Chapter 1091: 44
Chapter 44: Forty-Four
Chapter Text
CHAPTER FORTY- FOUR :
With the knowledge of the Chūnin Exams approaching in less then three months, Sansa had turned to her training with a new vigour.
There was no more D-ranks, only taijutsu training, weapons training, sparring and ninjutsu. Jiraiya worked her into the ground, taking advantage of the fact her enhanced healing meant that any strained or torn muscles disappeared almost as soon as the injury occurred. Even broken bones only took a day to return to rights if left to heal naturally– though Jiraiya was not that cruel.
Sansa would almost enjoy the ninjutsu training, if it was not for the upcoming Chūnin Exam hanging over the back of her neck, like the sharpened bite of steel of an executioner's blade. Her chakra felt as if it sang when Jiraiya taught her the handsigns to let the oceans within her become oceans in truth, the taste of salt on her lips as she breathed out a twisting column of water she could shape as she pleased, forming whips that could slice through trees or swirling vortexes of water that swallowed anything that would do her harm.
She also learned how to coax the moisture from the air, how to shape it into deadly senbon, kunai and arrows that perforated the targets in the training grounds, deadly even as the water sang with her chakra.
Sansa pretended she didn't notice Jiraiya's unease as he watched her; she remembered how Uzumaki Kairi had commanded the wind, the waves, the whirlpools, and as the water answered her call, as she wielded it, coaxing it into following her bidding, it felt right.
Mito was just as insistent in her training as Jiraiya, and although her sleep suffered for it, Sansa spent half her nights practicing her sealing under Mito's stern tutelage, channelling her chakra into new seals that blazed to life under her palms. Mito was also supportive of her learning water techniques. "I never learned much ninjutsu," she admitted, "and I was wind-natured, so the few techniques I do know are to do with air– but I do know this, my angel-fish," and here Mito smiled, sharp and dangerous, "over half of the human body is water."
And wasn't that a terrifyingly thrilling thought?
Sansa was impatient to add tessenjutsu to her training regime, but it wasn't until the next Council meeting that she was able to enact her plans for the war-fan.
She had sewn a new dress for the Council meeting, intending to make an impression for this one as she had her last; it was Westerosi style, pale, creamy sea-foam blue-green fabric draped in full, loose skirts that looped up at the back and cinched in at her waist, with wide, sharply-angled bell sleeves. Naruto had helped her style her hair back like a large conch shell, held in place with hidden pins, and she'd found a shade of make-up that almost matched her dress to line her cheeks but kept the Uzushio spiral the same bloody red.
Everything about the style was unusual enough by Konoha's standards that it drew attention, yet the dress was beautiful so none could turn their nose down at it, though some did anyway.
The Council meeting itself was an eventful one. Haruno Ayaka and the other civilian representative on the Council, Kichirō Masahiro from the banking guild, had been busy in the time between this one and the last, having come up with a list of demands from the various major merchant families and trade guilds that existed within Konoha, along with the civilian hospital and schools, and the orphanages. It was no less then Sansa had been expecting, though even she was impressed by how quickly they had moved, capitalising on the current political sway they had.
It was more or less settled now that there would be more civilians indicted to the Council; the current issue to be argued was just how many and which interested parties deserved to be represented. By the end of the session, it had been decided that along with the merchant clans and banking guilds, represented by Masahiro and Ayaka, there would be an additional six representatives, including for the civilian hospital, their social system, their school system, the local businesses, the local restaurants and the local tradesmen. Now, the arguments were over just who those representatives would be.
Most of the clan heads weren't happy, but Ayaka and Masahiro were very pleased and so was Sansa– the civilians wouldn't forget who had opened this possibility up to them, no matter how much they might wish they could considering their attitudes towards the 'demon brats', and while only time would show how how such an investment would pan out, Sansa hoped that she and Naruto would find themselves more welcomed in Konoha proper– and that she would find herself with more allies on the Council when the new members were elected.
