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dantedont · 4 years ago

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Do you think Haru ever entertained the idea of pulling a Watanabe Ryuishi (From Of the RIver and the Sea)?

Not like go crazy from the horrors of war and make a lotta really bad decisions kinda way but like. Rakki Ryuu kinda way except less culty.

Even though Haru isn't like Ryuishi level, she's really smart and has a way with ppl. + you did mention she kinda has a hero complex.

If she saw ppl in need and she had knowledge that could help she would. Like I dunno how much info she has on farming and economics, but there has to be something she can do.

I dunno, like I just really like the interactions Haru has w/ Takeshi and the other academy kids. And I'd kinda love for her to have her moment to have the upper hand.

oh man, I love From Of the River and the Sea, it’s one of the biggest inspirations for this fic

Dude, I don’t think so. Haru’s pretty wimpy, ngl HAHA so she wouldn’t have imagined doing something large-scaled like Ryuishi in a world full of people who could crush her in a second. Plus she’s not shinobi, so there’s a different dynamic about Haru pulling a Ryuishi.

Yeah, you’re definitely right that she’d help people in need and could at least do something. Haru does have a hero/savior complex, but I think it’d be more subtle in that she’d help out a lowkey village in some little technologies/ideas for better living/education. Oh man, she’d definitely start classes to teach basic literacy and numbers. Haru’s main thing is people: developing their skills, helping others achieve their talents and success, gathering people together for a goal, befriending key ppl for a purpose, etc. She’d rather encourage others to do the change instead of doing it herself bc she’s passive like that.

I’M PLANNING THE UPPER HAND MOMENT DON’T YOU WORRY!! Well. I don’t know how it’s going to turn out yet, but there is going to be a point of confrontation where it will show the differences between her (potentially severed?) ties with Konoha shinobi and her future ties.

#thanks for asking ;-; it's so fun to answer #p&a #anon #praeludium and allegro #naruto fic #ok Ima go work on the fic now lol #I feel guilty answering these asks without working it lmaoooo #but these are pulling me out of my writers block so thank you anons!!!!#ty anon #dante answer

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arkanfire · 9 years ago

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Told myself I would work on my own writing today but here I am, drawing fan art for Naruto Fanfiction instead. Predictably this sketch will probably look better than the finished thing, but never mind. Have a partially finished Watanabe Ryuishi from the wonderful Of the River and the Sea

#Watanabe Ryuishi #Ryuishi #of the river and the sea #OTRATS #Naruto #Arkanfire #alleycat4eva

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alleycat4eva · 9 years ago

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OTRATS- Dreams like Visions

Listening to sad music makes the author write melancholy things.

Pretty canon if you ask me,

Kisame Hoshigaki has had many dreams over the years. Some are nonsensical, with torrents of appalling content and absurd situations, like his sword taking human form and leading him through a desert of snow. Others are more memories than dreams, flashbacks of his younger years, or the battlefields he has been on over his lifetime. There are the prolific and explicit dreams of an adult nature that he can never seem to remember fully, but they leave him waking up both aroused and frustrated. Occasionally he even gets nightmares of falling forever in the darkness between the stars, with nothing but emptiness stretching out, eating away at who he is, trying to take from him every sensation and memory.

This dream, though, it feels different. It feels strange, because he recognizes it as a dream, and everything seems so vivid, so real.

Cool pressure leans against him, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore fills the air. He smells the ocean, fresh and briny, and he feels the chill breeze on his skin. His long legs dangle off the edge of the dock into the deep navy water below, his pant legs rolled up near his knees.

The air is thick with fog that swirls strangely, and he can’t see through it, even when he funnels chakra through the air to clear it. It is just the ocean, the dock, and the person by his side. He feels more peaceful than he can remember feeling in a long time.

“This is different,” she states calmly. “As far as I know, you were never in the Pacific Northwest.”

“It’s a dream,” he states calmly, listening to the waves.

