Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“When you connect to the silence within you, that is when you can make sense of the disturbance going on around you.” 
― Stephen Richards

The clock ticks lazily, as if slowing down out of sheer spite in order to inhumanly prolong every single second; so that people working for hours already would feel like they still have another eternity to wait. Eternity called ‘quarter to the end of shift’, and it was, indeed, one hell of an agonizing time to wait, when even coffee fails to soothe sensation of time flowing slower.

She brushes some unruly strands back that decided to free themselves from a messy bun, while setting a finished report on top of other finished report. The pile is big, and she only has two of them left to complete and thus, with a heavy and resigned sigh, Renee Archer decides that yes, she will stay a bit longer than she has to in order to be finally free and done with the pile of work. Her eyes – brown – are dulled, and there are dark circles under them. Her form slouched, and skin pale; signs of lifestyle indicating too much work, too little sleep and diet composed mostly of coffee and sugar.

Had somebody told her, few years ago, that being a Detective Investigator is majorly about paperwork, she wouldn’t really believe them. But now, having finally achieved this rank, Renee believes with her whole heard as she, day by day, drowns in pages of reports.

She lays her head on the desk and sighs again, this time somewhat heavier and with agony to it, yet somehow relieved. Just two more reports, it won’t take more than an hour. Hopefully, because it’s all that stands between her and ultimate freedom that is called The Mighty Weekend. And how come she was drowning in reports in the first place? Because she solved that one particularly tricky case – one of worst, if not the worst, she ever had to uptake – of kidnapping, nearly failing, which she sometimes did in her five-years-long career, but it was awful when child could’ve died. In the end, he didn’t, and boy’s mother even bought flowers for the team. But then, case solved, and… Paperwork. Ton and ton of it. And since Renee was one who did most of it, she was also tasked with writing and revising the case. Because it was just a shitload of paperwork, nothing much.

One would really think that being Detective Investigator is interesting and has trill to it- Well, sometimes it does. And then it doesn’t, for a long while, and that’s something that Renee learned well throughout past five years.

Her phone vibrates somewhere around the papers, annoying buzz shaking gently the tables surface, and Renee has to un-burry it in order to see who’s calling. Then, she makes face pushing the deice away and patiently waits up until it shuts up. Grandmother, the contact said before the screen went black again, and Renee is unable to make herself feel bad for not picking up. Should’ve never taught the old woman to use it in the first place, she wouldn’t be able to pester her now. And Renee refuses to allow the old harpy to destroy her life even further, even if she claims that it’s for her own good.

Renee can hardly call being a greedy, narcissist person who cares only for money and social standing a particularly good thing, unlike her grandmother and mother who kept hammering those traits into her up until she snapped and promptly left the house.

Or how being controlled by the elderly woman could be good for her?

But she moved forward, instead of being stuck in the static past of her old-fashioned, nearly fanatically religious family, and she’s content with that. Already broken, caring only for money and comfort in life, just exactly as she’s been raised to, but refusing to be broken further.

That, of course, is heavily frowned upon in her family; as everything else that doesn’t fit the scheme from sometime around two centuries ago. Even her becoming Detective Investigator, just like her uncle, despise it being quite well-paid, was heavily frowned upon. Because it was man’s job.

Not like she cared. Not like she was taught to care.

What she cared about was avoiding being locked in cage of stereotypes, xeno- and homophobia that was her family. It was enough that, when she was a teenage girl and weighted somewhere around ten kilogram more that she should, her family was fat-shaming her as if she weighted half a ton instead. It was unnerving, depressing and completely demotivating.

“Ey, Ren, you still here?” a voice calls, instantly getting Renee’s attention. Soon enough a mop of red (strawberry blonde!) hair adorning skinny face of a boy who barely finished university attracts her eyes, and then tired yet cheerful face with complexion that might as well just be freckles comes to view. Renee smiles, almost fondly; for the half of a year boy has been working here, he proved that underneath his looks, that screamed ‘ginger’, a brilliant mind and sharp tongue laid dormant and waiting to strike, ready at any second.

“Two more reports, Jeremy,” she sighs as realization that those are two reports too many dawns upon her. Sometimes she hates her job, really; but she worked too hard and gave too much to get here to quit now. “Bring me something to drink?”

“Sure,” boy answers quite cheerfully, having learnt in past six months that by something, especially at this hour, Renee most likely means Espresso with double the milk and four times the sugar, and heads for the coffee machine, while Renee herself, with no motivation whatsoever, reached for one of two remaining reports. She felt… Determined. As much as one could be determined after eight hours straight of sitting on their ass and filling papers, with only short pause for a lunch, that is.

“Here’s your coffee,” Jeremy chimes, setting the paper cup next to her, and Renee accepts it muttering something that might as well have sounded like ‘saint’.

“Thanks kid. Now run along, go home,” she sighs, taking one big sip of the coffee, and winces, because it’s too warm, and it makes her feel even more sleepy. Shit.

“Hey, I’m hardly a kid!” Jeremy argues, and woman just snorts.

“You’re five years my junior, kid,” Renee arguments, and the ginger can’t really argue with that, so he just puffs his cheeks. “Thanks again. Bye, Jerry.”

“Bye, Ren. Have nice weekend,” Jeremy smiles. “And be careful, it’s already late.”

Renee just sighs and waves her and at him, not bothering to answer.

Besides; if something bad is bound to happen, it will happen, because the mighty Law of Murphy is not to be fucked with. It’s not like Renee’s life is in shortage of bad luck, anyway. It never was.

She makes her way through the villa district slowly, yet surely, in order to reach the suburbs. Her body screams in pain, really, the neck part of her spine so sore that it takes so much effort to even turn her head around that she doesn’t bother – and the same goes for walking straight, instead of slouching. She was never a fan of walking like a lady anyway. Too uncomfortable. Too… Well, troublesome.

The only thing that accompanies her through dark street of calm, villa district is the sound of her footsteps, silent, and distant sound of the life of city beyond the wall of green that are trees of the small park. With city behind she is even able to hear her own breath; heavy, tired, yet calm.

She hears other footsteps, but too late. She sees shadow flickering under what little light the lantern gives, but has no time (or even will) to snap her head around. She sees the glimmer of cold steel when it’s already sticking out of her chest.

Oh.

Renee blinks, and sighs, and realizes that maybe, somehow distantly, it does hurt, and it does get harder to breathe. And it also hurts like hell, not distant at all, and it’s cold, and sharp and it burns, and bells shriek inside her ears, and her throat tightens for no reason. She already feels colder, and the blood runs from her face, and kaleidoscope of black and color erupts in her eyes, blinding and dancing to the music of shrieking bells.

She knows the feeling; she’s about to faint. Not the first time around.

But the first tie where she knows that she will not wake up.

