Sukoru stared at the small, framed photo without so much as a flicker of emotion passing across her features. It was, as far as anybody was aware, the only picture of her that existed. It showed Minato and Kushina smiling brightly at the camera, Naruto peeking up from above their shoulders from where he was perched on his father's back. What she was staring at however, was the lump of Kushina's stomach that was just pronounced enough to be noticeable.
"I remember that day," Naruto said, voice subdued. "It was the day our parents told me that I was going to have a sister. I didn't understand of course, for the longest time I thought you were going to be a fox and we were just getting a pet. I got a lot of mixed signals back then from mom being a Jinchuuriki. But I remember being really happy with the idea." He screwed up his eyes for a moment, trying to throw his mind back to when he was that young; it was difficult.
"I remember thinking that it would be a lot of fun to boss you around," he mused, lips quirking up at the edges. "I think I was going to teach you some tricks. By the time I figured out what having a sister actually meant… actually, I don't think my ideas changed all that much. Funny how that works, me being the Hokage and you technically a shinobi under my command." He looked down, but she didn't so much as move through his entire speech.
"If I understand correctly, you are trying to form some empathetic bond with me, yes?"
She could see him try to repress the wince; he did that quite often when she spoke. Such poor control of one's reactions would have been harshly punished in Root.
"I'm not trying Sukoru, you're my sister. We're family."
"That is the part I do not understand. What does us being biologically related have to do with any affectations or special considerations. Our relationship as I understand it is that you are my Hokage, and I am your tool. All of this…" she glanced down at the picture again, something uncomfortable rising in the back of her mind "…all of this,seems unnecessary."
"You're only saying that because you don't know any better."
"You are saying I am deficient in some manner?"
"No." Naruto was in front of her in a flash, kneeling and holding her hands; she showed no response to the act, not even trying to pull her hands away. "I don't think that at all, but what Danzo's done to you… it shouldn't have been this way. You were supposed to grow up with me, make friends, have a family."
"I was instructed that dwelling on alternative possibilities to unaccountable situations was inefficient and detrimental to subsequent mission success."
Naruto sighed as he straightened up, taking the place on the couch next to her and pulling her gently into his side. "In a way, you're right."
Sukoru wasn't sure what to make of the situation, nothing in her training had ever prepared her for this. However, when that strange fluttering feeling rose in her stomach again, seemingly a reaction to the warmth of the body next to her, she knew to crush it down. That was always the response; feeling was weakness, emotion a distraction. Her training hadn't been put to such extensive use since she had put a sword through the boy that had truly been her brother.
"Alright Sukoru, we're going to run through a different scenario now."
This was the third Yamanaka she had been introduced to; Inoichi only seemed to supervise her sessions, likely doing much of the planning before handing it off to another member of his family. Sukoru didn't see much in the point of it; the questions were always inane. The frustrating part – that was the label they had given the irritating sensation when it cropped up – was that despite her perfectly logical answers they always disagreed with her.
That was another one, disappointment. She knew of the emotions and their effects in a purely academic sense; they were important to recognise in others; putting a name to them when she was apparently feeling them though? That was something else.
"Very well."
"Alright. You're in a shop, buying food and you've noticed the clerk is over-charging you. What do you do?"
Sukoru kept her face restrained, but could feel the first flutters of irritation. It was like a phantom burn at the back of her mouth, that was how she remembered it. What was the purpose of this? In Root rations had always been provided as needed; it was a much more effective system than acquiring the food for oneself. She settled her thoughts and instead pretended she was on a mission, strange occurrences often happened on missions.
"I presume I do not have the money to afford the over-priced food?" She found that offering counter-questions often seemed to improve the mood of the interviewer; they called themselves a therapist but she remained unconvinced this wasn't some elaborate form of interrogation. She personally believed Root's methods to be far more succinct and effective.
"Let's say you have the money."
"Then I accept the over-pricing, as long as I obtain the food then there is little other purpose in holding excess money."
There it was, the man often kept his expression schooled into a serene smile, but the slight downward cast of his eyes was indicative of a wrong answer.
"But what if you wanted to spend the money on something else?"