She snorts, resting her head against him. She’s wearing some sort of over sized sweater, and the world’s smallest shorts. She looks older than the photograph he has of her, and her long hair is down, creeping over his back.

“It’s a nice one then. Usually when you’re in them, there’s a lot more crying involved, and Zabuza has to wake me up.”

“I heard he defected a while ago. It doesn’t surprise me that he found you,” he says. Again, that tranquility, alien and strange, rests within his heart.

“One of you had to, or I would be fuckin dead by now,” she utters honestly. This place has no room for lies. There is no point in them here.

He hums in reply, enjoying the dream while it lasts. He can smell flowers mixing in the saltwater, and the iron tang of blood. It’s her scent, unique to who she is. He never knew if it was a perfume, or just who she was, but she never failed to smell faintly like them, even covered in fetid grime and gore.

“You know, we miss you,” she says. “I don’t understand Zabuza like you did, and I’m not sure how to lead a unit.”

It’s his turn to huff out a laugh, and he can feel he hide a soft smile in his shoulder at the sound.

“From what I hear, The Rakki Ryuu does just fine leading,” he states a little bitterly. For a moment, the negative feeling threatens the calm, but the dream washes it away before it can take hold.

“The Rakki Ryuu is a name somebody gave a little girl flying by the seat of her pants, in way over her head. It doesn’t exist like people say it does,” she says, and her husky voice sound smooth and honeyed. She’s definitely grown into it.

“I think it exists more than you know,” he assures her.

She hums out, and he feels a slender hand slip into his. It’s small and cold, but he holds on to it despite the temperature. It’s instinct, and it feels right.

“Neh, Kisame?” she asks, and he feels her turn her head to look up at him. He cranes over, and he stares into deep black eyes, dark like the wild night.

“Yah?”

She leans upward, touching her forehead to his. They stay like that for a while, peaceful and close, breathing in sync with the tide.

“Even if it’s a dream, can I tell you something?” she asks quietly.

He hums low in his throat, trying to memorize the way she looks so he can remember it when he wakes up.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything,” she whispers, and she brushes her nose across his. He closes his eyes to enjoy the sensation, the feeling of peace, and the close contact.

“I really do think you’re beautiful. Come home soon,” he hears.

The sound of the tide grows louder in his ears, and when he opens his eyes again, he’s staring at the ceiling of his room. The saltwater and flowers linger in his nose, and the peace turns to melancholy.

“I will,” he mumbles. “I will bring you home.”

#otrats #of the river and the sea #watanabe Ryuishi

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alleycat4eva · 9 years ago

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Can I have a super sappy scene where Tenzo makes Mokuton hair sticks for Ryuishi? Pretty please? ^u^

I wanted this to be short and funny. It came out ridiculously fluffy. 10,000% sap. If it needs mad editing, forgive me, I am tired. (ALSO, I SEE THAT PUN.)

Tenzo takes her out to Market a lot. His captain uses it as a way to distract her from the moments where he sends his files in. If someone asked him, he would say she wasn’t fooled, but played along for the fun of it. She does things like that.

He watches curiously as Watanabe passes by yet another pair of hair sticks, a longing look in her eye. He knows she has more than enough money. Technically, she could buy the whole stand, but she simply caresses the silver piece of jewelry wistfully, toying with the dangling blue beads before turning away.

This is the fourth time this trip. She often stops at stalls selling ornamental pieces, previewing their wares before stepping away. She’s never bought any of the pieces she’s looked at. She simply sweeps away with her placating smile, wearing her civilian guise like a master.

(He doesn’t know if it’s the long sun dress that softens her, with it’s gentle blue designs , bringing out the rich color of her skin. It could be her makeup, lighter than usual save for around the features she wants to hide. Perhaps it is her hair, a heavy braid that swings around her hips when she walks, and loose strands falling about her face. Whatever it is, she appears less perturbed, less tired. More like she belongs.)

