would she not be?
But it wouldn’t be as easy for him at all, if it was an attempt at manipulation.
‘Unless this is a different brand of bullshit.’
Or assisted by chakra.
‘Men are maybe awful? Have we considered that?’
Yes. She had. That was why she was obsessed with sexy and stacked ladies like Tsunade. And the Inuzuka clan head. She was not opposed to men in theory or in aesthetics. But for all practical purposes they seemed to by and large be total garbage.
‘Except Gai, and Jiraiya- who’s regrettably still debilitatingly obssessed with sex. Gai might be the only good man in the world. Does he know? Should we get him an award?’
Oh yes, they were talking about food. Not about how she would hip-check this elderly man into a lava pit with no hesitation purely based on past experience.
“Sometimes.” Regina allowed. It seemed rude to let him know she just hated fish with a fiery passion. Especially when she was expected to ooh and ahh over the fact that it wasn’t cooked. She could get botulism or salmonella at home.
“Wise.” His tone was definitely approving. “Many people do not have your best interests at heart.”
‘What a weird and concerning thing to say after inviting me to a suspiciously-deserted restaurant, in which I was not allowed to order my own meal or drink.’
Regina reconsidered her earlier supposition that he would not have an interest in poisoning her, after inviting her publicly. It wasn’t like he’d told her to keep quiet about it.
“Rejina-chan.”
She couldn’t help it. She narrowed her eyes at him.
He just looked amused. “Rejina-hime, it is.” he barely paused. “There are those who will see you as a threat to be removed, whether you are or not. Therefore, you must learn to be as much or more.”
The logic followed, but his delivery still sucked.
“And how would you recommend going about this, shishou?” She asked, reasoning that pretending to be interested in the conversation would be an acceptable reason for not eating a hundred dollars worth of raw, judgmentally-staring fish.
Her grandmother would be unhappy with her for wasting food. But, she also never would have served Regina anything raw.
Shimura-shishou blinked at her, pleased. “I would recommend that you learn to surprise people.”
He tried a decidedly different tack than the Hokage. Where the Hokage seemed to draw from her connection to Jiraiya and let her take the initiative when it came to her ideas, Shimura-shishou wanted to draw out and understand every aspect of her education and experiences. He didn’t seem to give a single shit about her relation to Jiraiya, after noting that she’d only met him about six months ago.
‘And why do you know that.’
It bordered on being invasive. She didn’t like it.
To be honest, she didn’t love the Sandaime’s approach either. Couldn’t everyone just ask her questions about her relevant work experience and never ever ever discuss her personal life?
She started lying about some of it, just for the hell of it. None of it would contradict, anyway. She was in a country with no records of her. A universe with no records of her. It was just smarter to be honest about as much as she could, so that she could keep her lies straight.
She kept the facts basic. She was from Minnesota, the land made up of fields of beautiful wives.
Yes, she was twenty-one years old.
‘Oh shit, I’m actually 25. December is definitely over and done. I almost forgot that I celebrated a birthday while traveling with Shizune and Tsunade. Which is odd because we definitely ate a three-tiered cake and committed some sort of fraud. How did I forget that?’
She had studied for most of her life. She was interested in politics. She had had two half-sisters, who had been left behind.
Was she trained for any combat? No, but she’d done a significant amount of ballet dance (which he seemed mildly confused by) and ice skating. When she was very very very young, she’d been in tumbling classes.
He asked her more than her supposed father ever did.
‘You’d think Jiraiya would have tried to ask just to make sure our lies matched up, if nothing else.’
Regina took a sip of her water, while Shimura-shishou bemoaned her lack of shinobi training. He seemed to be angling towards blaming the Hokage for that- he must be under the impression that the Hokage had known about her all along.
‘Well, it’s just a series of massive lies anyway, who cares about my age in the scheme of things?’
He took a break from his earlier subject. “Did you have political aspirations?” Shimura-shishou asked. She noted he’d barely eaten, either.
“Yes, I did.” That kind of gutted her. She’d never get to even run for office in this hole.
He didn’t seem to find that off-putting. She thought that a lot of people didn’t like ambition in women.
If he didn’t, he certainly didn’t show it.
“Then why did you come here? You must know that you will never be a viable candidate for Hokage. You are no shinobi.” He watched her like she was under a microscope.
She resisted the sudden and violent urge to stab her food with a chopstick.
‘So you’ve said. Repeatedly.’
“I wasn’t given a choice.” she said. Regina hoped she sounded calmer than she felt. She tried to channel Mifune-sama’s utter lack of emotional delivery. “I was informed that my mother had died, and that I had to come live with my father.”