When the meeting drew to a close, Sansa steeled herself for what would come next; she was taking a gamble here, she knew, but she needed to train with a tessen before the Chūnin Exams. To do that, she would need one custom-made for her that mimicked the tessen traditionally wielded by Uzushio's ruler– and nameless it might be, just as the gods of Uzushio were, the tessen was still all-too recognisable as an old, powerful weapon, one with a weighted legacy, to someone who knew their craft and for what she required,
Sansa needed the services of someone who knew their craft. She just didn't trust that any shinobi blacksmith store she went to wouldn't immediately report that she had approached them and what she had approached them with to the Hokage, who was certain to want to confiscate the tessen.
That was why she needed Haruno Ayaka's help.
"Haruno-san," she greeted the woman politely outside the Hokage Tower, bowing to her.
"Uzumaki-sama," Haruno replied with a bow of her own, slightly lower as was expected when greeting someone of a higher status. And oh, Sansa couldn't help her delight as she watched those around her make note of this, feeling the surprise-shock-interest-disgust rippling in the chakra of the various clan heads. She made note of those whose surprise was tinged with approval compared to those who were disgusted for future contemplation before turning her attention back to Ayaka, with what Arya called her 'court smile' on her face even as genuine delight glittered in her eyes.
She appreciated someone who could play the game as Ayaka did, acknowledging Sansa's status as higher then her own was an interesting move– merchants occupied an interesting position in social class of the Elemental Nations. Traditionally, they were seen at the lowest rungs of society, barely above shinobi, who as death-dealers were considered the lowest of the low along with 'entertainers', beggars, leather workers, executioners, and others who worked with death.
However, just as shinobi acquired status with the formidable power they wielded and subsequent wealth they gained through their selling their services as mercenaries, merchants too acquired new status through rising wealth and with their new wealth, strategic marriages into noble families.
This social mobility had shaken the rigid social class that had been maintained for so long and while some nobles still turned their noses up at merchant families and paid them little respect, referring to them and treating them as little better then common rabble, others respected them for their still-rapidly expanding wealth and influence across the Elemental Nations, as the most successful merchant clans were not restricted to one country, but expanded from one end of the continent to the other.
The Haruno merchants were one such clan; their Konoha branch was wealthy and well-connected, trading in many different goods and sponsoring many different businesses, and it was these connections that Sansa was hoping to utilise– and Haruno Ayaka's seemingly goodwill towards her was making her hopeful that it would be possible.
"I understand that the Haruno Clan have many connections with the local businesses of Konoha," she said lightly, with a pretty smile up at the woman, "should I seek to procure the services of a blacksmith whose skill lies in crafting weapons, preferably for a matter of– ah, discretion, would you have any advice for me?"
Ayaka smiled back at her, beautiful and glittering. "Would you care to walk with me, Uzumaki-sama?" she asked instead of answering. "It's a lovely day to visit the markets, don't you think?"
"And even lovelier to visit with the company of a friend," Sansa said, immediately understanding Ayaka's offer.
To be seen in Ayaka's company among the markets that bought and sold goods from the Harunos was no small boon from the other woman. It was an implicit approval that would make accessing any stores that traded with the Haruno Clan an easier task for her, one of the hated "demon brats", in the future, for none of them would wish to insult a Haruno, particularly not the sister of the head of the Konoha branch of the Clan.
Ayaka must be in a better mood following the Council meeting then Sansa had realised.
There was a certain hush that fell over the market as Sansa walked side by side with Ayaka. It would almost be entertaining, if it wasn't so pathetic. The people looked as if they wanted to chase her away as they usually tried, yet with Haruno Ayaka beside her, resplendant in her many layers of kimonos, chatting lightly as she walked beside Sansa with the grace of a noble, they didn't dare.
Ayaka eventually veered off from the market, leading them down a winding backstreet, stopping outside a building Sansa recognised from the sharp scent of smoke in the air alone to be the promised blacksmith. Sansa half-expected her to leave, now that she had fulfilled her favour, but instead Ayaka was first to step into the smithy and, slightly bemused, Sansa stepped in after her.
Inside was swelteringly hot. The smithy clearly wasn't intended for selling goods, instead its purpose was solely for their creation; tools lined the walls, half-finished pieces covered wooden benches and there was a door leading to where Sansa assumed the forge itself was located.