Tenzo is not his senpai. He doesn’t simply brush it away as a quirk when it doesn’t make sense to him. He simply watches harder.

Eventually, the answer became somewhat clear.

Every time she reaches out to examine a necklace, she pulls back and traces the ribbon around her neck, and the scar underneath. When she looks at rings, her dark eyes flicker down to her fingers, thickly callused and dusted with remnants of injuries along her knuckles. With bracelets, it’s clear she’s thinking about how they move when she goes to punch, and the anklets are written away as fragile and easily broken.

Watanabe, for all her brashness and shameless behavior, seems very insecure.

He understands why she doesn’t get the others, but she seems to treasure her hair.

(“The only thing fuckin pretty one me Woodboy,” she jokes one night as she trims away split ends. He disagrees.)

He wonders the reason for months, and it eats away at him in his quiet time. She already uses one, so it should work with her fighting style and attire.

Eventually though, when no answer reveals itself, he decides to ask her. He schedules it for his next visit, and conveniently, it comes faster then he thought it would.

They go to market again, but it doesn’t seem right. He waits until she’s relaxed fully, leaning up against him as they watch the breeze run through the grass. Her dress catches on the ground and hikes up around her ankles, and she rests her head on his shoulder in quiet, lazily staring out into the day.

“Why do you never buy hair-sticks?” he intones.

She looks up at him through her thick lashes, and he stares on. He knows his blank face can be intimidating, but Watanabe has never reacted poorly to it. If anything, she’s learned to read him through other things. He doesn’t know what they are, or he would eliminate them.

“That’s a good question,” she says slowly.

“The one I have now is like me. It’s bone, and it serves to show people who I am. Combined with my tattoo and my chakra, they can look at it and go ‘only the Rakki Ryuu wears a bone pin with carved beads. Only she has one with such images etched into it’s surface’. It’s a symbol of what I have to be.”

He waits as a breeze sweeps through. The shadows of the foliage above them playing out over their resting bodies. He knows she isn’t finished talking quite yet.

“The ones in the market, they aren’t for people like me. Gentle people wear them, ones with nice laughs and calm lives. Pretty trinkets aren’t supposed to be woven in alongside barbed wire and coated with blood. They aren’t made to withstand a tumble, or blow to the head. I’m not something someone would admire from a distance, or something that reflects the light delicately. I am bone, taken from a body and carved by my life.”

He frowns, an uncommon occurrence. Her words are unusually poetic but also strangely morbid.

A thought occurs to him, and he channels his chakra into his hands, coaxing a sturdy length of wood from the ground. He molds it carefully, tapering one end and branching another into multiple paths.

“I think you’re more like wood,” he says. Wood, which is flexible and alive. Wood that grows around obstacles in it’s path and shapes the world around it. Wood, the tree that reaches ever higher to the light, even though it cannot see it.

“Because even though a tree can get cut, it still heals. Never the same as it was, but still alive. People see it and know it can provide; fruit, timber, or shade.”

He gently ends the growth and hands it over to her, and for a moment their fingers brush. He doesn’t have a name for the warmth that fills his chest when he finds her cheeks dusted with pink, or the way his heart feels when he sees her wide, startled eyes. He simply knows it makes him want to smile.

So he does.

She doesn’t place it in her hair right away, but she does return her hand to his. She weaves her fingers into his without words, and lets the quiet take over.

Their life is rarely peaceful, but that is alright. Trees like them were made for weathering storms, and they were no less beautiful for it.

#otrats #Of the River and the Sea #watanabe ryuishi

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alleycat4eva · 9 years ago

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Has Ryuishi ever tampered with candy recipes? Like done some Wonka-type shenanigans to wow customers?

Okay, I think there is a huge difference between somebody who does great, wholesome meals, and the wizards who make candy.

Ryuishi can cook fish. She can cook beef, pork, chicken, vegetables, fruits, and tons and tons of versatile, flavorful dishes. She can even bake a little, like breads and cakes. Even some puddings and custards.

