FicWad

"Well?"

Misaki held her defensive pose. For a moment, she didn't want to attack Ibiki even if only in training. Orochimaru-sama would despair over how weak she was. Yet, at the moment, the pale man and her uncle were of the same mind: she needed to get stronger. It was an interesting dichotomy.

"Don't hold back," Ibiki ordered her sternly. "Never hold back. Not here or on the battlefield."

Misaki heard the same rule over and over: attack or be attacked.

From nearby, the timer buzzed. A tremor of relief raced through Misaki. The training was over. She had been saved-today.

"Hey, if you put more in heart in your training, maybe you'll be ready for the chunin exams by this time next year."

He had to be teasing her. She was barely a genin. Yet, in her heart, Misaki was still pleased at her progress, but she could hear an infernal tune from the sound...

I'm a hidden sound ninja.

That fact could not be denied. But, in truth, Misaki didn't know what she was. Was she a Hidden Grass ninja from her supposed birthplace, the Kusagakure? A Hidden Sound ninja The Otogakure? Or could she be a Hidden Leaf ninja from the Konohagakure. Silently, she cursed her father. Why did he have to leave their ancestral home?

At her prolonged pause, her uncle stared at her. Misaki had too much on her mind to speak.

"Sometimes I wish knew what you were thinking." Ibiki shook his head

Misaki shivered. It was as if someone had dunked her in ice water.

"And why is that?"

"It's my favorite hobby. Suggestive interrogation." Ibiki's forthcoming grin could be described as wolfish.

What would Ibiki do to her if his wish was granted?

She wondered if her meekness was really her own personality trait or a façade that allowed her to survive in the world a day longer. If only she could peel away her lost memories like a piece of fruit. What would she find there? Worms? Rot? Anything?

Well, at last now, maybe she should finally say something. Misaki had no difficulty believing that Kabuto would kill her if he felt that she was shirking her assignment.

Misaki struggled to find the words. Is it hard doing what you do?

Ibiki looked genuinely intrigued as he folded his arms across his chest in a defensive posture. "Well...not for me. Why that question?"

"I just want to understand your line of work better." It sounded like such a lame excuse.

"That's surprising." Ibiki replied simply.

How different the two were. Misaki wanted to break out into the light while Ibiki ventured further into the dark. Obviously, they contained two different strains of genetics.

Misaki nervously tapped her foot. Well, Ibiki was already suspicious, and there was an an opening to ask. It was now or never. "Could you...give me a tour of the T & I headquarters?"

Ibiki's fingers stroked his chin with serious consideration before he laughed in her face

"You know, Misaki, you're actually funny. I didn't note that at first. You must get it from my brother. He was always screwing around."

Misaki decided not to press any further. She had been too obvious.

"You're light years away from that," Ibiki scoffed. "The sights of the prisoners are not for you."

Misaki could feel herself shrinking smaller and smaller. So, she really couldn't convince him to take her anywhere. She was not as sly as a snake. Instead, if she could be anything, she would compare herself to a hummingbird; a tiny creature keeping itself airborne while gathering as much nectar as she could before she was swatted away. Kabuto had put too much faith in her.

Misaki's training had ended in disappointment, and outside, she was nearly instantly spotted by Ino. Misaki hesitated. Great. She really wasn't in the mood for company.

"Hi, Misaki!" At the sight of Misaki's face, Ino slowed. "What's wrong? You look glum."

"I wanted Ibiki-sensei to to take me inside T & I," Misaki confessed. It couldn't hurt to tell the truth.

"That's where my father works!" Ino squeaked

Misaki was instantly alert. "Really?" She tried to sound blasé.

It was so unexpected. Such a stroke of luck. Maybe there was a sliver of hope.

"Why do you want to see that stuff anyway Misaki-chan? You're too nice."

Misaki lowered her head as heat rushed through her. Was that really true? Misaki didn't know herself any more.

"So, can I visit if I go with you?"

Ino cocked her head to the side. "It doesn't really work like that. You should really ask your uncle first. Also, I'm used to it. It's not a place for a casual visit. Security risks and all."

So. That's the way it was. After all, she hadn't been born here. She was an outsider.

But then, what would she even do in there. What secrets could she possibly learn? How would she begin? She tried to ask Kabuto, but he wouldn't give her a hint.

Nearby, A portly boy carrying a bag of chips came into view.

"I don't think you've met Chouji yet, have you? Hey Chouji! Get over here!"

At Ino's greeting, he jogged over.

"What's up?" Misaki watched as his eyes slowly panned over Ino then settled on Misaki herself. "Who's this?

"This is Morino Misaki," Ino explained. "You know her uncle."

"Oh, hi there."

Misaki found that that Chouji's hand was salty when she grasped it. The look on his face was priceless when she asked him to try one. Misaki knew that potato chips existed, but she had never tried one before. The Otogakure hadn't been a fan of snacks or junk food. In her short life, she had hardly been alive.

To her surprise, the crisp chip nearly cut the inside of her cheek. In any event, Misaki preferred sweet to salty or sour.

In truth, the sight and interactions of the daylight world were just distractions compared to when she opened herself to the hidden thoughts that lurked inside...

Kabuto...

For a moment, her heart ached and the strain of it confused her. Oh, he would never feel the same for her. He regarded her as a game that he would eventually win. As for the prize...

It would be Thursday morning soon, and all her efforts were wasted if she didn't find any information that was tangible. In any event, she had until sunset on friday

She could not meet Kabuto empty handed. For her own safety.