"Such as?" She couldn't think of what else money might acquire her. Although, applying the logic that they expected her to purchase food, it stood to reason all of her equipment would be self-funded. However, she knew for a fact that kunai and standard mission-ware were provided to regular shinobi based on the mission parameters. "By definition anything purchased that is not an amenity would be a luxury and is therefore extraneous."
The man didn't sigh, the first one had done that a lot, but they had rotated him out. She knew the signs though; for all they thought her emotionally stunted, she could recognise the subtle shifts in their body language.
"Let's say you don't have the money then."
Anko cursed lightly as she crested the bottom of the stairs; she used to have great fun bounding down them or occasionally sliding down the bannisters. Nowadays she was lucky if she could make it down one flight without her ankles swelling up, her back throwing a tantrum and feeling generally nauseous. She was still excited about having a kid, but damn would the little brat have some making-up to do for the hell she was going through.
One of the few upsides of all this was having a partner that could teleport. Honestly, even she was disgusted by some of the odd craving she'd been having, but having somebody who could effectively go anywhere in the country to pick up whatever she needed was a blessing. Right now, she was desperately hankering for some melon, after basically a lifetime of barely touching the fruit. It was often disconcerting how much her hormones seemed able to influence her decisions.
She paused in the living room, observing the thatch of messy blonde hair poking up over the back of the couch. She tried her best to be tolerant of Naruto's little sister; she was as supportive as possible over all this, still able to remember a time when the loss had been a fresh wound to the redhead. She couldn't deny though, that she found the girl's tacit lack of outward emotion more than a little creepy.
She sighed; Naruto clearly wanted to be there for his sister as much as possible, but he was still the Hokage and couldn't spent too much time away from the office. That left Sukoru alone much of the day; she mostly pottered around the house aimlessly. Often though, she just sat there on the couch, hands folded over each other as she stared at a wall. It could be mistaken for meditation, but Anko knew what meditation looked like. Sukoru just sat there, doing nothing.
"Never thought about getting a hobby?" She asked, unsurprised when Sukoru didn't seem startled by her presence. The creak of her coming down the stairs was enough of a giveaway.
"What do you mean?"
She waddled around the couch, settling into the big plush chair that had increasingly become her happy-place over the past few months. "You know, something to do during the day when you can't be around other people."
"I've been prohibited from training until my evaluations are complete."
She rolled her eyes; it was difficult to remember that, for all Sukoru had been taught, and her education had been extensive, it was a very… directed, education, prone to gaps that others took for granted.
"Training isn't a hobby." Unless your name was Might Gai, but she left that part out. "Hobbies are…" She blinked, actually drawing a blank on the best way to explain. "Hobbies are a way to blow off steam when other aspects of your life become too stressful."
"Operatives are encouraged to engage in physical activity when unduly stressed."
"And you're back to training. You've got the wrong end of the stick kid, hobbies aren't something to do towards any specific goal, it's something you do for the pleasure of doing it."
"I assume you do not mean the generic satisfaction of completing an assigned task, such as becoming competent in a new technique."
"No, I mean actual pleasure. For instance, I enjoy a good tea ceremony, and have spent a lot of time learning how to perform many varieties. I do this because it's relaxing, not because I'd get any particular utility out of it."
"I can think of many useful skills the knowledge of tea ceremonies provides."
Anko clicked her tongue irritably. "How can I put this in a way you understand?" Her fingers drummed a rhythmic beat on the armrest. "I assume they made you pretty good with kunai in Root?"
"All operatives were required to have adequate skill with a number of different weapons, I personally had exceptional skill and accuracy with shurikenjutsu."
"See, now if I didn't know you any better, I'd assume that was a hint of pride poking out of your mask."
Sukoru said nothing to this, just staring at her blankly.
"Right, so you can hit a target, that's a useful skill. Do me a favour and grab some of those rubber balls Naruto keeps in his study."
"I was specifically instructed that the study was off-limits; I cannot disobey an order from the Hokage, it breaks the chain of command."
Anko grinned, hauling herself off the chair only to plop down next to the girl, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "But you're his little sister, and little sisters always disobey their big brothers; he wants you to be his little sister a lot more than he wants to be your Hokage, right?"