She cannot temper chocolate, or make a hard lolli. She cannot figure out pastry dough, or eclairs. She has no idea how to go about creating ice-cream. Some things are beyond her abilities as a chef.

If she could though, this fic would have been about an eccentric crazy lady who figured out how to make chakra candy and started a weird as fuck factory.

#otrats #Of the River and the Sea #Watanabe Ryuishi #she starts a factory #and makes candy for all the kids #just all of them #some of them are monster themed #but very well liked #Kisame and the chocolate factory #Zabuza wonka #haha fuckin ZabUZA WONKA

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alleycat4eva · 9 years ago

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OTRATS- Much Joke

Inspired by terrible thoughts. It’s not meant to be canon, but if you really want to accept that this happened somewhere in the time skip, it could have.

Hatake Kakashi wishes that he was a Yamanaka at times, just to know if she does these thing on purpose, or if it’s all shameless nonchalance.

It’s during Watanabe’s bi-annual/triennial visits, and he and his kohai are sorting through the files she has brought them in the safety of the his apartment. There is an amazing variety to the stack, but details seem to be sparse.

He’s wondering exactly what kind of source she has in Ishi to get such compromising information when she emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of scented steam, her skin slick and hair still damp from washing off the grime of travel.

Her expression is relaxed as she approaches, her footsteps light and silent. For a moment he assumes she’s going to the kitchen, walking behind the couch and the two Anbu, but as always, she is unpredictable.

He sees her weight shift out of the corner of his eye and raises his arms, his hands clutching a file above his head as she flows over the back of the sofa like a liquid. Tenzo grunts in surprise as she rolls down over them, coming to a rest on top of their legs, sprawled face down in his lap like an overgrown pet. Her bronze thighs rest on his partners, her feet dangling over the armrest.

“Life is hard,” she grumbles into his navel. He feels her breath through his shirt, and it makes him peculiarly aware.

“Watanabe, you're getting your wet hair on the files,” he reprimands.

She sighs, and a single well toned arm raises to flick the heavy black curtain out of the way before settling back down, draped over his lap.

“Happy now, Hatake?” she mumbles.

The answer is no, he isn’t happy, because no matter how one looks at it, having a missing nin sprawled out over one’s lap is inappropriate, not to mention distracting. He can smell her, all seawater and pear blossoms, and he can feel the heat she leeched from the shower radiating out of her skin.

It’s very hard to concentrate on what secrets lie within the Land of Stone when she has her face pressed very near his groin. He is patently unsure if she even realizes how improper this seems.

Glancing over, he notices his kohai doesn’t seem to notice either. He is almost completely desensitized to her overly physical, often improper, demeanor. The man has simply adjusted to this new predicament. One of his arms is draped over her thigh, and his opposite elbow is planted on the other leg as he scans over something marked ‘Ame’.

Tenzo is a marked sample of what happens to a person when exposed to her too often. His shame is nowhere to be seen. The Mokuton user is even idly fiddling with the bottom hem of her ridiculous shorts, rolling it between his fingers.

Where does she even buy them? What store sells such indecent lengths as clothes?

“Watanabe-” he starts, but she interrupts him with a loud groan in response. She is far too loud, and while he knows it is exasperated in nature, the husky quality of her voice makes it sound obscene.

She ends it, and he stares at her in the most carefully constructed deadpan he can manage.

“Just shut up and let me lie on you,” she demands.

He decides that it is simply too much effort to fight this right now, and allows this terrible transgression to pass. He does his best to ignore her breath rhythmically brushing against him, and the curve of her cheek pressed into his thigh. He certainly does not even deign to notice the long expanse of her neck bared at him like a submissive gesture, or the way he can feel the swell of her chest as she breathes in and out.

In fact, he focuses his attention the the same paragraph three separate times, just to be sure he is absorbing the information correctly. It’s entirely on purpose.

His forced concentration lasts up until he feels rapidly cooling fingertips idly creep up his hipbones and begin to toy with the edge of his shirt.