And none of that was a lie, technically. Regina couldn’t honestly say she knew her mother was alive, and Jiraiya couldn’t either. And she’d never had genetic testing done to determine her birth father, as it had never been a question.
The Hokage had been the one to strongarm her into Konoha. Maybe she was relying on too many technicalities, but it was supported by enough facts that no one would investigate too much and wonder how she appeared out of fucking nowhere.
“How unfortunate.” Shimura-shishou said. He was probably pretending to be disinterested. If he was actually bored, he would change the topic.
“It was.” Regina agreed. “I have spent most of my life in pursuit of a goal that is now impossible.”
If she was actually stuck here.
And maybe even if she got back to her own universe. There was no guarantee how much time had passed or hadn’t. She was very unclear on how the fine arts worked.
He actually looked sympathetic, which seemed off-brand from what she knew of him. Wait. He had expressly disobeyed an order from the Hokage, who was his peer. And he’d definitely been talking some shit when he’d left that meeting earlier and now. Was it too ridiculous to assume he had ambitions, as well?
It would have explained that blast of cold air when he took the head of the room opposite the Hokage. And why he was such a colossally important pain in the ass.
He might actually be sympathizing with her. Maybe pressing on that topic would be good…?
“In my birth country, it would have been hard to succeed in my ambitions.” She tried to sound like it was offhand. “There has never been a woman leader of my country, though we have had more than forty. However, many of the former leaders have been…”
She curled her lip in distaste, thinking about some of the boys and then men she’d encountered in her pursuits- who she’d studied with, worked with, and competed against.
“Not up to the standards I would have to meet to be considered.” She said, definitely a little bitter. She’d had so many boring, incompetent men underestimate her. More than once, they’d been so butthurt about losing that they’d accused her of cheating. They just assumed they’d win, whether they deserved it or not.
She chanced a look at her proposed mentor.
He seemed to be thinking- his eye was focused on her with extreme intensity. She could see him calculating her worth in his eyes. But maybe, for once, it was about her real merit. And not who she wasn’t or wasn’t related to, or her potentially manipulable situation.
She hoped to god it was that.
It probably wasn’t. But she hoped anyway.
“You would try regardless.” It was a statement, and not a question.
She cocked an eyebrow despite herself. She hated that- the left one was always rising almost of its own volition. She was going to wrinkle horribly on the left side of her face.
‘I wish I knew how to freeze it. Botox? The things I do in the name of vanity.’
Plus, anyone could read her damn thoughts when she did that. That or they horrendously misread her when her eyebrow got stuck and it looked like she was smirking all the time.
‘Stupid face.’
“Try what?” she took another sip of water. She was gonna be very hydrated. Or potentially- very poisoned. It wasn’t worth getting all worked up about. If he was gonna kill her, it would be pretty easy to actually do. He’d just have to be willing to suffer potential consequences or contrive a solution that would make her death not a problem. It was the consequences of her death or disappearance that all but guaranteed her safety- not any innate ability to survive.
He raised his own eyebrow to match hers.
“You would attempt to achieve your goals here, with or without competence in the shinobi arts.”
‘Well, yeah. Except the Hokage part. I don’t particularly fancy being an assassination target with an ugly uniform.’ That’s basically what she was doing with the police reforms. But wasn’t that what he was asking? If she was going to gun for the Hokage job?
‘I don’t feel like being murdered, possibly by you, the Hokage, or those other two goblins I met the other day. I don’t like how many Hokage candidates are dead as doornails, and I don’t know who’s doing it.’
“I don’t know, Shimura-shishou.” She blinked. “I am unsure of how that could be done, without shinobi training. Though I have not been here long.” She ducked her head. “Please forgive my lack of understanding.”
“It’s quite alright.” He was pivoting back to the fatherly kind of approach. “That is why you need a mentor. For direction.”
He poured tea, and did something to it with chakra. Then he took a sip.
“Do you know how steel is tempered, Rejina-hime?”
She shook her head. She knew some theory. Iron was mixed with something, it was heated… something something strong metal. Oddly enough, that kind of thing didn’t really pop up in her readings on political theory or mission creep.
“The iron ore is smelted until all impurities are removed and carbon is added, to give it strength. To use it, we douse it with fire and hammer it to its purpose.” He set the cup down on the table and looked at her. “A weapon is made with time, and care. It requires someone to remove its weaknesses, strengthen its natural properties, and give it shape and an edge.”
The implication was obvious. And probably overused. Hadn’t he already gotten her as his little apprentice? What was the sell here?
‘Also, what is with everyone basically calling me a tool? Is that a compliment here, or an insult?’