Sukoru just nodded. "He has made that very clear."
"Good, then go get the balls."
The slightest crease appeared in Sukoru's brow, the closest she came to showing anything. After a moment's thought she stood and hurried up the stairs, returning moments later with a box of rubber balls. "This feels irregular."
"That's the spirit. Now, watch me closely." She grunted slightly as she leaned forward to pick three balls out of the box, saying, "can you see the utility in this?" as she began juggling the balls with adroit skill.
Sukoru watched carefully as the balls exchanged hands, moving up and down as Anko played with the throwing height. "I can see how the exercise would improve hand-eye coordination and dexterity."
"You're thinking too mechanically, can you see any inherent use in the act itself?"
"No, it seems to be a pointless display of a debatably useless skill."
"Good," Anko chirped happily, suddenly redirecting the balls and forcing Sukoru to catch them awkwardly. "Now you try."
Sukoru stared at her sceptically, which was more of an expression than she usually had. "And this is a… hobby?"
The woman shrugged. "Hobbies are usually extensions of a pre-existing skill or interest that, in of themselves, don't serve any inherent point other than to improve the skill. You're good at throwing kunai, ergo, you should be pretty good with juggling."
The blonde looked back down at the balls and tried to copy Anko's movements, only serving to quickly scatter the balls around the room and earn a laugh from the older woman. She wasn't sure what the feeling was that flamed up inside her, but for once she didn't clamp down on it; it felt… appropriate. Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly as she pulled three more balls from the box, trying it again. This time she managed to catch the balls again, but forgot to continue the manoeuvre.
After a few more attempts she was quite casually juggling all three balls in exactly the manner Anko had shown. A very different feeling resulted from that, a buoyant, bubbly sort of thing.
"That one's called pride," Anko noted with a small smile. Sukoru hadn't even noticed the tiny smile she now wore as she ably threw and caught the balls in their rhythmic pattern.
"Is that the purpose of hobbies? To conflate a simplistic, repetitive task with a system of personal reward?" Her tone might have been edging on curious.
"In part," Anko agreed, pulling another ball out of the box with a grin and throwing at the girl, immediately destroying her rhythm.
"That felt unnecessarily disruptive."
"If that's your way of saying you find me annoying, you are learning," Anko shot back, motioning for the girl to pick up the balls. "Now do it with four."
When Naruto came home a few hours later, not a moment later than he could, he found a curious sight waiting for him. Sukoru was stood in the middle of the living room, couches and table pushed towards the walls, surrounded by the rubber balls he used to train the Rasengan. Her face was set into a mask of concentration as she carefully balanced the juggling of five balls at once. Her eyes tracked rapidly in time with her hands until she threw one a little too high and upset the balance. She caught four of them but the fitch bounced off it brothers and went careening off to the other side of the room.
For a brief moment Sukoru's eyes narrowed in the closest approximation of irritation he had seen from her, before she picked up another ball and returned to her task. She didn't even acknowledge his entrance with a clipped "Hokage-sama" as she normally did."
"What's going on?" He asked, unsure whether to be happy or bemused at the apparent show of normality.
"I have… a hobby," Sukoru stated in her factual tone, careful to keep her attention on the balls. "It serves… no purpose."
"I can see that," he mused. "You're very good."
Sukoru chose that moment to lose control again, this time not with irritation, but apparent surprise. He could only assume as much from the ever so slight widening of her eyes and separation of her lips before she re-schooled her features.
"I'll uh, let you keep at it then," he muttered, moving past her towards the kitchen, where Anko stood in the doorway wearing a wry smile. Her good mood could be equally attributed to the bowl of raw cookie dough she was eating. "Your doing, I take it?"
"Pfft, those boffins at T&I may be good at messing with people's heads, but I think they're missing a trick with her. They're trying to rehabilitate something she never had in the first place; she just needs time to discover all of the things she might have had." She looked up and planted a quick, sugary kiss on his lips. "Who understands being childish better than me?"
"Can't argue with that," Naruto replied, turning to look back at his sister with a fond smile. He jerked in place a moment later, suddenly rushing towards the stairs.
"Where are you going?" Anko called after him.