“Watanabe,” he bites out.

“What?” she asks.

“What are you doing?”

“Fuckin’ around with your shirt,” she tells him bluntly.

He closes his eye, and drops his hand to the side in exasperation. He draws in a long, steadying breath before looking down at the woman resting on his lap.

Her head is turned in to face his navel, and he is confronted with the profile of her bored face, her eye half lidded, and damp strands of hair clinging to sections of skin.

“Have you considered that this may be an unseemly position for you?” he asks, and her eyebrow shoots up.

“Really?” she returns. “This is positively tame compared to some of positions I get into with other people.”

And it really is. Honestly, half her fighting style is grappling based, so there have certainly been very awkward situations when sparring. As fond as she is of choking people out with her thighs, the logistics of the move can easily turn a bit X-Rated depending on which way the victim's head is turned.

She doesn’t know how many times Zabuza has been on the receiving end of said move. Or how many times he’s been on the wrong end of a north-south grappling mount, which is the equivalent of a particularly violent, fully clothed 69ing position. She’s dealt with so much junk, and so many packages she could be called a UPS mailman at this point.

Zabuza’s never complained about compromising positions.

“Really,” Kakashi says in complete deadpan.

“Yah, just ask woodboy about the time he discovered I have no gag reflex,” she answers nonchalantly.

Kakashi whips his head around so fast the bones in his neck pop, and he stares at his kohai. He would have sworn to the Hokage himself that Tenzo wasn’t one to succumb to such unprofessional relations, no matter the temptation.

(And no gag reflex?)

“Tenzo?” he asks icily, and the man has the decency to look ashamed.

“It was an accident senpai,” he starts. “You weren’t home and I was alone with her-”

“In my apartment?” Kakashi demands.

“Where else would it happen?” she chimes in.

“-and we were on the couch-” The blank faced shinobi continues obliviously.

“This couch?!”

“-and it was in her mouth, so when I moved it just went deeper in. She didn’t seem hurt, and she didn’t choke on it. She was just a little surprised.”

Ryuishi, unseen, raises her eyebrows. She meant for him to explain that she had him on a triangle mount this summer, not the fact that he jammed her popsicle into her lungs with an erant flailing arm. If he wants to make it sound this great though, who is she to stop him? This is comedy gold.

“You moved, and it just went deeper in her mouth,” Kakashi says in a defeated tone. “In my apartment, on the couch we are currently sitting on.”

The younger man looks embarrassed, and he removes his hand from her thigh to scratch the back of his neck.

“I mean, some spit came out after I did that, and it landed on the cushions, but we cleaned it up. She swallowed the rest, so it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“Swallowed the rest,” he repeats in a whisper.

Kakashi feels a little bit faint, actually. He’s not sure he ever wanted to know this much about Watanabe’s oral skills. Any information is supposed to be good information, but this is pushing it.

He suddenly feels all too aware of the weight of her head on his lap, and the quirking smile she has on her full lips at the moment.

“What did you do to him?” he asks, and she looks like she did no wrong.

“Honestly, it isn’t as bad as it sounds. Don’t freak out,” she drawls.

“I’m not,” he defends.

He isn’t, but he’s also not sure what to do. Technically, anything that ties the Rakki Ryuu closer to Konoha is permitted, but thinking about that makes his head hurt. It conjures images of seduction agents, and politically arranged marriages.

“You are. Take a deep breath and calm down,” she orders.

“Maybe I would be calmer if you didn’t tempt him,” he tells her.

A frown overtakes her face.

“Tempt him? How is this suddenly all on me? Just let me-”

“No,” he grinds out. “I don’t want to know-”

A hand presses itself to his lips, and Watanabe moves. Her body rises up to his level, and she shifts her legs to plant a knee on either side of his legs, seating herself on his lap. Kakashi feels something in his stomach drop into his feet, and his mouth goes dry when she puts her face on equal level to his, meeting him eye to eye.