“As your shishou, that will be my duty.” He gestured lightly with his finger, and waitstaff immediately removed their plates.
She’d gotten away clean without eating fish, at least.
“I am glad to see that you immediately moved to take my advice as to your deficits in decorum and cultural knowledge, as befits your station.”
She had not... told him about that. That felt creepy. But it wasn’t exactly like her movements were secret.
Regina felt a little frozen, but willed herself to relax.
He stood, using a cane to push himself up. It looked awkward. She didn’t remember him having that last week, either.
She wondered really, truly, what kind of person to whom she’d gotten herself apprenticed. Was he out there getting injured on missions? There was so much she didn’t know, but she was really sure he was retired. Was it a health issue? Why did he know so much about her timeline of arrival? He hadn’t asked.
“Your training with me will begin soon. I will send a message to your at your office regarding our next meeting, Rejina-hime.”
He bowed, and left.
Regina looked around. The restaurant was still deserted except for silent waitstaff.
She gathered herself, and followed him out the door and into the night. It had to be at least 10pm.
‘That’s way late for a couple of kids to not be in bed.’
She winced. She really was shit at parenting.
So Regina hustled to the hospital, and was gratified to find Sasuke asleep. His homework was stacked neatly by the bed, and there was a folded note on the table. Someone had drawn a turtle on it. There was glitter on its back. She assumed that part was Naruto’s input.
She opened it.
“Rejina-hime,” it began.
“Thank you for attending my latest competition with my Eternal Rival. I have taken Naruto-kun home, so that he may sleep as much as possible before he must go to the Academy tomorrow. I write this so that you will not panic at his absence.”
“Your Friend,
Gai
The Green Beast of Konoha
And Fellow Chadou Student”
Well okay, then.
Regina nuzzled Sasuke for a moment, giving him a kiss that definitely left some red lipstick on his forehead.
Eh. He’d know she cared. That, or he’d think some other strange woman was giving him motherly attention in his sleep. That was actually kind of concerning, now that she thought about it. She moved to rub it off-
He moved a little, though, and opened his eyes.
“Hey buddy.” She whispered, “just stopping by before I go to bed. How was your night?”
“Slept.” He yawned. He stretched his little body, and curled up closer to her. “How were your meetings?”
She groaned. “I may have made an elderly Hyuuga lady angry with me for life, I met Gai-san’s friend, and I now have a shishou.”
“Busy.” Sasuke mumbled. “Too busy.”
“Always.” She said, “But hopefully everyone will decide I’m boring soon, and it’ll stop.”
His chest rose and fell with his breaths. Sasuke seemed to be pretty calm. That was a good change. He wasn’t angry, and he wasn’t afraid.
‘We’re thinking only positive thoughts.’ She instructed herself.
“I’ll be back tomorrow.” She promised again. At least she wasn’t breaking any promises she was making them. That was a very good thing.
Sasuke rolled over, so that he could look her in her face. “When can I come back with you?”
She didn’t know. She said so.
“I have absolutely no idea. I was told you’d probably need to stay here for a week, because I can’t watch you around the clock.” She pushed out her lips and tried to think. “Two days is way short for you to leave. Do you want me to ask?”
He nodded.
“It’s depressing here.”
‘I think you’ll have a different set of complaints, sharing a bedroom with Naruto. But I’m not sure that’s worth saying right now.’
“Anything I can do to make it less depressing while you are here?” She asked.
He scrunched his little face up in thought. But moments passed without any response.
“You can tell me next time- or write them down for me, when you think of something. Would you like other visitors?”
That got a quick shake of the head- well, at least he knew what he didn’t want.
“Got it. No visitors. Love you, good night.” She said, gently extracting herself from his bed. He looked so small by himself.
Maybe… bigger stuffed dinosaurs? Or his own bed.
She should maybe go see the building contractors to make sure bedrooms for them fit into her plans. They’d need their own space.
Naruto was snoring loudly in her futon, not his.
‘Adorable little shit. Bet he thinks that means I have to wake him up to go to bed.’
But it wouldn’t hurt, probably. He had been alone before- he might just be worried that she wasn’t coming back.
He was clutching her pillow awfully tight.
Regina changed into her pajamas quickly after washing up- that dirt had gotten absolutely fucking everywhere. Her hair was still wet, but she didn’t feel like staying up another hour to blow-dry it.
So she towel-dried it as much as possible, then braided it around her head. It wouldn’t help it dry faster, but it would be less inconvenient.
Then she turned off the light and budged Naruto over to get in bed. He seemed to wake up just enough to register it was her and attach like a barnacle.