Oh, she realizes, as she feels metallic scent and something warm and sticky glues her brown shirt to her body and starts seeping and staining her jeans. The blade – and she’s willing to bet that it’s a katana, she’s seen enough of them live, she even has one at home – is harshly pulled out of her chest. It’s when she realizes that her legs have mellowed, turned into something between jelly and fresh marshmallows she likes so much, and she falls to her knees – perhaps painfully, but she can’t really tell; she can’t tell if she feels anything anymore – as her legs give up without even trying to keep her up.

Renee can hardly say that she’s mad, really. In fact, she can hardly say she cares at all; for why-s and who-s, like no one really cares for her. Somehow, something inside her decides, she’s even kind of grateful, that she won’t have to cope with this less-than-ideal, corrupted, pathetic world of wars and injustice.

Oh, she thinks again, and realizes that’s the very last of her. She doesn’t resist the dark, or the cold, because it doesn’t hurt and she can be free from existence.

Oh well, is the last thing ‘Renee’ ever registers. It happens.

Renne Archer has always been  normal, ordinary person – boring even. The kind of person that you never look around to see better or to look at twice on the street, and the one you forget right away after brief interaction. She was plain, both inside and outside; the kind of plain-plain that sheer amount of it could cause a nausea.

She was also a looser, of a sort. Between desperately trying to distance herself from her ridiculously old-fashioned and nearly fanatic family, and working too hard to get a decent work and decent living (and to still be frowned upon it, because she was a woman, she shouldn’t be a cop, she should be a housewife with five children patiently waiting for her husband!), with her social life being as dead as seaweed planted on Sahara. That left Renee wasting the little free time she got on gaming and watching various shows in order to forget just how awful the world was.

So, dear readers, you perhaps wonder, if Renee Archer was such a boring individual, why am I writing her story for you to read in the first place? Well, cue the obvious, because I’m sure you already know.

Because, you see, she died.

And then she didn’t.

She comes to with a start, suddenly, sharp, cold-burning pain forcing her into the waking world – living world – her senses instantly attacked by white light paralyzing even through closed eyelids and herbal scent so strong that, for a moment, she forgets how to breathe. It’s so strong that it gets into her eyes the second she tries opening them, and makes her head spin despite that she still lays flat on her back.

That alone is enough for her to feel alarmed. That alone is enough to scream loudly that something is so very, very wrong.

Then, there’s tightness around her chest, unmistakable and elastic, and blocking some of the pain, but also making breathing difficult – as if it wasn’t painful enough already  - but these are definitely bandages but… Odd. Far from hindering her breath as much as they should, which is unusual itself, and then the fabric isn’t rough but soft instead, like some odd mixture of silk and cotton.

Then, there are steps, and something shuffles, and unmistakable sound of door sliding open, and that forces even more consciousness into her, and more things start feeling wrong with every passing second. So she forces her eyes open, bravely fighting against the brightness and strong herbal scent, which still makes her squint her eyes, but they soon accommodate to the light intensity

“Oh, you’re awake!” a feminine voice sounds, and her eyes go so wide it hurts. She turns around to look at her intruder – definitely a nurse – as if demanding answers woman doesn’t have. All she gets instead is “how do you feel?”

How do I feel?

How do I feel?!

Oh well, pretty good. Besides of the fact that my chest hurts like hell, I don’t know where I am and why I am alive and that you speak fucking Japanese and I perfectly understand it, even if I never, ever, ever made an effort to actually learn anything besides the simplest introduction and-

Well, shit.

“Uh, miss?” Nurse asks again, and she does look Asian, alright, and the woman is so worried that, if not for the situation and panic rising in her chest alongside pain, she perhaps would feel sorry for scaring her, because it sounded almost genuine. But she was on the very verge of hysteria attack like never before. Last time she checked, she was native to small town near Glasgow, Scotland, UK, and there she lived, and there was absolutely no Japan-themed things, or even Asian people, and Japan itself was so far-

“Uchiha-san?”

The world stops as if those two words were some magical command- And then it rushes forward at the speed of light.

Seconds, and she’s up (and gods, her chest hurts so much), and her legs are so unnaturally short, and her body is so small, and it’s so weird, so off, so plain wrong, and she is by the window before nurse has even time to blink, as she throws it open, and looks around, eyes so wide it appears like they could fall out any second.

Fuck, is the only thing her mind is capable of processing in English.

Fuck, is the only thing she’s capable of thinking at all, anyway.

Fuck, because what she sees is unmistakably Village of the Hidden Leaf.

(A hand touches her shoulder, and it feels worried, and she snaps her head and looks at the nurse, pale-faced and wide eyed, and her chest is burning-cold-

And, just like that, Renee screams.)

Uchiha Ren, the paper she took from where they were hanging on her bedframe says. She stares at it for a while, uncertain and still startled, and pale, and aching and overall feeling so unwell she wishes she could just pass out from all the emotions. It definitely reads in kanji and, worst of all, she has no problem to decipher it. It hardly helps to ease her nerves from her hysteria attack that occurred just a while ago.

(Nurse tried. Really tried. But after five minutes she just gave up and ran for help, but Renee managed to calm down and nobody came in yet. Fucking ninja personnel, what if she reopened her wound?!

She’d die. This time hopefully for good, duh.)

But she’s an Uchiha, alright. What she sees in a mirror she lays her hands on screams of it. Because she has the most generic, messy black hair and dull, black eyes. Even though slightly less generic, her skin darker than her ‘clansmen’, still pale enough that it counts without a second thought.

The similarities, though… Those are startling. The way how the girl staring at her was similar – not identical, yet, but so similar it was almost eerie - to what she once was. Well, once… For her it wasn’t even an hour, really.

The main problem?

She apparently was fucking eleven.

As much as it explains her short legs and the tiny, pre-pubescent voice, and everything else that felt so wrong about her body, it doesn’t make her feel any better. Honestly, it made it even worse, as she looks at her features, so gentle and soft and childish, yet still… Well, hers, and the realization that when she grows up again (or if?) she will look like herself is… Very, very unsettling.

But knowing where and who is she leaves her with one question yet unanswered, and perhaps even more important than two former – when is she? Being optimistic is not what Renee ever was, but being… Well, reborn, just to be killed off again? That would be so goddamn unfair and this time around she surely would get mad at dying. She didn’t want to be optimistic enough and assume that she’s the Massacre’s survivor, but on the other hand she also wanted to.

It’s not like she survived death once just to be killed by Itachi, right?

Right?!

But there was no one around, and she really didn’t feel like going out and looking for some kind soul, not with the pain in her chest erupting with every breath after her hysteria (she didn’t open anything, did she? Nah, she’d be dead by now if she did, most likely) that made even thinking about walking painful enough. And with whole nobody to brief her to where in the timeline falls into after waking up or even why is there a hole in her chest that she’s willing to bet is at least very similar to what killed her, she gets nervous. She can’t even see the Hokage Mountain because her room faces the completely opposite direction, and all she remembers is dying, as Renee. And it’s so not cool.