“Hatake, I did not perform fellatio on Woodboy,” she tells him sincerely.

“What?!” cries Tenzo. “I would never-! So unprofessional- Senpai how could you think-?” He sputters out.

“-And I would also like to say that if I did, it would be entirely consensual, and therefore not all my fault,” she finishes.

Kakashi looks between them skeptically, his grey eye darting back and forth. Something in his chest unknots, and he reaches up to gently wrap his fingers around her wrist, pulling the hand from his mouth.

“Explain,” he states blandly.

“Were were on your couch, waiting for you to get home, eating some frozen popsicles. I initiated a play fight with him. I had him in a triangle mount, which is what I was referencing beforehand as seemingly inappropriate, because of how that hold works. Woodboy thought he could clip me in the face, but just ended up jamming said treat down my throat,” she tells him.

He goes to check his kohai for a response, but the other man has his arms crossed defensively, and his face is set into an expression of anger.

“I can’t believe you would think so poorly of me senpai,” he says tonelessly.

Kakashi feels a bit of regret, because Tenzo has always been nothing but professional, and it was a bit of a jump. Still, the way he said it-

“I would like to add that if anything, he would have to come on to me, because I’m terrible at initiating sexual relations,” Watanabe states seriously from her seat. “I mean, once I get into it I can get aggressive, but I kinda need someone to dominate at first.”

Kakashi wishes with his whole heart he could unhear that statement for multiple reasons. His eyes dart to her bared throat and then back up, and his mouth feels incredibly dry.

He thinks of what he has learned today, about swallowing, gag reflexes, and domination. He feels her weight settled on his legs, and he can feel her pulse in her wrists, beating steadily against his fingers.

For a second he wonders what it would be like to feel it spike, to hear the sharp intake of her breath-

He drops her wrist like it’s on fire, and shoves her off his lap, attempting to compose himself. She tumbles into his kohai and shoots him an affronted look, but he can’t see it. He’s turned away to face the other direction. He knows for a fact his face is red, because he can feel it. Even his mask won’t be able to cover it up.

His pants feel uncomfortable, and suddenly he wishes he had just been able to accept it when she rested on them.

“WOW,” Watanabe states loudly. “Rude.”

They can never know, he thinks to himself. Watanabe or Tenzo.

(They don’t find out.)

#otrats #Of the River and the Sea #watanabe ryuishi #of course zabuza doesn't complain #he either doesn't care #or cares a little too much #Kakashi gets a subtle erection #and tenzo is affronted at his accusations #he would never sleep with her #unless #you know #actual sleep was involved

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alleycat4eva · 9 years ago

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In your flash fuc about touch you mentioned pretty much every main character except Orochimaru, so what does he feel about Ryuishi's casual attitude towards touch and nakedness?

In my head, and thus my fic, Orochimaru is aware of human interaction, sexuality, and social structure in the same way we understand animal behavior. He views it in a totally detached and scientific way. There’s a formula in it for him. (I also headcannon him as asexual, so there’s that)

Ryuishi’s endless nudity and need for physical contact exasperates him, yes, but it also charms him. He see’s her need to touch as almost the same thing as ape/monkey social grooming, or canine pack instinct. She’s just reinforcing social connections and feeding an instinctual desire to bond. What he likes about it is that she includes him inside those parameters. When she insists on touching him, or playing with his hair, or holding his hand, he sees a younger mammal strengthening bonds with an older, guardian mammal.

He’s a little alarmed that his instincts push him to react in similar ways at times. He won’t deny that he feels a certain protectiveness over her person, and concern for her well being. Still, he only allows himself to act on them on rare occasions.

As for the nudity, he sees no problem with it, save for the extent that others are effected at times. He doesn’t care as long as she doesn’t make a fool of herself, or embarrass them in court or something.