‘Yeah, whatever. I’ve had worse sleeping pals.’
She wondered where Shizune was right now. Probably sleeping in her own blanket burrito.
Regina thought about the bundle of letters and horrifying sharp hair ornaments Shizune had given her. She’d need to read them and learn how to put weapons in her hair.
Tomorrow. She’d do it tomorrow. Tomorrow Regina was better than Today Regina.
When Today Regina woke up, she noticed that something heavy was pressing on her bladder.
‘Oh. It’s one of those children things I’ve heard so much about.’ She registered the snoring lump blearily, squinting to look at the clock to determine if it was human hours yet.
It was 6:30. Ugh. She had to get up.
“Come on monkey, it’s time to wake up.” She jostled him just a little as she sat up. He fell off of her, but her arm wrapped around his torso kept him from fully hitting the ground.
“Breakfast?”
The Hokage called her in shortly before she left that day, after Hatake had stalked out of his office again.
‘I wonder why they’ve been having so many meetings lately.’
She walked in cautiously. Judging by Hatake’s mood, whatever it was hadn’t gone well. The Sandaime bade her to close the door immediately.
She did, activating the privacy seals that she needed to ask him how to make.
“Yes, Hokage-sama?” She asked.
He exhaled in relief. “Yes. Rejina-hime, that’s the third meeting Hatake-san has scheduled with me to protest his ANBU reassignment.”
“Ah.” She hadn’t taken those meeting requests- Keiko-san had taken most of those duties back when the Sandaime had put Regina on the police department/funding projects as well as helping with the mission assignments. “I’m sorry to hear that. I assume this is what you meant when you said that this would be a continuing issue.”
“Not anymore.” He waved his hand. “You know the list of persons to be kept out of my office?”
Oh yes, she did. It was basically her new shishou, his other two counselors (why were they still employed by the city then?), and about five nobles from Fire Country.
“Put Hatake on it for the time being. I’ve explained to him that I won’t be changing my decision, but he just refuses to hear it. I cannot have the same meeting over and over again.”
‘Especially with how busy we are.’ Regina grimaced. That was why Keiko-san couldn’t get in enough meeting times today for clients? Hatake was throwing a royal fit?
“I’ll take care of it, sir.” She assured. “I’ll make sure they know to refer him to me from now on.”
He didn’t bother to make any sounds as he stalked up to the desk. He stopped when he was closer than was polite. The civilian woman gave a small, sharp inhalation when she noticed him. That obvious reaction made it very clear that she chose to ignore him, keeping her eyes trained on whatever she was writing.
He leaned forward, casting a shadow over her notes.
Without missing a beat, she shifted the paper a few inches to the side to put it back in the sunlight.
Kakashi gave a put-upon sigh. “Jiraiya-hime,” he allowed.
“Oh, Hatake-san.” She looked up at him with a professional smile. “How can I help you?”
“I need an appointment with the Hokage,” he said. He didn’t leave any room for argument in his tone.
“I see,” she said. Her tone was pleasant, but her accent was still a little hard to understand. “Regarding?”
He whipped his prepared notes out of his back pocket and unfolded them on the desk. “I think that this helps outline my position on my recent reassignment and why I believe it could and should be reconsidered.” He gave her his most charming smile, eye crinkling.
She pulled the paper over and picked it up to study it. It took her quite a long time to read it. She tilted her head slightly to the side. She pinched her lower lip between her teeth. She held her breath without seeming to know it. “Hatake-san,” she said slowly.
“I have a very good argument,” he said defensively. “If you look at my statistics, you’ll see that I was an asset to the program. I successfully completed missions at a rate higher than the average. My performance has only been increasing. However, my missions before joining that program had this performance rate.” He pointed at the relevant percentage, buried in the third paragraph.
Her eyes followed his finger. She narrowed her eyes in concentration.
‘Can she read my handwriting?’
“And since rejoining the standard mission rosters, I have had 7 complaints filed by clients about my performance. I have yet to fail a mission, but 3 of 24 have exceeded the projected timelimit, which is worse than the average jounin, who can expect about 3 complaints per year and a lower rate of delayed missions. In addition-”
“Hatake-san, you’ve already had this meeting, and these materials need to be reworked,” she interrupted.
He blinked.
“This is just a mess. You have some good information here, but it’s inaccessible. Bring it back to me in a format that is less heavy if you want to meet with him about this again.”
A less ‘heavy’ format? He didn’t let his face show any confusion. Dense? Did she not know the word ‘dense’?
“You should use graphs comparing your performance over time, as well against peers to illustrate your point.” Jiraiya-hime picked her pen up and scrawled a box in the margin of his paper.