"Mamoru!" Ayaka called, "you have a customer!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" A gruff voice shouted, "stop being so pushy, Aya-chan!"
The door separating the shop-front from the forge was shoved opened so violently it hit the wall, rebounding off and almost slamming into the shuffling, scowling old man that stomped through, though he merely elbowed it aside. He was clearly related to Ayaka; his hair was grey but his eyes were the same sharp, sea-glass green as hers.
His scowl deepened when he saw Sansa beside Ayaka. "A kid?" he demanded. "What does a kid want?"
At least he wasn't complaining about her being a Jinchūriki.
"Uzumaki-sama, this is my uncle, Haruno Mamoru," Ayaka introduced the man, sounding mildly exasperated, but also as if she was accustomed to his eccentricities. "Uncle, this is Uzumaki Fuyuko."
Sansa bowed even though the man didn't and smiled politely at him. "A pleasure to meet you, Haruno-san," she said. "I require your services in making an unmarked replica of this," here, she pressed her hand against her forearm, activating the storage seal so she could remove the tessen.
Mamoru's eyes widened when he saw the seal on her arm. They widened further when he saw the tessen.
"I haven't seen work like that for a damn long time," he murmured, shuffling forwards and lifting the tessen from her with surprisingly gentle hands considering how calloused and burned his fingers were. "Not since Uzushio fell."
"I'm not strong enough to face the consequences of wielding her yet," Sansa said softly, appreciating the respect with which he was treating the tessen. "That is why I need the replica made. But it needs to be a perfect copy– perfect size, perfect weight distribution, perfect everything."
"Yes," Mamoru nodded, appearing lost in thought as he examined the tessen with the sort of reverence that such a weapon, such a legacy, deserved, "yes, I can do it." He turned his attention from the tessen to peer down at her, this time appearing to actually look at her, at her hair and the Uzushio spiral on her forehead. "Are you certain you can deal with the consequences of wielding her?" he asked gruffly. "She's no toy."
Sansa's eyes darkened. "They tried to destroy my people," she said, sharp and biting as winter, "they tried to erase our legacy from history. I'm going to prove they failed."
Mamoru nodded slowly. "Alright," he said. "Alright. I'll do it." Sansa felt a weight ease off her shoulders with his agreement, triumphant flaring within her.
"Thank you," she said. "How quickly can you have it done?"
"In a rush?" Mamoru asked, sounding gruffly amused now. Sansa smiled at him, her sharp teeth on show.
"The Hokage decreed that to have the Uzumaki officially recognised as a Clan, I must compete in the upcoming Chūnin Exams," she said, and she kept smiling even as she spoke in a voice as searingly cold as a winter blizzard. "I just discovered they are being held in Kiri."
Both Mamoru and Ayaka went still before her. Mamoru's chakra was a quieter thing, harder for her to feel, but Ayaka's was sharp and cutting as rocks under bare feet and she was furious behind her calm facade.
"Kiri, you say?" Mamoru said, voice low. He and Ayaka exchanged looks and then Mamoru nodded. "Come back in three days," he told her. "It'll be ready then."
Sansa agreed and when he named the price for his services, she didn't attempt to barter it down; it was high but still lower then she'd been expecting– she suspected Ayaka's influence– and she would pay whatever it took. Besides, the gods knew she had enough money for a rush order with all the D ranks Jiraiya had had her do.
"Thank you," she said after the money had traded hands. She thought she would feel uneasy about leaving Uzushio's tessen in someone else's hands, but she realised she trusted Mamoru. Or at least, she trusted that he would treat the tessen with the respect that Uzushio's legacy deserved.
"Don't die," Mamoru said in return. "Don't let the bastards win."
"I won't let any of them win," Sansa said, though with the sudden rage it was more of a wolf's snarl. "I'm not done with this world yet."
Mamoru was good to his word, not that she had doubted him. When Sansa returned to his shop in three days time, telling Jiraiya she needed to pick up an order, the replica tessen was ready.
It was a perfect mimicry to the Uzushio tessen, only instead of a raging ocean storm, the lacquered surface of the war-fan was a rich purple, for which Sansa suspected Ayaka's influence; purple was historically used by the ruling class of the Elemental Nations, only in the last two hundred years had it become legal for commoners to use and it still was associated with high-level officials, nobles and royalty– such as an Uzumaki princess.