Still, it bugs him that some of his underlings watch her when she wanders the base without full garb. He doesn’t like the looks she receives, hungry and physical, because they aren’t up to his expectations. He thinks that Ryuishi is far above them, and should she choose a breeding partner, it will be somebody who’s at or above her own level.

(TBH Orochimaru probably has a list of suitable candidates to act as sperm donors. He’s way too interested in her chakra, and what kind of offspring she will bare when the time comes.)

#otrats #of the river and the sea #watanabe ryuishi

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alleycat4eva · 9 years ago

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Is it possible to get like a one shot or something of what would happen if Ryuishi had been born in Konoha?

If Ryuishi was born in Konoha, a lot would drastically change.

She’s still the child of a civilian, because she was never meant to be born higher than that. The life of nobility isn’t for her.

The problem is, there are too many eyes in Konoha, and she’s staggering under the weight of everything.

Unlike Kiri, there isn’t a drastic difference to cement this place as the reality. There is only Konoha, a half remembered dream of a life lived, and she can’t separate reality from fantasy anymore. She died, she knows that, but being numb and empty for so long, and then being thrust into a dream doesn’t help her stabilize. It makes everything much, much worst.

Her lifeline comes in the form of of a brown haired girl with a smile like a cooling breeze, Rin Nohara. Ryuishi grasps onto her desperately. She can’t stop seeing another brown haired girl in her place, one with curly hair and freckles on her cheeks. Her soul cries out, and it sings ‘Sister, sister, child of my heart, anchor of my mind. Love beyond all reason.’

So she does. Before they even begin anything, Ryuishi attaches herself to Rin and never lets go. She nurtures the girl, even though they are the same age, and does everything for her. She teaches Rin, she plays games, and in secret, she sobs in darkness alone over a death that can never be.

(‘Not her, never her, not our darling Rin’ the pieces of her mind cry.)

Ryuishi decides that she will do anything to prevent it. She takes up tricks from her old world, practicing in secret so that she can be strong. Strong enough to stop Rin from hurting, from ever being captured. It’s on the training grounds she is noticed.

One of her watchers becomes a friend, a boy with black hair and orange goggles. She adds him to her brood, and tells him that tears are not weak, that he is more than alright, and that she cherishes them. The three bond, and they can be seen running around Konoha, the best of friends.

Her other watcher, however, looks at her through half lidded golden eyes, and sees what nobody else does. He’s always been good at it. He sees the little girl who drifts away, and the cold blankness of her eyes. He sees a chakra he has never discovered before, and the ruthless way she goes about training herself in the darkness of night. Orochimaru notices her slinking around, picking up on whispers and secrets, collecting information that a child should have no worry of. He keeps an eye out.

The age comes for them to join the academy, and tensions are thick between states outside of their village. Ryuishi only knows that she needs to excel to protect her brood, and she does. She flies ahead, and like the young silver haired boy she meets, she graduates early. A rivalry is formed.

Hatake Kakashi and Ryuishi tie for the youngest genin to graduate, and they attract their very own jounin teachers. Kakashi goes to Minato, and Ryuishi goes to Orochimaru.

The Sanin is relentless in his instruction, cold and calculating. He expects her to cry out like children do, to protest, but she doesn’t. She matches his wit, she challenges his theory, and she takes every beating and learns. She drops carefully worded hints, molds herself into something unknown. A manipulator, a liar, a schemer. Duplicitous and vain, he discovers something delightful. She has no morals, only a vague understanding, and she is terrible and ruthless when pushed. She fears his power, but she respects it and craves it as well.

He wanted a student, and he receives one, but he also finds an heir.

The time draws nearer, and the bond between Snake and hatchling grows. Again, she and Kakashi tie for youngest chunin, and it infuriates the silver haired boy. Ryuishi, however, worries about other things.

The day Kakashi meets his new team, he also receives a visit from her. She’s distant as always, seemingly stuck in a daydream, but she turns to him in his own home, and says ‘If they are harmed, if they are hurt, if you ever come home without them, I will make you watch as I destroy everything you love.’