Normally, she would hardly care. But this isn’t normally, because of all options and possibilities available, she had to awake as a damn Uchiha.

She would even prefer Hyuuga, honestly, she has experience with dealing with ridiculously traditionalistic and overall unbearable families that you just want to lock away in a psych ward. But Uchiha? Or, should she say, Emochiha? God damn her luck, she had to join the Clan of Angst ™, hadn’t she? Gods above, why. Just why. She wasn’t even angsty person in the first place!

Honestly, she was… Levelled. And definitely, totally hating all the angst and emo-emo-desu-ness Naruto and it’s OCs sometimes offered.

But, despise her train of thoughts, she is still left with whole nobody to pester and whole nothing to do. Joy. She could maybe start plotting, but that was stupid. She needed to know when she is first, and only then, maybe, spew a master plan or two and hope that they would, maybe, gain her position in Nara Clan.

She likes Nara people. Why couldn’t she wake up as a lazy genius?!

(Because you’re not lazy and definitely not genius enough, a voice in her head remarks nastily.)

Life is unfair, Renee decides as she puffs her cheeks and buries herself under hospital blanket. And it sucks.

Damn her luck. Damn it so much, with all the spite of the world.

There’s a soft knock on the door to her hospital room that happens about an hour after her freak-out. It sounds just when Renee – bored to the point she never thought she would experience again after she finishes school – decides to read through her medical information for third or fourth time in a row, even if she is more than capable of reciting it whole right now, perhaps in hopes that sneaky papers hide something else from her. Something else that isn’t her biological information, so eerily alike to what she was, from blood type to even goddamn vitiligo she can see on her palms if she squints enough, skin just two tones paler but still (and she’s willing to bet that those ugly paler splotches are on whole length of inner side of her legs that make her look like a fucking cow). There’s also description of her injury, and she still bets that it’s too similar to what killed her to be a coincidence.

But the other option is ridiculous-

But then, she is in goddamn Naruto world with Ninja Magic and Ninja Presidents and Ninja Villages-

“What?” she snaps at the door, childishness of her voice instantly killing all the annoyed and dangerous note in her voice, and door slides open. Renee stops everything she does at the moment, and focuses at the man leaning very casually by the doorframe, and can’t help but feel relieved, somehow. She sets the papers down, and can hardly fight her muscles as they force corners of her lips up, even if just lightly.

His hair is rather long for a man, reaching slightly below his chin and chocolate brown, and his eyes are few shades darker than that. The most basic Leaf Ninja uniform on him, and senbon between his lips, bent in a smirk, and she knows that when spit out, the needle is more than capable of stopping a thrown kunai. His forehead protector is tied on his head like a bandana, backwards, but Renee knows that the plaque is there, on the back of his head, because this is Shiranui Genma, one of most awesome people to ever grace the Naruto Universe, and hot damn, she’s this close to start giggling like a dumb fangirl she, in fact, is.

Only, she doesn’t. Genma deserves more than a fangirl freaking him out. Much more. He’s way too awesome for this shit, being a tokujo and all, and he surely is older than tender age of fifteen, when he became one. That sparks hope.

“Hey, kiddo,” is first thing he says, and Renee can’t help wrinkling her nose. She wants to protest that she’s not a kid- But then, she is a kid. So, instead she watches as the tokujo strides into the room in carefree and yet careful. He sighs, crossing his hands on his chest and looks at her in scolding manner. Yet, Renee feels anything but abashed. She’s been disappointment her whole life, one of her favorite characters staring her down won’t change a thing.

“Hi,” she answers instead and straightens slightly her sitting pose even if it hurts like hell. Genma just arches his brow and his senbon clanks around on his teeth as he moves it to the other corner of his mouth.

“Heard you gave the nurse quite a scare,” he says, and Renee can’t help but think that he’s the help that nurse rambled about getting. Was it a case with every near-killed kids, or was she just a special snowflake?

…

Wait. She was an Emochiha now. Right. Damn, that was special snowflake-ish all by itself. Especially if she was when she thought she was. Or hoped. Both worked.

“If I did, why didn’t she stay?” Renee asks, crossing her hands on her chest, and Genma just offers her a small smile. It’s reassuring.

“Don’t expect much from a civilian,” he notes, walking over and sitting on the edge of her hospital bed. “She had no idea how to deal with a ninja kid, more less with what happened, and she thought that those medic-nin did job decent enough that you didn’t get a heart attack on the spot.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Renee agrees.

“Good, because it was damaged. Not opened, but damaged, and they had to heal the muscle tissue,” senbon clanks again, as Genma grabs her medical record. “Damn, it’s a miracle that you’re alive in first place.”

“Damn indeed, but could you please tell me, maybe, just why am I here? And why was my heard damaged, or why I should be dead in first place?”

Genma looks at her, slightly disoriented, and she looks back, expectantly, and perhaps even hopeful. She hopes for answers, she hopes for-

“You remember nothing?” tokujo asks, and she sighs.

“Being impaled with a blade I’d say was a katana,” she answers truthfully, because yes, this is the last she remembers. Even if it’s not this body she remembers being impaled, it’s still truth.

“You see…” Genma scratches back of his neck, visibly thinking about how to phrase the explanation, and she just rolls her eyes. The suspense is awful, really, snd she wants to know whether she’s safe from Itachi for the time being, or not.

“Well?”

“Your cousin, Itachi, went all crazy and slaughtered the whole clan,” Genma blurts out with just one breath, and instantly his look screams ‘I shouldn’t have said that’, as he glances at her with worry.

He doesn’t see Renee’s face, as she bends it down and allows hair to hide it. But if he could see it, he would be startled by just how relieved she looked, and would surely label her off as a mentally unstable, she’s certain.

“Itachi the Pacifist, huh?” she says finally, looking up when she’s certain that nothing can betray her concealed urge to dance in happiness anymore. “Anyone else left alive or I’m the only one lucky enough?”

“Well,” Genma scratches his chin. “There’s also Itachi’s little brother, Sasuke. He, unlike you, was just simply spared.”

“And nobody else did, like me, survive?” she asks just for the sake of mood and accuracy, even if she knows that no, no one is an answer.

“No, no one,” tokujo answers. “You survived only because… Well. Your organs are misplaced. Mirrored. Your heart is on the right side, and Itachi aimed for left, and that’s why it was just scratched.”

Situs inversus, namely dextrocardia, Renee thinks. Holy shit, even that? It’s not like it hinders functioning or anything like that, but it’s super rare autosomal recessive genetic condition, and Renee, just like her grandmother before her, had it. The fact that this body she swapped into had it as well-

It was creepy. Unsettling. Eerie.

Renee doesn’t like that even one bit.

Chapter Text

"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them."
― Ernest Hemingway

Genma stays a bit longer after that, and all Renee can think of is 'god bless your kind soul' in the prism of the man. He also became more relaxed, after seeing that, after her initial freakout, she took the news in… Well. Very well, even, but then, it was him seeing things through his experiences and thoughts. Renee was mostly relieved that Itachi – the idiot, however good-natured and genius, still completely, absolutely moronic for believing Danzo and Obito – was out of concern for now, and hopefully would be for next six or so years.

She had time. And, despite herself, she is already plotting. She likes to believe that she was given this chance for a reason, and she wasn't the one to let it slip through her fingers. Life taught her to grab on every occasion to reach her goal, or to regret it forever.

But right now, she finds pestering Genma much more appealing, and really, she adores the guy with every fiber of her being. Live he seems even cooler than he did onscreen, and Renee is more than happy of the fact.

"I'm Shiranui Genma, by the way," tokujo says finally when they're done discussing over the massacre, and she almost bites her tongue in order of not saying 'I know'. So, instead, she introduces herself, too;

"I'm Ren," is all she says, because this name both is and isn't hers. Besides, she bets that he knows, and does it only to be polite, because Genma is the one who deserves to be polite to.

"Well, it that's all, I'm gonna get going," Tokujo says after a while, and Renee can't help as her lips form into a horseshoe of pout.

"But…" she starts. "It's so boring in here. So boring I think I'm going to die out of boredom, and-"

Genma chuckles. "All right, kid, what do you want?"

Did she mention that she absolutely adores this guy?

"A book, or two, or three-" she starts, cocking her head. "But bring me something about princesses, or glitter, or girly by standards, and I will bite."

This time Genma laughs, and ruffles Renee's hair. Normally, if this was someone else, she would have punched them already, because she absolutely hated people touching her hair. But this was Genma, and his hands were far from sweaty, and it was nice, so she decided to allow it.

"Anything specific except for not-girly?" he asks, and Renee hums silently.

"Folklore, legends, folktales," she answers. "And something to write on and with, perhaps? I like doodling, too."

"Can do that," tokujo says, standing up with a smile.

"Hey, by the way, why did you come?" Renee asks before he makes his way to the window (because who can forbid a ninja to do that?), and he stops. He turns his head around slowly, and smiles at her, warm and friendly.

"Because Hokage said that I'm the most experienced with traumatized kids, and I was the one free at the moment," he says. "Besides, nurse ran straight to Hokage's Office and requested that it must be a ninja."

Renee snorts, and doesn't even bother to feel bad about it, or the woman.

"Come by some other time. It gets boring, and pestering you is fun."

"If I'm free," he clicks the senbon between his teeth and smiles. And then jumps out of the window, and Renee wonders if that's what ninja just do. And if she will also develop unhealthy love of invading people through their windows and not the door.

If you need to talk, he doesn't say as he vanishes, a blurred shape on the rooftops.

When she closes her eyes, she isn't sure she dreams. It's too vivid, to real, and yet impossible enough to be. She is someone, she knows, and she walks, she runs, yet she can't bring herself to be happy, somehow.

She is on a party, and she knows it's birthday. Eleventh birthday, no less, and she knows that it can't be hers, because she doesn't remember hers, and the blurred silhouettes of people are wearing traditional Japanese clothing and-

These are memories, she realizes with a start.

These are memories of Uchiha Ren.

She wonders why. What's the cause of her re-living the life of a girl who was dead, whose skin she was wearing now. What's the cause, what's the reason, what's the point? She isn't Ren (and in the same time she is), per say. She never was or will be

(She dies about a month before her twelfth birthday, a silver-cold blade impaling her like a gruesome butterfly with wings of bloody pools underneath her.)

Realizing that, after the short nap she's taken, she knows much more about this current world, about her clan and everything else, is startling. It's as if the original Ren's memories were somewhere in there and waiting for an occasion to settle in, like a medicine or illness alike.

Unsettling, like many things that happened today.

Unsettling, like many things that were bound to happen.

Worst of all, her actual memories are still perfectly intact in there. And, whatever personality Ren's memories want to force unto her, they just slide off like water on the glass.

(She might be wearing her skin now, but she isn't becoming her. She despises herself, but she will not be anybody else. She can't be anybody else.

It feels wrong.)

Genma is nowhere to be found – but he was there're, surely, judging by the pile of books seated on pathetic imitation of a nightstand usually found in hospitals. Stack of four, for a good start, she thinks, and all of them are either folktales or legends, and Renee feels like hugging the lungs out of the tokujo, because anything keeping her from boredom is more than welcome.

And from her dream. That one was… Odd.

No, stop, she slaps herself mentally. That territory is wrong to explore.

So, instead, she just takes the first book, opens it (and don't find opening it backwards weird) and starts reading. She knows many kanji, she realizes, but some she also doesn't. She will have to learn, surely.

She's working her way through the last story of the first book, and chewing on what's supposed to be dinner that weary nurse brought her, when there's a knock on her door for the second time this day. She feels rather at ease, and she doesn't answer right away, stubbornly burying her nose in the book up until she reaches the end of the page. She will not bother to try to find where she ended if she can help it. And she can.

She finishes just when someone knocks for the second time.

"It's open!" she calls, annoyance vibrant in her voice, and door slide open- And Renee stops, fixing her gaze on elderly man in red-and-white robes that elderly man wears, and she knows it can't be good, because Yamanaka Inoichi is trailing right behind him with awfully sweet smile on his lips-

"Hello, Ren-chan," Sarutobi Hiruzen greets her, and her eyes narrow, as someone else tries to get into the room and she isn't having it. But then she sees that it's Genma, with one of his smug smiles, chewing on a senbon as always and she instantly feels her body relax.

"Do me a favor and don't use honorifics towards me, old man," she addresses Hokage, who doesn't even bother to hide his surprise at the statement. "They make me feel weird, especially those who soften the name. My mom was the only one who used to soften my name," she says, and something akin to compassion flickers through Village Head's face.

"Apologies, I hadn't known," Hiruzen answers, and she just shrugs in answer, saying nothing as Genma sits on the bed next to her feet.

"Happens," Renee nods, crossing her arms on her chest. "So, what do you want? If to say what I seen then… I've seen nothing. I haven't even seen Itachi, let alone bodies, and I heard nothing. Next thing I remember is waking up here."

"Oh," is what Hokage says in answer.

"So, I neither mind nor am capable of answering questions about massacre. To me, somebody could have been sent to assassinate only me just as well."

"It's good you're coping with it so well," Genma cuts in. "Same can't be said about Sasuke…"

Because, you idiot, Sasuke was confronted by his brother and put under goddamn Tsukiyomi for gods know how long, Renee wants to and can't tell. Because I'm from another world and I know it all, but it wasn't my family, my clan…

(Would I even care, had my family suffered the same fate?)