On the front of the war-fan, on the rich purple surface, the Uzushio spiral slashed across in the same blood-spray style that Sansa styled across her forehead– only, this spiral was painted on in bright, shimmering gold.
Gold was the colour that symbolised the gods; it was the colour of their power and their mercy.
But the gods had no mercy– and neither would Sansa.
"It's perfect," she breathed, her heart beating quicker in her chest.
"She's as good as she can get for a rush order," Mamoru corrected her. "But she's still good work, of course– she's my work. Take her."
"Thank you," Sansa told him again, heartfelt and genuine, and Mamoru nodded.
Naruto loved the tessen too, when she showed him that evening. "You have ta pick a name for her," he insisted, his blue eyes bright with excitement.
"Let's call her– Shion," Sansa decided.
"Shion?" Naruto asked curiously. "Like the flower?"
"Like asters," Sansa agreed, thinking of the starry-shaped purple blooms with their yellow-orange heads– in the right lighting, it could almost be called gold. "Asters mean remembrance," she told Naruto, "and we'll always remember Uzushio."
Naruto nodded solemnly. "Our home," he said sadly.
"Our home," Sansa agreed.
When Sansa took the tessen, Shion, to her next training session with Jiraiya, he took one look at the golden spiral on the purple-laquered face and sighed.
"Well, it's not a bad idea," he said. "You need some kind of weapon, to support your ninjutsu and taijutsu. Tessenjutsu is good for nerve points and joint-locking techniques, which are always good when fighting opponents who favour swords. It's also good for fending off kunai and senbon."
"Can you teach me?" Sansa asked him, pleased by the assessment.
"No," Jiraiya shook his head. "But I know someone who can."
He worked quickly too. Sansa had just finished her morning run, arriving back at the training grounds to find a Hyūga standing stiffly beside Jiraiya. "Ah, excellent," Jiraiya said, clapping his hands together. "Fuyuko-chan, this is Hyūga Hiromi. Hiromi-chan, this is Fuyuko. Hiromi-chan is going to teach you how to use that tessen of yours."
"Do not call me Hiromi-chan," the Hyūga woman said icily before turning to Sansa. "Show me your weapon," she demanded. Sansa removed Shion from the seal and did as Hiromi said. Hiromi examined the tessen, pausing slightly at the spiral, then nodded shortly. "It will do," she said, before handing it back to Sansa.
The next three hours were as gruelling as any training session with Jiraiya. Hiromi was as forgiving as any mistakes as Jiraiya was, her tongue was sharp as Sansa's own and she expected perfection on Sansa's first attempt– anything but was a failure and treated accordingly.
Sansa did learn, though. The lesson began with how to hold the tessen, before progressing to basic stances, then moving through different katas while holding Shion, to grow accustomed to holding the tessen while in motion.
It was difficult work, but Sansa thought of the Uzushio tessen, she thought of Mito's expression when Sansa had told her of it, and she pushed herself to meet Hiromi's exacting standards, determined to become worthy of wielding it.
"We are done for the day," Hiromi finally declared. "We will meet every second day. You will train at least two hours on the days we do not meet. I will know if you do not," she threatened. "Is this understood?"
"Yes, Hyūga-sensei," Sansa bowed to her new teacher who nodded shortly, shot Jiraiya a dark, vicious look and then left.
"What in the gods name did you do to her?" Sansa asked, giving Jiraiya an incredulous look.
"I hired her as your teacher as a long-term in-village mission– and I got the Hokage to force her to accept," Jiraiya answered easily. When Sansa gave him an incredulous look, because that had to be ridiculously expensive, Jiraiya just gave her a steady look in return. "I told you," he said, "I'm going to make sure you survive."
Sansa found that she had to look away for him. Because, for the first time, she found that she believed him.
~
Time crept by. Days turned to weeks turned to months. Sansa spent all the time she could with Naruto, so desperately aware that despite everything, despite all the time she desperately spent training with Jiraiya, Hiromi and Mito, in just a few short weeks she could be dead.