"Are you kidding? I'm getting the camera!"
Sukoru tried to maintain a light, airy smile as she walked through the village. It didn't match her inward feelings in the slightest, but she had been recommended by her therapist – not that she openly used the term – to try emoting a bit more. In her experience though, people seemed to dislike it when she walked around scowling from her irritation. It really was rather backwards in her opinion; they wanted her to show her emotions, which was the reverse of everything she had been taught growing up, but people clearly didn't like seeing the negative ones.
So, a slightly forced smile it was.
She was somewhat proud of it. At least, she thought she was. Nailing down the specifics of her feelings when they came at her erratically was still difficult. But she had practised this smile in the mirror over the past few weeks and she figured she had it down pat. People certainly seemed more accepting of her occasional slips when she smiled at them. Although occasionally it landed her in situations such as this one.
Social events still perplexed her, even after three months in her brother's – still a concept she was coming to terms with – care. So, when a few girls her age, apparently all of them familiar with Naruto in some way or another, asked her to come out with them, she wasn't sure what to expect. Shopping for clothes, and all of the banal frivolity that came with it, was not on her list. Oh, she knew it was an expected activity for teenagers, Anko had been providing her with all sorts of books that covered it in detail, she just never expected to engage with it herself.
She had a perfectly functional set of clothes, and her brother had provided more whenever she asked. Going out and getting them herself, while also having to pander to the excessively obnoxious whims of the other girls, just seemed pointless. Or perhaps she was just annoyed because they had interrupted her drawing.
When he calmed down from his excitement over her juggling, Naruto was beyond enthused to introduce her to a whole swathe of potential hobbies. Few captured her in the way the juggling had – she was now up to nine balls, and nearly that many in kunai – but she found something interesting about sketching. The complex relationship between capturing an object with her eye, and transferring it to the page just… appealed to her, somehow.
She now had almost an entire sketchbook that seemed to show a sort of condensed timelapse of a normal artist's career. She already had the excellent hand-eye coordination, so it was more about the various techniques that best translated what she saw, into what she drew. She especially liked birds, they had just an interesting shape and their feathers presented the latest challenge in layering her shading so that-
"You're doing it again Sukoru," a voice to her right suddenly cut into her thoughts. "If you keep spacing out like that, you'll walk into a wall."
The blonde didn't bother turning to face the purple haired girl, easily the most annoying of the trio in her opinion if for no other reason than she talked the most. "It's unlikely that I will walk into a wall. It's common Root procedure to learn to navigate changing environs with a blindfold. If anything, the manner in which you turn to talk to me will see you falling prey to such an incident."
"Wow, if you didn't say it in such deadpan, I'd almost take that as a comeback," Ami said, taking the apparent jibe in good humour.
"She's right you know," Ino spoke up, wearing a smirk as easily as some might a scarf, "I'm surprised you haven't tripped over your own feet or that ridiculous sword already."
"It's not ridiculous, it's my sister's," she answered defensively, "I just haven't quite grown into it yet is all," although she was noticeably more conscious of her own feet as the quartet manoeuvred through the bustling crowd.
"You never did say why you switched," Sakura added. "I thought your old sword was fine."
"It was more of a practise sword, too light for the style I use now. Better to adapt to a heavy sword you can grow into, than using a succession of swords that quickly become too light."
"That is indeed how operatives are encouraged to train in Root," Sukoru agreed. She found that if she occasionally added to the conversation, no matter how banal or redundant, people harassed her less to engage more deeply.
"See, she gets it."
"Well sorry if Sakura and I aren't clued into the mysterious world of Kenjutsu; we have more interesting pursuits than swinging a metal bar around."
"We'll see how interesting my metal bar is when it's embedded between those precious lumps of yours."
As Ino instinctively brought her arms up to her chest, scandalised, Sukoru watched the interaction with mild interest. She had come to the understanding that these three were 'friends' in the operative sense; a concept that had been translated to her in the terms of "teammates you have outside of missions." However, between their instigating remarks, vocal distain of one another and general lack of cohesion that would be fatal on a mission, she could see no truth to this.