"What about Sasuke?" she asks, and finds herself surprised that she means it. She always disliked Sasuke, more and more with every next episode that featured him, and now… Thought of tiny, eight-year-old boy whose world just crumbled down, who has absolutely no one but his murderous, moronic brother…

No. Wait. She's an Uchiha now.

…

She is the only family left in Leaf that Sasuke has. Weird, that she hadn't realized it up until now, but it's true. Maybe not for herself, but for them she's a living, breathing survivor of the massacre. Sasuke's only family.

I wonder, would he turn into such asshole had there been anyone to actually take care of him? Of Sasuke, I mean, somebody asked her once.

I don't know, she answered truthfully then. To me he was always asshole, masking his fear and loneliness with anger and cold, refusing any help.

But right now, she wasn't some random stranger that boy could just tell to flip off.

(She hated children. She hated responsibility.)

"He's been very quiet, for last three days," Hiruzen says, and she snaps her head up to look at the man. "He speaks to no one, barely sleeps, and he has to be force-feed, lest he will starve. Now as I think of it, he doesn't speak at all."

"Does he even know, that he isn't the only one left alive?" she asks, and Hiruzen hums, patting his chin.

"I don't think anybody told him yet," Hokage answers. "Your state was severe enough that we were waiting for you to stabilize. For the first day you weren't in most promising condition. Even now you're risking a heart attack."

"Because my heart was damaged?" she asks, but she knows the answer.

Because heart attack happens when cells in muscle tissue of the heart don't receive enough ATP in time, tissue gets paralyzed and it stops pupping blood. But honestly, she doubts she would've even realized, since her chest hurts no matter what.

"That's why your earlier hysteria attack was such a big deal," Genma adds, clicking the senbon against his teeth. "Don't scare us like that anymore, 'kay?"

Renee just smiles and nods. Genma is really awesome person, and she knows it just fine. And she really respects him, too. He was, after all, in team with Ebisu and Guy of all people. That is respect-inducing, since he didn't become neither a neat freak nor over-exuberant youthful Beast of Leaf.

"I'm glad to see you are well," Hiruzen says, and Renee knows just fine that he's lying. In rough translation he means; I don't trust you with yourself and I'm most worried for your well-being, so there will always be one or two ANBU around just in a case, until I deem you stable enough.

Renee feels like snapping at him for that, but… That would be more trouble than it's worth. So she just shrugs and lets it pass.

(He is right, she realizes. She doesn't feel good with herself. With wearing somebody else's skin, with living somebody else's life.

It feels wrong. Renee is a worthless person. Ren, on the other hand, had a future.)

Genma stays after Hokage's visit, and Renee is, actually, grateful for that. Tokujo's company keeps her at bay from dark thoughts that have tendency to cloud her mind when she's alone and has nothing better to do. Genma on the other hand is funny, charismatic, patient and simply the coolest person ever.

(Maybe aside of Kisame, Orochimaru and Kakashi, but two out of three are totally beyond her reach, and would basically kill her on sight, and Kakashi is an ANBU still. And chances of one of Leaf's best being assigned as moody Uchiha kid's babysitter are… Very unlikely. Besides, she knows that well, Kakashi hates children.)

Right now, they're in the very middle of a battle of life and death.

Genma clicks senbon against his teeth, singular drop of sweat rolling down his cheek, as he finally says; "E-10."

"Nothing," Renee says, her smile widening notably, and Genma gulps. "How about…" she trails the paper with pen. "How about J-9?"

Genma pales, and she knows that she's won.

"Sunk," tokujo says, his voice grim, and she offers him the sweetest smile, happily crossing his ship over on her paper. That makes fourth time her victory out of five matches they played. "Don't you have any other game?" he huffs, puffing his cheeks. Renee just shrugs.

"Other games I know are about physical exercise, which is rather, uhm," she motions her hand to her chest, "contraindicated."

"Where did you even learns words like this?" he asks, rising his brows, and Renee offers him toothy, sheepish smile.

"I'm an Uchiha, remember? The no-longer-existing clan of perfection-freaks?" she says, crossing her hands on her chest. "The type of people who counted perfection as barely passable?"

"Man, that sounds awful," Genma agrees, nodding.

"It was expected that you'd have your sharingan awakened, and preferably matured, before eighth birthday," she says. "If you didn't, you were called an idiot and a disgrace."

"Ouch," tokujo says, genuinely compassionate. "Now as I hear it, it was really an awful clan, wasn't it?"

"Clan maybe not awful," Renee corrects, "but it's people. If something's awful, know it's because people making it up are shit."

Genma makes face at her word choice, and she just shrugs. She was always quite a bit of a foul-mouth, after all. And by quite a bit she meant that she could just as well curse around the way that would make seasoned sailor jealous.

She was, after all, very quick to offend people with her sole attitude.

(Spoiler: She didn't care.)

"Okay…" Genma says, eyeing her, and then at paper he holds. "Anything else you'd like to do to spend your time?"

"I'd like to dance around like there's no tomorrow," Renee admitted truthfully. "But my pulse would rise, and risk of my heart not managing with it, so I'm waiting the healing out."

"Oh, you like dancing?"

"Yeah," she shrugs. "I like music overall, but I can't really sing. I mean, I don't sound like a choking chicken, or anything," pause for Genma to let out small chuckle, "but I'm by no means good. I can't hit them notes properly, but my feet can, so, I'm not complaining."

That gave her a matter to think about. She apparently couldn't speak, and even thing in English, magically having lost the ability (and the idea of secretly taking notes in English, so popular in fanfics she read, just died). What would her singing songs turn out? Would they even make sense in the first place?

Well, that's a matter to try. Later. When there's no Genma she could embarrass herself to around. She didn't care about ANBU or nurses, let them be tormented by her falsifications in tunes.

"If I'm to be honest, dancing can be useful in taijutsu," Genma says, catching her attention. "Makes moves more fluid, more… Dancing," he chuckles, making Renee snort, "haven't tried myself, though, just seen it."

"Shame," Renee admits. "I'd like to see you dance. I'm sure you'd get the moves better than right."

"Oh you," tokujo waves his hand before his face, and then jabs is fingers at Renee's shoulder. "You little flattering brat."

She grinned at him widely. "At your service."

She was seven, when she activated her sharingan for the first time. She was seven, when she nearly drowned, trying to save a puppy that Fugaku threw into ice-cold water of the lake.

(You're not an Inuzuka, he said to her and the other girl she found the puppy with. The other girl was too frightened, but not her. She dove right in, muscles freezing right that instant, but she didn't, couldn't give up.)

She caught the dog and threw it out and onto the shore, but that was all the coolness of water allowed her.

Fugaku helped her out, but only because of red, she knew. Of eerie crimson swirling in her eyes, sharpening her vision. Of the eerie red she stared him down with it, even if he was twice her height.

(You're pathetic excuse of a man, she had told him then, and watched in satisfaction as his face twisted into rage and shock.

You're despicable, indeed.)

There's something, akin to sick satisfaction, knowing, that she talked back to the head of the clan. Ren, that is.

Renee would never be able to do it.

(She might be wrong. Her grandmother was, after all, much worse than Fugaku ever could. She refused to acknowledge it.)

She could have graduated early. Maybe even as early, as Itachi did. She was no match for his natural genius, but with certain amount of work she, surely, could be. But… Why bother? It was what Fugaku wanted. What elders wanted. Not what she wanted.

She never asked to be born into this cursed clan. She never asked to be cursed with its bloodline. She refused to do what was expected of her.

But all she could do was writing down her frustrations in her diary.

Diary. So many answers for your questions. Your identity.

Are you Ren, or are you Renee?

(There isn't always a choice, and yet, there always is.

Look underneath of the underneath.)

She wakes with a start, gasping for air, as the realization hit her, hard. But realization of what, she didn't know. It was still rather dark around, and she was gasping for air, her chest radiating with notable less pain than yesterday.

Whatever medicaments they had her on were working miracles. But then, medicine in ninja world was wound-oriented, be it stabs, burns, cuts, and other pleasant things like that. They knew what they were supposed to do.

And, right now, she had some time to think calmly about latest events. Honestly, she… Didn't really feel bad about dying. Being reincarnated and forced to wear somebody's else's skin was far worse than death could ever be, but… Was it really someone else? It was an eerie feeling, deep inside her gut, but she knew, that part of her already accepted the fact.

Are you Ren, or are you Renee?

She closes her eyes, clenching her fists and biting her lip. She wants to scream in frustration, yell out loud to the skies.

I don't know, she wants to yell. How the hell am I supposed to know?!

(No. Wait. Stop, hold it there. Breath in, breath out. Remember just how much you loathe those emo-emo-desu OC characters people from Old World created maniacally? Yeah, that type of characters.)

She takes a deep breath in order to calm herself.

"You, with the sad eyes, don't be discouraged ,
Though I realize, it's hard to take courage
In a world full of people, you can lose sight of it
And the darkness inside you makes you feel so small."

She was more whispering than singing, but remembering that song itself made her feel better. Also, id didn't sound weird, although definitely Japanese. She was glad.

But… But what were her true colors?

(There isn't always a choice, and yet, there always is.

Look underneath of the underneath.)

Startling realization, but she wasn't startled in the slightest. Because deep down, she knew that she was Ren. She wants to be Ren. She is Ren.

She will live her life. She will live it with pride and no regrets. She will be the Ren that Renee could never be. She will be herself.

Chapter Text

"Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery."
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

It's a bit startling when, on the prime of the fourth day of her being Ren, and seventh in total after the massacre, Hokage finally brings Sasuke to hospital; to her. It's completely unexpected, to be frank, thus it catches her by surprise, despite the fact that she was almost anticipating the moment of meeting the boy who now was her cousin. And she just stares, and can't fully come to believe her eyes.

This… Is not what she has been expecting.

But then, she doesn't really know what she's been expecting.

Not this, for sure.

Because the Sasuke that Hokage brings to her hospital room is… Different from what she always knew. He's still, and pale, and looks like a ghost. There are dark circles under his reddened eyes, blood vessels in his sclera popped, making him look as if he hasn't slept for whole week, crying instead… But from what Hokage had told her earlier, this might just exactly be the case. He looks skinny, and old, much older than an eight-year-old should mentally be., especially his eyes.

His eyes are empty, yet sad, and weary. There's unspoken grief within the boy, yet Ren cannot bring herself to pity him.

He wouldn't want that, something within her says. He loathes pity, even if this loathing is caused only be sheer amount of it. Everybody pities poor Uchiha survivor. Because he's just poor, poor child…

Bullshit.

Fucking load of crap, if you ask her.

"When is the last time you slept, kid?" Ren asks, narrowing her eyes at the boy, and he looks at her with pure surprise flickering among his features. Because she says it expectantly, as if she was scolding him. No trace of pity; pity he was most likely expecting, judging by his reaction.

No such luck.

"I… I don't remember," he answers truthfully and barely audible. "I can't sleep. I have nightmares."

Hokage looks between the two, uncertain at first, but then he smiles.

"If you excuse me now, all the paperwork on my desk won't do itself," he says, and it's farewell for today. Sly old fart, but the one she likes nonetheless.

"Sure, bye," Ren rolls her eyes as the man takes his leave. If anything, Sasuke now starts looking even more miserable, without Hokage to hide behind. Not like she cares that much. "Come here, kid."

Sasuke looks uncertain, weary even. Not quite sure whether he should obey or bolt out of the room, far away from it all, from her. He's like a frightened animal, which, frankly and from scientific point of view, is exactly what he is. Can he be blamed, though? How old is he? Eight? Maybe even less; he sure looks less. And yet, his beloved older brother slaughtered his whole clan, and kept him in Tsukuyomi for gods know how long. That was a dick move, even Ren had to admit. Especially since Sasuke worshipped his brother, and he did it to save him-

But then, she never accounted Itachi among particularly wise people. Smart, sure, but actually clever? You wish. Clever person would hardly allow themselves to be manipulated by piece of trash that is Danzo, and sunshine ray but currently-also-a-piece-of-trash that was Obito. All it took was going to Hokage; the kind, old man who would find a solution, and perhaps, when exposed, finally get rid of Danzo and spare her the problem of doing it herself.

(Because she sure as hell isn't letting this man, compared to who Orochimaru can be called a saint and an angel, anywhere near her. Nor even near Sasuke, even if she isn't exactly fond of the boy. Just… No one deserves to remain in Danzo's close proximity for longer than five minutes.

That man is a sickness. A cancer, and she will cut it out. Ruthlessly.)

Sasuke lets his head fall dawn as he takes one small, uncertain step. But it's a step forward, to her. It's an accomplishment.

"I don't bite," she says, managing to successfully sound offended. And, sure enough, there's a flicker of humor somewhere in boy's features. Small and fleeting, but surely there, for split of a second. So, Ren waits as Sasuke, slowly and uncertainly makes his way up until he's standing right next to her bed.

He's scared and confused, that much is apparent. And as much as Ren wants to dislike him, just like she did before, she can't. She looks at this pale face ridden with grief, at those slumped shoulders, at emptiness and sadness in his eyes, and she can't. He is not that arrogant, overly-prideful and revenge-driven madman she's grown to dislike so much before.

(She somehow can't imagine him becoming one either, looking at the boy now.)

Ren doesn't say anything to the boy. Instead, she raises her hand and places it on the top of his head. He stiffens at first, and she knows exactly why, but she isn't Itachi, and she isn't set on becoming him either. Besides, the 'Uchiha forehead poke' is trademark affectionate move between the brothers, had they choose to reconcile somewhere in the future.

(Maybe they will. She won't encourage it, but she won't discourage it either. It's their to work out, will Sasuke ever find out the truth.)