Two weeks before she was due to leave for Kiri, Sansa met the two other genin she'd be teaming up with for the Exams for the first time. Their third teammate wasn't interested in advancing past genin, instead planning to join the Genin Corp, which left an open place on their team for the Chūnin Exams– one that Sansa had been slated to fill.
The sensei of the team sat them all down and asked them to introduce themselves. "Tell us your name, your favourite hobbies, your dislikes, and your dreams for the future," she encouraged. "For example, my name is Yamanaka Eri, I like gardening and making poisons, I dislike weeds, and my dream for the future is to become a poison specialist."
"My name is Hirai Chiyoko," the other girl on the team said shyly. She was about thirteen and gangly, with short dark hair and soft, tulip-pink eyes. "I like playing with my sister and friends, I dislike chilli, and my dream for the future is to make my family proud by becoming a Chūnin."
"Fuyuko-chan, why don't you go next?" Eri said kindly.
"My name is Uzumaki Fuyuko," Sansa said a little blankly, unsure what to say in the face of the normalcy that had come from her new teammate, "I like my brother and sewing, I dislike–" Konoha– "foolish cowards unable to tell a kunai from a sealing scroll–" or a child from a Bijuu– "and my dream is to help my brother achieve his dream of being a Kage."
Eri looked a little shaken. Jiraiya, who was standing nearby, leaning against a tree, looked darkly amused.
Her last teammate's chakra had sharpened with interest, despite how his expression had failed to shift.
"Kabuto-kun, your turn," Eri said, apparently trying to restore normality as she turned to the third team member, another thirteen year old, this one a boy with ash-grey hair, eyes so dark they were indistinguishable from the pupil and dark-rimmed circular glasses.
"My name is Yakushi Kabuto, I like medical jutsu, I dislike natto and my dream is to become a medic-nin," he said, with a quiet, shy smile of his own. Sansa nodded along, just as she had with Chiyoko's introduction, and thought to herself liar. People's chakra didn't always match what they were saying, but there was something particularly slippery about Kabuto's chakra that didn't fit with the quiet, soft-mannered persona he was projecting.
Not that Sansa was one to toss stones from her glass house, not when she kept her wolf's teeth carefully tucked behind soft lips.
"Well!" Eri said brightly, "the first stages of the Chūnin Exams are often about teamwork, so we're going to be using the mornings of these next two weeks to work on your teamwork. Obviously, Chiyoko-chan and Kabuto-kun are used to working together, but Fuyuko-chan will need sone practice working on a team with you both too.
"Now, Jiraiya has kindly supplied these," she held up three tags with seals inked on them, "for our first teamwork exercise today!" She beamed, but there was a sudden, wicked spark in her eyes and Sansa was suddenly reminded of the fact that Yamanaka were taught psychology practically from birth.
The seals, as it turned out, were each designed to cut off either sight, hearing or speech– Sansa ended up with no hearing. It was then up to the three of them to navigate their way through one of the training grounds together– the trap-filled training grounds, where Sansa was abruptly reminded of Eri's introduction, when she had told them she was an aspiring poison specialist– and while Jiraiya wasn't an Uzushio seal-master, he was still a seal-master.
At least Sansa had a resistance to poisons, thanks to the miserable training she'd gone through with Root. Her teammates weren't so lucky and she ended up volunteering herself to lead, as she was the one best positioned to not only de-activate the trap seals but was the most able to resist the effects of the poisons if they didn't manage to spot them in time.
Kabuto ended up helpful in healing himself and Chiyoko from the poisons, despite his lack of vision, and Chiyoko was surprisingly adept at spotting the traps and knew basic hand-signs, so her inability to speak was mostly an inconvenience, not a hindrance.
They were slightly bedraggled, but more or less in one piece by the time they'd cleared the training grounds. Which was good, because that was apparently just the warmup– next, Eri wanted them to fight her while still under the influence of the seals.
Between the three of them, they quickly realised that Sansa was their best fighter– both Chiyoko and Kabuto accepted that fact with surprising grace, despite the fact she was nearly half their age. With his lack of sight, Kabuto was at the biggest disadvantage so they decided between them that Chiyoko would defend him, while he would act as the medic-nin for the team and Sansa would be their front-line attacker.
