“Mikoto Sho- usel-”
It started as a whisper. Like dregs on a heartbeat in the wake of a nightmare. Years of skill, and a focus blessed by the night caused her to coil upright. At the edge of her mind, a stirring could still be felt. A sixth sense that spoke trespass on her family.
A shadow drifted around the door, and pooled beneath the front door. Slowly, but steadily it crept its way down the hall.
Mikoto came to her feet, freshwater and a resolution of the night on her mind. She noticed the shadow coating half of the floor, and became guarded. A minor adjustment in her chakra, and the sparse light concentrated as though lit by a minor fireball.
Cold dread of the unknown filled her, as the shadow extended onto walls and fixtures. She reached for a sword that wasn’t there, and even then, her mind struggled to confront an ambush. She put on a brave face, and drew strength from her household.
“Mikoto. Uchiha?” From the shadow that filled her vision, a dim hue emerged. To feint to make out form, yet the space around it shifted with each word. Mikoto felt her sword appear in her hand as it spoke. “Promise. I promised Uzumaki Kushina that her history would not be forgotten. I promised the Echelons of the leaf a treasure of steel in exchange for sanctuary. I promised my peers to protect the souls of this world.”
Mikoto flinched when her sword began to glow. She was skeptical that it would work against a shadow, and now a foreign light painted a target to it.
“Secret sword one: spontaneous combustion. Sol ether blade - Reaper of blood pacts. I offer you this as an invitation. Draw on your familiar, call upon the spirits. I will answer, even in your darkest hour.”
Mikoto implored, although the words sounded muffled to her ears, “Who are you?”
The shadow chuckled, “I am merely a shadow before the sacred tree. May love ward you, monarch resonance.”
Flames leapt from the blade as the shadows converged around Mikoto. A sheet wrapped around her arm, and a moment later her eyelids flickered. Her body stirred to wakefulness, and as the warmth of the bedding surrounded her she realized all was not as it seemed.
Astral Console.
Shadow “You are not the only one to wield the blade of fate, Jack. The elements will arrive to this world in turn, but I will sooner see it turned against our own than inspire malignance in this one.”
Jack “You’re late shade. Short of sowing the seeds for your campaign, you will have to compromise like everyone else.”
‘Shade’ “If you want a war, so be it, but I do not believe that any of you are prepared to contend with that.”
Storm hawk, “Perhaps a challenge is in order.”
“Oh lord, It’s the chunin preliminaries all over again.”
Shade frowned, “You wanted to give that Gaara kid a run for his money. This seems like an opportunity.”
“Because she’s a background equivalent. Yes, I’m riding on the slipstream here, but I’m not prepared to-”
Jack, “What does the serpent say to this? All for the attempt?”
Four hands raise, although the Author presses his brow, “Given time-”
“All things will be realized.” The storm hawk finishes, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a Hyuga grazing my tail feathers, and a recruitment mission to attend to.”
Jack sighed, “It’s just one big massacre compilation out there.”
Shade huffed, “Not if we have something to say about it.”
“What’s that for mother?”
The next morning, Mikoto was to take inventory of the family’s ‘survival rations’. Given the situation, it was a perfect excuse to dust off her old tools. Namely, her ninjato. It was with a start that she discovered a black flame pattern in the ripple of the steel and serrated teeth along the razor edge.
It had never been a staple of her career, but Mikoto could say with confidence that it wasn’t the same blade she put away when she became a housewife. Needless to say, as if any member of her clan saw it leave the sheath, they’d wonder how she got her hand on a minted Ninjato.
Of course to the curious eyes of her youngest, Sasuke, It was one clue that he really shouldn’t have been bothered with.
“A bit bold isn’t it? This is a keepsake from a time before you were born. Just like you, I’m trying to connect with the ninja way.”
That was more than enough to placate the boy, and Mikoto chuckled as he marched off with the tune of his elder brother under his lips. He was hopelessly single minded in that regard. Maybe a touch more than healthy for him.
It did bring into question her reasons for bringing it out in the first place. Carrying a sword around on a daily basis wouldn’t do for a litany of reasons. What purpose would it serve if not a perceived threat.
That brought her back to the sentiments that preceded the blade. A familiar edge, spirits? Between shady intruders and a swapped sword, such practices should have been far removed from her attention.
And yet she found herself in a secluded yard all the same. Sword drawn, with a mix of tentative stances and precursory examinations. Her apprehension gave way to habit, and through that an intense focus. The future of her family was at stake, and lately it seemed that the police force had one ‘contingency’ after another.
Day after day, she found more and more incentives to subtly nudge the household away from this tension. Her family. Her children-
Reflected over her sword, Mikoto caught a glimmer. More than light, a feeling wove through the sword, into her chest, and out through the middle distance. It wasn’t just an illusion. Examining the sword in a new light Mikoto raised it out. Rather than starting a form, she composed the chakra within her arm, and adjusted it just slightly. There was a slight tug, and then - like activating the sharingan - a presence in her chakra. It flowed through her fingertips, and in the intervening space between her arms. Across the blade, a sheath of chakra formed around the blade, adapting the traits of her affinity.