He winced.
She made a series of dots in the box and then connected them with a line. And then she did the same thing slightly higher. “Compare like this,” she said. No. That was an order.
He felt his brow furrow.
“Ano, saaa.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I think it’s fine.”
“It isn’t.” She said it decisively. And then she held his paper out.
He did not take it.
She tilted her head slightly. She raised an eyebrow.
It was not intimidating. He did not move.
She sighed, pulled the paper back- and threw it in the garbage by her desk.
What.
He controlled a sudden flinch and bit down anger at the casual rejection.
“Thank you, that’s all.” And then she went back to her work, silver hair slipping down to cover her face as she bent down to frown slightly at something.
He gritted his jaw. He took a long, controlled breath. And then he fished the paper out of her garbage and went home to workshop it.
On Saturday morning, Naruto practically dragged Regina out of bed and to the hospital at 8am, excitedly jabbering about what he’d planned to do with her and Sasuke today. Evidently they were going to start by breaking him out of the hospital, training, and taking Sasuke out for some ramen as soon as Teuchi-san opened.
She wasn’t sure about the logic of this plan, especially as the hospital wanted to hold Sasuke until Monday morning, when she’d have to leave work at 10am to go pick him up and bring him back like a purse dog.
Regina was also unsure of the logic of that plan. The Tower was probably just as boring and depressing as the hospital, and likely wasn’t that much of an improvement.
“Please, kaa-chan?” Naruto whined, tugging at her arm. “Sasuke-kun is so bored here. Just for today, kaa-chan.”
She also didn’t know how she felt about the title Sasuke and Naruto had worked out. Though it did seem to be a decent combination of ‘mom’, without the honorable ‘o’ in front, and a more familiar ending instead of ‘san’. It was probably good? It suited her better than a very formal ‘okaasan’. ‘Oneechan’ just seemed weird, given her legal relationship to them.
But it did net her some big stares from disapproving older people in the hospital lobby.
To be fair, their approval meant absolutely nothing to her.
With that in mind- “Okada-san,” she called, catching sight of the nurse she’d met before. “Would we be able to take Sasuke-kun out for a few hours?”
Okada-san smiled, and went to pull out some paperwork. “Let me check what his reports say, and we can see.”
Naruto was fidgeting with excitement, tapping his feet and mercilessly squeezing her hand over and over again. He was about to blow.
She looked around. The lobby was filled with patients talking with visitors, people waiting to see doctors, and families. Many of them looked the worse for wear- she distinctly saw several of them waiting with blood-soaked clothes. She couldn’t tell what their injuries were, or if they had any.
‘Yikes again. I don’t know what I’d thought I’d see in a hospital in a shinobi village.’
“Naruto, would you go and see if Sasuke is awake? I’ll be there in a minute and I’ll let you know if he can leave.” Regina suggested, hoping to prevent his enthusiasm from triggering a spook-related heart attack or kunai throw. Ninja seemed to be twitchy.
He let go of her hand and bolted down the hallway.
‘If Sasuke wasn’t awake, I suspect he will be shortly.’ She thought with some mild amusement. Naruto wasn’t terribly patient.
“Danzou-sama!” Someone called.
Danzou tried not to scowl and kept walking. He had to walk so much a day or his physical therapist would throw a fit. He didn’t want to talk to anyone when he was contemplating his imminent mortality.
“Danzou-sama!” The voice was closer now. It sounded like it was coming from a child.
They were going to catch up anyway. There wasn’t much he could do for it unless he felt like shunshining. It wasn’t particularly dignified for him to do so at his age.
Danzou stopped.
“Danzou-sama!” There was panting behind him, and then a flash of color in front of his face. A young man stood where the walking path had been clear a millisecond earlier.
‘The youth only become more rude with every year that passes.’ he thought sourly. ‘I would have never presumed to walk in front of an elder like this.’
“I’m such a big fan!” the boy said, holding out his arm. “Of alllll your work. The treason, the genocide- I really love your ingenuity with genetic tissue theft.”
‘What?’
“We’re going to enjoy working together, Danzou-sama.” the boy said cheerfully, flash-stepping closer and forcing eye contact.
Danzou didn’t even have the time to activate his Sharingan.
Comments
Omirao
Oh, shit!
ElectricMaehem
I don’t teach there but I think in elementary school, personalname + kun, chan is standard. Not using “kun” or “Chan” is much cutesier and more intimate. At this age and stage, Naruto is being normal. He’s not an inherently rude or bad little kid, after all, and he also doesn’t feel particularly close to Sasuke (so he wouldn’t drop the suffix).