Their obsession with their appearances was also absurd. They each had the lean, lightly muscled figures borne of their profession, modified only by genetic factors such as height and metabolism. In absence of strong differences in that regard it seemed breast size was their preferred method of differentiation. Sukoru herself had taken to the practise of binding her chest when they had grown large enough to start impeding her manoeuvrability even slightly. On the other hand, she understood the technical advantages to the kind of figure Ino had, that was more reliably "attractive" in a seduction role.
It all seemed so pointless.
"So Sukoru, have you spotted anything you like yet?" Ino asked suddenly enough, that Ami very nearly did trip over her feet at the sudden turn.
"I still don't quite understand which aspects of the clothing aesthetics I am supposed to prefer. The colour seems arbitrary, and when I try to argue for utility I am told those choices are "drab" for whatever reason." She mimed the quotation marks as she had seen some people do to emphasise points. She was still working on the subtler intonations that were slowly being drilled into her.
Ino clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes lazily. "It's not about which clothes you're supposed to prefer, you just choose whichever you like, or would look cute."
"That term seems entirely subjective from the many sources I've gathered."
"Tell me about it," Sakura chimed in with a purposefully inciteful smirk. "Have you seen Ino's choice in clothes?"
"As if you could talk forehead; you wear that white circle so much I swear you're trying to create some kind of Haruno crest," the blonde shot back acerbically, suddenly rounding on Ami. "And what's wrong with what I wear?"
"Hey," the violette squeaked, "don't look at me, I can't exactly comment on the skimpy fishnets aesthetic."
Ino simply rounded on her friend victoriously. "See? You're outnumbered here Sakura."
"Oh please, all of Ami's fashion choices were dictated by Sensei's fiancée, that doesn't count. And if you really want to lump yourself in with her, be my guest."
"Don't insult Anko-shishou! How would you like it if I made fun of the pair of tits that calls itself your boss?"
"I'd damn well like to see you try, I'm curious what colour you'd make as a smear on the wall."
The bickering girls pulled ahead slightly as Ino watched her careful handiwork in action like a proud, manipulative mother.
"Why do you play them against one another like that?" Sukoru asked, not accusingly, just curious.
"Because it's funny," Ino replied easily, flicking her hair back over her shoulder with a little playful smile. Of the many people Sukoru had been forced to become acquainted with since the dissolution of Root, Ino was one of the hardest to understand. She controlled her features as well as any Root agent, but used it to display emotion, rather than supress it. It made for a fascinating case study for how people expected her to act.
"I thought you were supposed to be friends."
The platinum blonde just gave her a bemused little smile. "What are you talking about; we are friends. Sakura is my best friend and Ami is always fun to hang out with."
"Then why purposefully use their insecurities to cause undue friction within the social circle?"
Ino didn't seem phased by the frank question. "Why do friendly shinobi spar with one another? Practice. Friends banter like this because it forces our minds to be quick and it creates a non-hostile environment of competition." When Ino talked like this she sounded a great deal like Sukoru's various Yamanaka counsellors, and she suspected this was purely for her benefit. "You told me about your hobbies remember? It's kind of the same, we can derive harmless satisfaction from 'winning' at this verbal sparring, with the shared understanding that we don't particularly mean what we say. Although splicing in an element of truth always adds to the fun." She gave the shorter blonde a sly wink. "But that's reserved for the advanced players."
Sukoru figured that as long as Ino was behaving like a therapist, she could treat her like one. "I still don't understand the purpose of these social outings though, if the only purpose is competitive satisfaction, wouldn't your times be better served engaging and practising a hobby to the same end?"
Ino nodded patiently. "It's not just about that, people naturally fall into friendships out of a shared desire for companionship. Engaging with trusted individuals is extremely important for the psyche as it provides outlets for anxieties against a reliably frank and honest source. It depends on the kind of person you are, but that's somewhat of a heated topic of debate in my family; my dad has a lot of theories about categorising personality types."
"But then, how can you be certain a person can be trusted?" That was something Sukoru had never been prepared for, the very basis of her training was the core idea that nobody could be trusted, not even other Root agents. That mutual understanding kept them all in check and as mission-efficient as possible.