He doesn’t take her seriously.

Orochimaru decides that since one student was such a great success, another is do, and Anko joins her brood. By some mutual agreement, the get to know Anko and appreciate her for the innocence they never had, the naivety and childish wants. They cherish her, and keep her away from the dark.

Time passes, and Kakashi becomes jounin, finally winning the unspoken contest. He is a higher rank, while Ryuishi falls behind, dealing with secrets in the dark, and roots beneath the tree.

Kannabi bridge comes, only there’s a difference. After much begging, pleading, bribing, and general scheming, Team Minato does not go alone. Team Orochimaru is there as well, and while Minato and Orochimaru scamper off to take care of the invading force, Anko and Ryuishi join the team.

The moment things go south, Ryuishi is there, pushing Rin (Her heart, her soul, her everything) out of the way, and Iwa captures her. There is chaos. Obito and Rin are delirious, and Anko is out of her mind with worry, but the explosives are with Rin. Kakashi decides the mission comes first. He pulls them together, and though there is dissension in the ranks, in the end Anko decides to follow her teachers ways. The mission always comes first.

They blow the bridge and circle back, and Obito gets his sharingan. Enough time passes that their teachers come back as well. Minato watches as Orochimaru shifts in rage, cold and icy hatred taking over his features. Yes, the mission comes first, but that is his heir, his student, his disciple. She believes in him, trusts in him, understands like others don’t.

The Sanin storms ahead, and team Minato follows as fast as possible, but when they come to the cave, it is to a slaughter. Iwa nin lie screaming and dying in a cave in, but worst of all is the broken, crumpled form of Ryuishi in her sensei’s arms.

Her eyes are blank and glassy, and her clothes are torn. She’s barely alive, fading fast.

They learn later that genjutsu wasn’t enough. Ryuishi simply absconded deeper inside her head, and Iwa got creative. They broke her limbs little by little, putting her in unreal amounts of pain. They shattered her dignity, and took her vanity away. Her face will forever be scarred by the gashes they gave her, and she will never have the same doll like looks or easy smile. Instead there is the permanent mockery of a grin cut into her cheeks, and the mangled mass of flesh she gets to call her body.

(The Iwa nin thought the smile carved into her cheeks was poetic, because she wouldn’t stop laughing. She had done it, Rin was safe, her sister was alright. Nothing was real.)

Orochimaru looks up from the massacred body of his heir, and Minato knows that there will never be forgiveness for this. Not for him, not for Kakashi, not for anybody.

Time passes again, and Ryuishi becomes taciturn as she heals, slowly regaining the use of her body. Kakashi visits, sometimes with Rin and Obito, sometimes alone. Things are tense on his team now, but Ryuishi never blames him.

“It’s what we were taught to do, Kakashi,” she says. “You did exactly what the village said was right, and I don’t blame you.”

(She blames the system.)

They begin to work it out, and Minato is elected. For Orochimaru, who has done everything for the village, it is the last straw. After he finishes his Mokuton experiment, he will leave for good, hatred burning in his heart.

He gives his students the choice to follow. Anko receives the curse mark and denies him. Ryuishi receives a variant of it, and she goes to take his hand.

The two leave the village, and everyone acts surprised. Rin and Obito and Kakashi all vow to make Ryuishi answer why she left, and blame Orochimaru.

Anko, however, does not.

(She understands them more than most would. It hurts, it hurts so bad, but she will never forget the man who raised her, or the sister that brushed her hair and tucked her in.)

The two deserters begin to build a place of their own, before Zetsu arrives on the scene. Without Obito, he needs someone else, and Orochimaru meets Madara, promises to continue his cause, and the two set out to work. They do intend to change thing, but in their own way.

Orochimaru receives Madara’s sharingan, and Ryuishi becomes his partner. Together they form the Akatsuki, and over the years they grow. Everything changes.

#otrats #of the river and the sea #au #watanabe ryuishi

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