The first spar, Sansa got Eri on the ground near-instantly with a paralysis seal she wasn't expecting. The second spar, Eri was more careful to avoid her hands and Sansa had to fight harder to keep Eri away from her teammates, eventually ending up fighting side-by-side with Chiyoko to keep Eri from Kabuto.
Sansa found it difficult, fighting without aiming to harm. It was easier when sparring with Jiraiya– his skill level was too far above her that it didn't matter that she fought with the intention to do harm, she couldn't afflict serious injury to him. It was the same with Hiromi and learning tessenjutsu.
But with Eri, if she went full-out Sansa wasn't sure that Eri would have the skill to put her down without Sansa injuring her badly.
That was probably why Jiraiya had stayed, Sansa realised. She had wondered– it couldn't have been too interesting to him, to just stay and watch. But if he was here to make sure she didn't lose control... that made more sense.
It was– disturbing. Sansa could feel the tightly leashed violence in her body slipping, could feel how she instinctively leaned towards killing blows, the currents under her palms twisting into lethal seals; ones that would paralyse Eri's breathing muscles, stop her heart, crush her bones, flood her lungs– she could feel how her hands itched for her senbon, for kunai, how she kept instinctively reaching to pull from the air water sharp enough to slice through a human body, how her instincts screamed to put Eri down, to put her down hard.
She looked briefly over at Jiraiya, bewildered, horrified, and when she saw only understanding on his face she felt sick. She found herself faltering, pulling back and holding off on her attacks, focusing instead on defending Kabuto.
The exercise eventually finished when Eri called it. "Excellent, all of you," she said once they'd taken off the seals restricting their senses. "Great teamwork! I really think you've got this!"
Sansa forced herself to smile and bow to her new teammates before making her way over to Jiraiya.
"Can we talk?" she forced through numb lips. He nodded and she followed him, her breath coming a little too fast.
"It's not your fault," Jiraiya said, when they were far enough away that her new team wouldn't overhear. Sansa just looked at him, bewildered and panicked.
"I don't understand," she said.
"You don't know how to spar," Jiraiya told her with an odd gentleness. "You've never been taught how. When you've fought, it's always been against people who can kill you– and they've never held back."
Sansa forced her tight lungs to expand. "So today–?"
"Eri-chan isn't a field specialist," Jiraiya explained, and Sansa almost hated how gentle he was being, because she couldn't help how it comforted her, how it soothed the sharp edges of her panic. "She doesn't outclass you, not the way you're used to your opponents outclassing you. And she wasn't trying to crush you into the ground– she was fighting at a level to match Kabuto-kun and Chiyoko-chan. In your head, you were expecting to be fighting to the death."
"I hate it," Sansa whispered, bowing her head. "I hate what this world has made me."
"I know," Jiraiya said, and when he placed his hand over her trembling shoulders, just this once she didn't shake it away.
~
As well starting to train with her new– albeit temporary– team, in preparation for the Chūnin Exams, Jiraiya took Sansa to be officially out-fitted in shinobi gear that wasn't training gear she had borrowed from Naruto.
"It will have to be tailored for you specifically," Jiraiya told her as they approached the stores where shinobi bought their gear.
"You mean Konoha doesn't have custom armour for child soldiers who haven't even reached a decade?" Sansa asked, faux-shocked.
Jiraiya didn't reply. He knew better by now. It almost wasn't worth winding him up.
Almost.
Following Jiraiya into the shinobi clothing store, Sansa noted the white on red circle symbolic of the Haruno merchant clan above the doorway and flicked her eyes over to Jiraiya, who purposefully didn't meet her eyes. Interesting.
They were met by the owner and assistant who both appeared flustered by Jiraiya's presence. It was easy to forget that Jiraiya was actually a famous ninja, both for his own feats and as the Hokage's student, who the wider populace of Konoha were genuinely in awe of when she had such a deficit of respect for him. The wide eyes of the pair, however, served as a rather abrupt reminder.
The next hour in the store was more complicated then Sansa was expecting, being a far more thorough process then she had realised it would be.