"You're alive," is the only thing Sasuke says, staring at her wide-eyed, and Ren makes a choking, offended sound at the boy.

"You thought I'm a ghost or something?" she asks, and Sasuke nods, blush creeping up his neck, eyes glistening with faintest of hope and embarrassment.

"They didn't tell me," he says, and there's something bitter in his words, and anger directed towards those who decided to keep the secret from him. "Until this morning, Hokage came, and he said you-"

"They didn't want to give you false hope," Ren straightens, and he shoots her a questioning look. "I wasn't stable for the first few days, you know, with my heart nearly pierced and all. It's still weak, but I'm much better now. They didn't want to tell you that I'm alive when I almost wasn't."

(And if her voice is much softer that she intended it to be, well. She's in shock still, isn't she?)

"Oh," is all she gets in answer.

There's more silence, as Sasuke looks around the room, visibly a bit better, but still uncertain. He barely stands, that much is obvious.

"C'mere," she hisses, grabbing the boy by the shirt and dragging him onto her lap, so his back hugs her chest. Sasuke squeaks in surprise, trying to writhe his way out of the hold, but she has her arms wrapped around him, stronger than she thought she could be, and there's no letting go.

"Let me go!" Sasuke growls, but it's weak and he doesn't really mean it. Ren sighs in answer, burying her face in his hair.

"You're such an idiot, Sasuke," she says, and does loosen her arms. He, however, makes no move to get away. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"Can I sleep here?" he asks, and Ren knows that by 'here' he means exactly this room and this bed.

Stop it right there, she thinks to herself. This is Sasuke. Fucking Sasuke Emochiha, one of few characters you really tend to dislike, not a poor, stray kitten. Moreover, he's a kid-

"Sure," Ren says before she can bite her tongue and give herself time to rethink and regret many, many poor life choices she made. "I'll ask nurse for additional blanket. I hate sharing, you know," she winks at the boy, and she can swear there's faint ghost of a smile on his lips.

-and you hate kids.

It's reassuring, Sasuke decides, having claimed Ren's blanket and wrapped himself in it. It's reassuring that he isn't the only one left, that there is someone else besides him, that isn't Itachi, who is alive…

That satisfaction, that almost sick satisfaction to know that Itachi had failed, that he didn't kill everyone, it's enough to make him almost better for a while.

"How are you so happy?" he asks, and that catches Ren completely off-guard. She looks at him, thinking and confused, but she visibly understands the question.

"I… I don't remember it, you know. The massacre. Just me getting a blade through my chest," she answers after a longer pause, visibly trying to phrase it right. "It's just… I don't think that the news settled in yet. That everyone else is… Gone."

To be honest, he doesn't really believe that fully, either. An he's been there, seen them all – and he still wants to wake up, to prove that this is some sort of sick, twisted dream… But he can't. Somewhere deep down, he knows there's no waking up from this nightmare, because this nightmare is reality. There's no other way than to live through it.

But Ren is with him, kindred blood, and alive, and warm right next to him, and he feels better, because she's warm, and he can touch her, and her breath is calm as she reads her book, an she radiates warmth only a living person can.

(Maybe, in a different life, there is no Ren. Maybe, in another life, he is just loneliness and darkness, and negativity just rotting his soul.)

Sasuke yawns, for the first time in whole week feeling really, genuinely tired and ready to sleep, not just mindlessly slip in and out of consciousness his body forces him into to rest a bit. He curls on uncomfortable hospital bed, cocooned with Ren's blanket that smells just like her, with his head on her lap as she still reads her book (it's only barely past noon).

He doesn't care for the time of day, or for sunlight rays shining through the window, from which Ren shields him anyway with how she sits. He just closes her eyes and slips away, into first restful sleep in a long while.

This time he dreams of red, three whirling tomoe. But they are different, and he realizes that this isn't Itachi. It's Ren's sole presence, fending nightmares off.

This was… Unexpected, Ren decides, looking at the small body, curled right next to her with his small fist closed around the material of her hospital pajama. He's dead to the world, sound asleep and she can't help but to smile at that.

Even greatest assholes-to-be can look cute when asleep, it seems.

But then, she didn't mean it. Being nice to Sasuke, that is, because she has always disliked that needlessly emo, revenge-driven kid. But it wasn't him. Well, it was, but… Not exactly, is all. Right now he was a hurt child, suddenly so alone in the world, and she was the only remaining kindred blood (except for Itachi, who was out of the list for obvious concerns and reasons, and Obito, calling himself Madara, mind-controlled and assumed dead long time ago), an anchor, perhaps even for his sanity. And she isn't sure whether or not she likes it.

But then, she realizes, she's gotten a head-start, sort of. She could still change some of the events, fix the wrongs Kishimoto did that made fans – herself included – wince and ask themselves 'just what the hell', and maybe, just maybe, she could even prevent Sasuke from becoming such an asshole-

Shit.

She already made her decision, has she not? She would have liked it more had her reason and logic any say in it, but... Oh well.

Shit happens, and she was never a lucky person.

(Or maybe she just lacked proper social skills.

Or both. Likely both.)

When she awakes again, she both is and isn't surprised, because somewhere deep down in the back of her mind, she expected it. Especially after seeing the boy in the state he was, and she wasn't entirely sure if she was annoyed, frightened or struck by nearly-overwhelming adorableness where it shouldn't exist.

Sasuke… Shouldn't be cute. Not really, not ever, especially not now.

On the other hand, he shouldn't exactly be cuddling with her, either. And by cuddling, she meant being completely latched to her side, with arm and leg thrown over her, and her own arm (traitor!) around the boy. But then, it was morning, or it seemed like morning, and he was still sound asleep, and not even stirring, so she decided to let it go, for now. Gods knew the kid needed sleep right now, after week-long deprival of it.

(Humans should die after more than seventy-two hours without sleep, but then, it was ninja world, ninja magic and ninja logic, by far easily defiling many things she had learned back when she was Renne Archer and fifteen, pretending to be smart and important, as she got into the best High School in town.)

So Ren just sighs, but makes no move to free herself from the small and warm (mostly warm) body pressed tightly to her side, and doesn't even move her hand. Maybe… Maybe it means something, something akin to acceptance, but she doesn't feel like sparing it a thought. No need to depress herself further.

Instead, she just allows herself to slip in and out of consciousness, in blissful, awake-but-not-entirely state she loves so much. The state in which one's mind is still sleep-ridden, but awake enough to be partly aware, and she enjoys this state in particular. Believe it or not, but most of her creativity comes from there, as during that time her mind usually clears in bliss.

It lasts up until there's soft sound of door opening, and Ren moves her head up only to see the nurse, the same one as four (five?) days ago slip in with a tray in her hands. That, Ren concludes, is a sign to move her lazy ass.

(Not that she's happy about it, but there's food.)

"Squirt, wake up," she mutters into Sasuke's hair, gripping his shoulder and shaking him gently. Boy stirs, emits some sort of disagreeing sound and latches himself even tighter to her in protest. Thankfully, Ren isn't the one for sentiments or cooing over the boy, unlike the nurse, so she shakes him a bit harder and repeats a bit louder. This time, it works… More or less.

Sasuke mutters something that doesn't really sound like a word that should be used in public, but Ren couldn't care less, because half of her vocabulary usually consists of those. Just, she'd rather refrain from using those… Yet.

(Her mind might me thirty, but her body is barely almost twelve and children shouldn't exactly know such words.

But she knows that she will make a name for herself nonetheless, thanks to them.)

"Neh?" is the closest thing to actually world that boy actually makes, as he slowly sits up and rubs his eyes. Ren can practically hear the nurse swooning, and she shots the woman a very ill-meaning glare, which, along the lines, says something like he's eight you harpy, and the woman, smarter than she seems, tactically flees the room. The tray, with food enough for two people, remains on the nightstand.

"You hungry, squirt?" she asks, and Sasuke looks at her, makes a face-

And his stomach growls. Loudly.

"Take it for a yes, then," she snorts, sitting up and dragging the tray over to seat it on her knees. Thankfully, it's not rice, because the first time nurse brought her rice was the last, as it ended up on the wall, and the woman barely dodged the tray and yelled insult. Because Ren hates rice with passion – rice products, however, those she can stand, as long as they don't taste much as the original. Thus, rice bread is more than acceptable, and if Sasuke's eyes lit up at the sight of fresh, red tomatoes, she doesn't feel like commenting.

And if she leaves some extra of her portion, and just shrugs when he asks if he can have it but slides his way nonetheless, it's not caring for his health.

Definitely not.

Sasuke doesn't seem to mind Genma around, which is actually good. The tokujo has been briefed by Hokage due to the boy, and warned, that he most likely won't be as nearly welcoming towards the man as his cousin. Thankfully, he wasn't antagonistic either, which was a great relief. Although, Genma knew just fine that he was indifferent rather than antagonistic only because Ren greeted him rather enthusiastically, and if the way Sasuke almost desperately clung to her side indicates anything, it's that the boy isn't going to be too unhappy about the visit.

That definitely helps.

"Hi, Genma," Ren cheers, and tokujo can't help but notice the lack of any honorific whatsoever, but then, Ren is an Uchiha and they have their oddities, so he just let's it slide, because he sure does have soft spot for the kid.

(But then, he always does have soft spots for kids, and even if he tries to strangle Aoba every tie the man makes chicken noises, he is right. Genma does have mother hen instincts, no matter how hard he denies it.)

"Hey, kids," he says, just planting himself on the bed next to them like it's his rightful place. Sasuke eyes him wearily, but doesn't move an inch from where he practically tries to glue himself to Ren's side, so it's sort of success.

"Came to loose yet again," she asks much to sweetly and tokujo shakes his head almost instantly. No, he did not come here to shame himself. Again.

"Actually, I came to tell you they they'll be letting you go tomorrow," he says instead, and doesn't miss how emotions flicker through Sasuke's face, as he looks up at the girl. "Said you could use some rest someplace more comfortable that hospital."

"I take it old man isn't going to put us in compound?" she rather says than asks, even if it sounds like a question, and Sasuke grips her hospital robe so hard his knuckles go white.

"No," Genma shakes his head. "By the time being, he's allowing you to stay at Hokage's Estate. By the time you make genin and be able to afford your own money, he'll find you somewhere to live."

"Thank fuck not the compound," Ren says, rolling her eyes, and tokujo makes a sound as if he's offended by her choice of words, but the he glances at Sasuke, and the boy is almost smirking. This… This is good. As long as he won't pick up some words from his older cousin that slip her quite often, that is.

"That's all I'm here to pass, sorry," he says, and he means it. "I'm off for a mission tomorrow, so I won't be bothering you for a while."

"I don't care if you're bothering me, how will I go about without bothering you?!" Ren huffs, playing exasperation perfectly, and Genma just chuckles.

Yes, he definitely has soft spot for the kid.

"No!"

Ren looks at Sasuke, surprised, perhaps even more than the Hokage standing before them, and the two people behind the man. Boy doesn't seem to notice, though, as he hurries behind his older cousin and grips her sleeve, looking at Hiruzen as if he was currently world's greatest plague.

"But Sasuke-" woman tries to soothe him, and this time, it's Ren who snaps.

"Shut it!" she hisses the way that could perhaps make even Orochimaru jealous, and clenches her fists. "Shut it, shut up, ad get the fuck out! If you think I'm letting you adopt Sasuke, well, then you're fucking wrong!"

Behind her she can feel the boy nodding fiercely, and Hiruzen looks somewhere in between offended, amused, scared and decided. The pair behind him, however, is… Not as understanding.

"We can take Sasuke off your shoulders," man proposes. "So you can finish academy further improve!"

Because you're a child and not suited to care for another child, he doesn't say. Doesn't matter, Ren hears it anyway. And she's furious. So furious that she can't even control it, stop it, when a warm-cold tickle creeps up her eyes and world suddenly becomes sharper. As something burning-hot builds up in her lungs and throat, waiting to be released.

Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu. She is certain she could do it, if she wanted, and could just see those two pests burn and wither. And she's certain that she would feel some odd sense of satisfaction in it, but-

But no. Irrational, infamous Uchiha emotionality has made her put on a show enough. And if she's connecting facts correctly, she has just turned on the sharingan, and she had no idea how to turn it off, really.

Not that it mattered.

"And I could take your head off your shoulders," she growls. "So your body would be lighter, and I doubt anyone would notice a difference."

Hiruzen sighs, and looks at the pair, somewhat expectantly. He didn't bring them here – in fact, they came in on their own account, shortly after Genma departed, and have been testing Ren's patience for about an hour already.

Testing the fireball on them becomes more and more tempting thought by the second, Ren decides, and Hiruzen must realize it too, because he puts his hand on man's shoulder and says, gently yet sharply;

"I do believe that separating the two, especially now, would prove-"

"Impossible," Ren finishes instead of him, and there's no saying that she isn't right, with the way Sasuke clings to her. "I'm taking care of him, and next person who comes asking to adopt either one of us will become my training dummy for fireballs!"

It's irrational, illogical and stupid. But she's an Uchiha now, and they are exactly just that, especially when tested like this, and Ren has yet to work out Renee's patience and cold calculative mind here.

And after seeing Sasuke, and failing to see all these things she hated in him, she just can't leave the boy alone. Itachi is getting knee to the face for that, but kid is her responsibility now, and heaven her witness, she will be the best damn older sister the boy could even dream off.

The patterns are swapped, and it's done, and it's not her time to ask for who's and why's, not yet. Now, she decides, it is time to knit the fate.