Chakra metal-?! A treasure of steel. What could this have to do with a dream? Forget the clan. If there was mention of such a thing existing, The Hokage himself might just show up.
In the wake of her chakra, a script appeared along the temper. To gather the spirits - Once and forever transformed.
The sword clattered to the ground, as Mikoto stepped back and brushed her hair aside. It sounded like a contract, and as an unwitting party she couldn’t let it slide. She milled aimlessly for a moment, and then glanced at the sword on the ground. It was too exposed like this. Even her own emotions betrayed her, and the situation was precarious enough as it was.
Returning to its sheath, and wrapped within a dated copy of the district layout, Mikoto locked the sword away. Its trial run was brought to an end.
Itachi was out on a mission, and Sasuke would have gone off to school again. Now, alone with her thoughts, Mikoto was looking for fresh air. Grabbing a basket of laundry as she went, she made her way out into the district proper.
Little did she know, her movements, and those of her family were being watched. A cautious and meticulous hand retraced her steps. Meanwhile, within the cabinet, a dense aura extended about the sword. It’s resting place would not be disturbed. Not if the whole of the sixth paths descended upon it.
Those deft hands probed the deepest folds of the cabinet, even removing the schematic from it’s pipe, before returning everything as they found it. Down to the last leaf of paper and fiber of cloth, they left no trace.
I keep my promises. Even those made by proxy, beheld forever. Veil of the trove.
Unraveling itself from the pages of the map, the sword settled back into place.
The last of the textiles rustled into the basket. It was a mundane task, but suitable enough for a casual distraction. Mikoto split an hour of wandering around the district in half. Occasionally stopping to greet other housewives or neighborhood patrol.
Was it sad that the Uchiha police seemed only half as proud in their own home?
There would always be work to be done around the house, but Mikoto had other errands to run in the village. With any luck, she might sniff out a potential client for her clan, but it was always a breath of fresh air to socialize in town.
Those who would have her anyway. The political pressure was getting worse, and even those who weren't swept up by it struggled to spare time for the mother of two. Still, Mikoto had a few people she could rely on, and made arrangements to catch up with old acquaintances.
As if. These days ‘courting favor’ was a stretch in its sincerest form. Civil was keeping business as simple and unassuming as possible. One thing that Mikoto did notice was that the ninja were getting younger again. More nameplates and chunin vests.
Far more of the latter than there should be in a population strain. Something was rising to a boil inside the village. It was ominous without knowing that her clan would be digging their heels in the next few months.
Something was going to spill, and hopefully it wasn’t the trade arrangements. Mikoto paused mid thought, as hidden apprehensions made themselves known.
Oftentimes, It’s important to wait and see. To give opportunities the time to appear and come together. The presence of mind is often the one with the same to obscure advantages. But even now and then, a precious moment can only be found by taking a stand.
“Ward yourself in love…” Itachi had a meeting in town this week. There was a place not far from here that her own circles had used to hold correspondence.
Allowing her thoughts to wander, Mikoto found that she could get most of the way with little more than intuition. The streets became increasingly familiar, and - soaking it in - she eventually found herself one Uchiha Anbu. The animal mask was tucked deep within the hood of the standard issue black ops uniform. It was never linked with his identity, even among his family.
There were a few that would no, in the intelligence department, and fewer still in the clan who had a clue for emergencies.
Itachi always had an air of calm about him. A relaxed expression that hid his emotion deep beneath the surface. Even Mikoto, who could tell whenever he became emotional, knew it was a coin toss despite all that she knew about him. He had a good heart within that shell. If only he’d led the kind of life that would allow him to share it.
And yet, for once, in this place she could tell his reaction was one of surprise. Cut short in recognition, but she could see the light reflected in his eyes. It was surreal, seeing him in a place like this. He’d become such a fine shinobi.
“You’re here?” She asked.
Itachi didn’t react beyond moving his lips, “I didn’t think you knew this place.”
“Oh I knew it well, but that was a lifetime ago. I guess a good meeting place is hard to find.”
“You had your sword out earlier today.”
How- Had he been there for- Mikoto shook her head with a smile, “Sasuke told you.”
Itachi closed his eyes for a moment.
“It’s an interesting day. I do wonder, what with the chances of happening across you. Maybe I should play ninja more often.” Mikoto spoke fondly, but her smile waned. She wasn’t sure how, but Itachi seemed unusually reserved at that moment. In all her memory, she couldn’t quite place who he seemed like [Modern_footnote] Nah, that’s my shortage. [/Modern_footnote], “Hey, is something eating you?”
“You should go.”
Maternal instincts warred with her once honed senses. It saddened her to leave him, but reassured her. He wasn’t so detached as it might seem, “I’m proud of you, Itachi.” Those words crossed her lips on a breath that seemed a world apart. Indeed, it was a side - not only of him - but to the whole village that she’d forgotten existed.
It was such a little thing, and yet the world around her felt that much larger.