"In short, you really can't. But basic social reciprocity creates a sort of safety net. The more good you do for somebody else, so, the kinder you are to people, the more likely it is they will return the favour, on the then assumed basis that you will, in turn, return the favour and continue the cycle. It's one great big, enormously complex goodwill system. A kind of selfish selflessness, in the more cynical manner of looking at things. I'm a bit of realist myself, but I like to think there's some inherent good in most people… even if certain slackers strain my personal goodwill."
"Sounds… difficult."
At that at least, Ino allowed the girl a more sympathetic look. "Most people don't exactly have your handicap, they learn it instinctively via their upbringing. But that doesn't mean it's impossible to teach, an important anchor for you is your brother. Hell, I don't know the Hokage very well, but I know for a fact that he loves you. Let him, and I think you'll begin to understand what I'm talking about."
Sukoru looked down thoughtfully at that. "Thank you for being frank with me, others are rarely so candid."
Again, Ino gave a careless shrug. "It comes with being from a family of mind-readers, you pick up the specific methods you need to get through to different people." Her expression expertly transitioned into a sly grin. "Consider it a warning, I won't be pulling my punches anymore, so I advise you to learn fast if you want to keep up."
Sukoru just nodded, feeling that competitiveness she had first learned with those juggling balls. "I think I understand." She looked forward and called out to the bickering girls ahead of them. "Ami, your hair is inappropriately long and will inevitably act as a liability in a fight. It is also a silly colour."
All three of the other girls paused in total silence, each of them turning to stare at Sukoru. She just about managed not to balk under the sudden scrutiny until Ino chimed in, "You heard the girl, that mop's going to be some guy's handhold one day."
Faced with the more familiar aggressor Ami reverted to a scowl. "Yeah, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you Ino?"
"Well, if you can't handle my hairstyle maybe you should copy your mentor more than you already do and go for the full pineapple."
"I bet Shikamaru would be happy to induct you into the club," Sakura couldn't resist adding, earning a laugh from all three girls and a perplexed look from Sukoru as the conversation turned to considerably lighter and less inflammatory topics.
Ino gave her a little nudge from the side and a conspiratorial smile. "You'll get the hang of it eventually."
It would only be later, when she was thinking back on the events, that Sukoru would realise she hadn't had to force herself to smile.
Naruto scrutinised the papers in front of him with the meticulous eye he usually reserved for experimental seal designs, the kind he couldn't afford to make a mistake with. Whoever was writing up Mei's trade agreements was a tricky bastard with their wording. Already he had found three potential loopholes to various clauses that he would have to amend to make sure Kiri didn't accidentally gain exclusive rights to the waters around Wave country. He would be handing over his notes to Hiruzen later all the same, the man could spot legal meandering a mile away, but he still wanted to try this himself first.
He couldn't lean on the Sandaime forever. The man was already winding down his role in the running of things, enjoying longer, more relaxing days with his family that he so desperately deserved. The man had even taken up painting, although Naruto was loathe to admit that he wasn't terribly good at it. Who was he to fault a man the small comforts in his twilight years? Mostly he was just happy to see the man playing with his grandson, before Konohamaru became a Genin and went through the inevitable stage of being 'too mature' for his Jiji.
He glanced up briefly when he heard Sukoru come back from her outing with the girls. He couldn't thank them enough for being so patient with his sister; just another way he could always count on his cute little students. He returned to his work, cursing under his breath when he realised he had lost his place. He had only found the right line again when Sukoru sat down next to him on the couch, stealing his concentration again.
Sukoru never sat next to anyone, always preferring her own solace when she could.
"Hey, you okay?"
She nodded slowly, and he was a little surprised to see her fidgeting slightly; she usually had more control than that. Before he could wonder what had her so rattled she leant forward rather suddenly and awkwardly put her arms on either side of him. He froze, his next words catching in his throat as, slowly, almost robotically, she gave him a hug. He was too astonished to even return it, just sitting there, wide-eyed.
"I am… unsure how long a hug is supposed to last," a slightly muffled voice emerged from his chest, shocking him out of his stupor.
Immediately he leaned back against her, shakily, as if the wrong move could scare her away, and returned the gesture.
"I'll… I'll let you know."