First, she had been sized up for a silk singlet to wear underneath any other clothing. It would, Jiraiya explained to her, catch and wrap around sharp projectiles, potentially saving her from a wound that would have required the projectile being cut out or pushed through her.
Next was an elbow-length shirt of reinforced mesh, the strange material almost reminding Sansa of chainmail but for how light-weight it was.
Over the mesh was bindings chosen to wrap around her wrists and ankles, as reinforcement against strains, sprains and dislocation, and around her chest, as extra protection for her ribs, lungs and heart.
It was only after this that they moved on to the clothes themselves. After browsing through the different potential outfits, Sansa chose a high-collared tunic-dress. Once tailored to fit her it would be knee-length with flared sleeves not too deep but similar enough to the sleeves of her Westerosi dresses to give her a sense of familiarity. The sides of the tunic-dress were slit up to the hips and to wear underneath it Sansa chose tight-fitting leggings and slim, calf-hugging boots with a concealed half-inch of iron inserted beneath the sole, giving her height and added weight to her kick.
Satisfied with her choices, Jiraiya went to pay and Sansa was left standing while the assistant finished removing out the pins, having taken the measurements in order to custom-make Sansa's tunic-dress. "I have a request," Sansa said quietly as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.
The light blue tunic-dress with the red leggings was pretty enough, but Sansa had a very different idea of how she wanted it to look. The assistant blanched when Sansa told her what she wanted but still nodded and Sansa smiled, sharp and vicious, not even caring as the woman backed away, the scent of fear sharp in the air.
The next shop sold supplies, where Jiraiya bought her a waterproof bedroll, ration bars, soldier pills– "though you probably won't ever need them," he'd said– a med-kit and rolls and rolls of special paper for seals. "I know you don't need it," he told her, "but let's try not to advertise that fact, okay?"
Sansa accepted the paper without saying a word.
The final shop he took her to sold weapons. Sansa already had her tessen, but here Jiraiya bought her braces of kunai and senbon she could strap to her thighs and forearms, several spools of ninja wire, strange sharp spiked weapons he called 'caltrops' for her hair– "to stop people grabbing it," he'd explained– and, at last, he bought her a Konoha hitai-ate.
"You don't have a choice," he told her bluntly. "You'll be representing Konoha in a foreign village, you have to wear it."
Sansa stared distastefully at it then sighed. "Fine," she said, accepting the metal plate. Jiraiya had picked a blue band of cloth for her, the colour closely resembling the Tully-blue lines she usually painted on her cheeks.
Her choice wasn't just based on nostalgia, however. In Kabuki theatre, the traditional, glamorous theatre of the Elemental Nations, the actors wore a special stage make-up known as 'kumadori'. This make-up usually consisted of bright, bold coloured stripes and patterns over white foundation, with different colours being symbolic of different roles, aspects and emotions.
Blue make-up was worn by the villain characters– such as ghosts, or kitsune.
Sansa wondered how many considered her choice to be just a coincidence. It made her want to laugh in their faces.
She almost wanted to laugh in Jiraiya's face too. He had tried to be thoughtful, she could admit.
She almost felt sorry for him.
That night, as she got to work with her needle and thread, Naruto curled up beside her, tongue poking out slightly as he worked hard at practicing his meditation– he'd grown more and more determined to talk to his "belly-fox" so she'd had him start meditating to try and access his mindscape. If she didn't survive Kiri, she wanted him to have Kurama– she knew he'd win Kurama over, it would be impossible for him not to. He just had to be able to reach Kurama first.
When Sansa returned to the clothing shop, three days before she was set to leave for Kiri, the owner had her clothes neatly packaged in brown paper. "I almost didn't make them," she said in greeting.
"But you did," Sansa said, and the woman's eyes darted to Sansa's forehead, where the blood-red Uzushio spiral was slashed across in the style of blood-spray.
"I did," she agreed. "Against my better judgment, I did."
"Thank you," Sansa said, honest in her gratitude, but the woman only looked grimly down at her.
"I'm not sure you should be thanking me, girl," she said, pushing the package forwards. "Take it."
Sansa did, bowing to the woman before turning and leaving.
She was ready.
~
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone