WAP 16

Tanjiro's mother, Furi-san, had returned from her family visit with three wide-eyed nieces in tow. Aiko accepted them into her shrine with only a squirm of nerves in her stomach.

She was officially a guardian and mentor to real human children. Horrific.

The first thing she was going to do was clean them and have them put in fresh clothing, because they were travel worn and probably sticky in general.

If she had to guess, the youngest was around 7, and the oldest was 12. That was about the age range that girls usually became miko, wasn't it…

"Fumiko-san, would you help them wash and dress?" Aiko tried to look benevolent and calm. The oldest girl was holding her little sister's hand with shaking fingers. "This week, they should spend meeting the villagers. They'll sleep here, with me." She indicated the shrine. "Girls, I'll get hot water. Call me Aiko."

"Aiko-sama," Fumiko corrected blithely. She tapped the middle girl on her shoulder.

The child jumped. "Hanako," she said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. "This is Momoko." She indicated her younger sister. "And…"

"My name is Aiko," said the oldest girl. She ducked her chin in, as if she thought she might be in trouble for having the same name.

'Love child, flower child, peach child. I wonder what their other two sisters are called. Their parents have a theme.'

"I'll be able to remember that," Aiko said, as bland as possible. "Welcome, girls. Follow me."

She took them to the clearing that she used for bathing. The packed stone basin was empty. They watched in an awkward silence while Aiko redirected the running channel of water to begin filling it.

"That'll take at least ten minutes to fill," Aiko said. "Wait here."

She went back into her shrine and dug out some bathing supplies. Washcloths, soap, and shampoo, and then a tiny bottle of camellia hair oil and a comb. The children watched her with visible confusion as she set things out. Then she knelt in front of the basin to check it. The water was ice cold. It wasn't very far up, but it was high enough to be useful. She glanced at the children.

Hopefully, they weren't very twitchy.

Aiko tapped fingers to her lips and formed the tiger seal. She carefully breathed out a gentle stream of fire into the water. It bubbled and danced away from the heat. After a few seconds, she redirected it to glance over the surface of the pool.

She stopped when her air ran out and dipped a finger in to check the temperature. It was a little too hot for comfort, but that would change rapidly as the cool water continued to fill in.

"Use that," Aiko ordered. Fumiko picked up the bucket that she indicated. "When the temperature is warm enough, use the cloth and this soap to wash off." She shook the appropriate bottle. "You can take a bath as well, if you like," she suggested. "This is for cleaning hair." She picked up that bottle and held it up. "Use it twice. The hair oil is last, comb it in and don't rinse it. Get in the hot water after you've scrubbed off."

"Yes, Aiko-sama." Aiko the smaller swallowed. She blinked quickly.

Fumiko gently chucked the girl on the back of the head for speaking out of turn.

"No, no," Aiko said, "feel free to speak. Good. I'll get clothing. Leave your dirty things in a pile."

Fumiko made a face that said she was going to riot if Aiko tried to do laundry, but she bowed and let Aiko leave.

Clothing was… well. Aiko ran a hand through her horrible new bob haircut and thought about what she actually owned. She'd been planning to just share yukata from her closet, but after seeing how small the girls were…

'Time for crime.'

It was with the smallest whisper of remorse that Aiko went back to the grand shrine in the Capital and raided their supplies for children's red and white miko clothing. She took six outfits, and tucked them away in the shrine before she flitted over to the Daimyo's palace.

Aiko avoided being seen as she ducked into the residential area and started rifling around private rooms until she found someone who clearly had a daughter. She helped herself to a few robes, socks, and shoes.

'I'm going to want a relationship with an actual tailor. I want to commission clothing.'

She put that on the to do list and took her ill-gotten gains to the shrine.

By the time she got to the clearing, Fumiko was in the bath water along with the three girls. Hana had joined them at some point and was telling some kind of story that had them all laughing. Aiko paused and hung back, drinking in the raptured expressions as Hana gestured wildly.

"Aiko-samaaaaa."

Hana's face dropped into irritation.

Aiko stifled a laugh. She stepped fully into the clearing and raised the hand that wasn't holding shrine maiden clothing. "I'll be a moment, Izuna-san," she called back. "Please wait."

Hana harrumphed.

"Here's your clothing," Aiko said. She put the fabric down on the same rock that had the discarded shampoo and soap.

"Thank you," Fumiko interjected. Water sloshed as she leaned her chin onto her palm. "I'll take their laundry."

Aiko didn't actually want to do laundry, so she let Fumiko win that silent power play and went off to see what Izuna needed. He was leaning against the shrine, idly tossing a shuriken. He looked up as she approached. The shuriken disappeared into his sleeve with a glint of sunlight on metal.

"Priestess," he greeted. His eyes creased in a smile. "500 talismans, as requested."

Aiko blinked.

What, already?

"Sorry that it took so long," he said, stretching like a languid cat. His eyes were far too soulful. He was waiting for his compliment.

"Thank you," she said, because she had manners but hated to make a man happy. "May I see?"

He straightened and reached into the pouch at his side with his left hand. He held something out, clenched fingers down.

Aiko automatically put her hand out to receive it. She expected Izuna to drop it into her palm. That would have been normal.

Instead, he lowered his hand to meet hers. His left hand touched hers along with the warm metal of the talisman. She froze. He smoothly brought his right hand up to hold her hand from below as well. Izuna leaned in, eyes intently focused on hers. She was close enough to count his lashes, and to see lightning bolts of gray in what had seemed to be pitch black irises. His pupils contracted. “Here you are,” he said, so quietly that she found herself leaning in as well. It felt intimate.

Her heart thudded in her chest. She curled her hand around the talisman and pulled it back out of his grip. Izuna let her go without any attempt to clutch.

She controlled her breath, because her lungs wanted to pick up speed. She swallowed. With great difficulty, she looked away and broke eye contact. “Thank you.” Her voice came out hoarse.

Izuna smiled in a way that told her he knew the effect he’d had on her. “How is my work?”

Aiko stared at him. It was pretty good, honestly. It-

He meant the talisman. Metal working. He meant that. She finally looked at what he’d put in her hand.

The charm was the standard size, about as third as big as her palm. It was mostly rectangular, with an inward curve at the top that accomodated a decorative emblem around a hole meant for threading with string. It was branded with the kanji for avoidance of evil. She swallowed, rubbing at it with her thumb.

Above the kanji was an engraving of a woman in an elaborate kimono. It might have been meant to represent the goddess Izanami. Aiko stole a glance at Izuna and then back down. The woman had the short eyebrows of a traditional beauty, but it had her nose and it had her mouth.

“It’s art,” Aiko said honestly. She didn’t say that it also seemed like an homage to her.

Izuna gave a little bow. “I am here to be of service,” he purred.

‘He’s dangerous,’ she thought wildly. She took a sharp inhalation. ‘He can’t really be flirting. He’s just… He could be trying to put me off balance. Or he might just not know what to depict without specific inspiration.’

“I need to go now.” Aiko took a step backward and inclined her head. “Thank you. Goodbye.” She turned on her heel and fled inside the shrine, cursing the heat of her face.

“Goodbye.” His voice called after her, satisfied and smooth.

She waited until she was alone to panic, winding her hands through her hair. “What the fuck,” Aiko said to herself. Then, louder, “What the fuck?” She paced back and forth, and then realized she’d forgotten to take her shoes off at the door. She cursed colorfully and kicked them off, flustered beyond all sense.

“What is his problem?” she asked herself. Her heart rate was elevated, but she was turning her mood from stress to anger. “Why’s he acting this way?” She turned at the end of her pacing pattern, face hot. “Does he think I’m hot?” Aiko paused, both in speaking and walking. “Probably,” she acknowledged, and started walking again. “I’m very attractive. But that doesn’t mean he’s actually that attracted to me. He’s known me for a day, and it’s not like I was nice to him. He can’t be into that.” She tugged anxiously on her hair, and then scowled at the reminder of the neck length haircut Kakuzu had given her. “Should I try Jiraiya’s hair growth jutsu?” Aiko frowned, remembering how he did it. “His hair always looked a total mess when he did that… But his hair is a nightmare in general,” she said fairly. Hmm. Aiko sat down on the floor cross legged.

Even in the moment, she knew that she was just distracting herself from the panic of her sudden attraction to a shinobi she didn’t really know or trust. But distractions worked for a reason.

So, Aiko tried out Jiraiya’s jutsu. It couldn’t get worse, right? The worst possible outcome was that it was so bad she cut her hair again. Maybe shaved it all off.

Hm. That thought was frightening enough that it nearly stopped her mid hand sign. But she had momentum and the sheer willpower of any Uzumaki dumbass, so Aiko finished it and pulsed chakra to feed the technique. It wasn’t hard at all because it was just replicating a natural process. The follicles on her scalp were happy to accept that direction.

So were the ones on her arms and legs, which felt extremely weird. Aiko shrieked in surprise and grabbed at her forearm. Just as fast she lurched to the side because she’d tangled her hand in her newly long hair. “Ouch,” she said, more stunned than pained. That was a lot more upsetting than she’d realized. Jiraiya did that in combat?

Reluctantly, she felt appreciation for his skills. He really was a phenomenal shinobi.

Luckily, most body hair didn’t grow at the same rate as hair on her head. She pushed her sleeve up with a wince to see what she was dealing with. Okay. Yes. It was a good 10 centimeters long. That was an abnormal length for sure. So what? She could trim it.

She was a bit more cautious as she looked down and used her hands to feel her hair. It hadn’t come in evenly– maybe that was something she’d need experience for.

Aiko had to stand to gauge it. The longest part was coming down from the lower half of her scalp, oddly concentrated on her left side. It reached the floor and pooled. The shortest bit were on her right side and the top, where…

‘Where that acid hit me,’ she realized. Aiko winced at the memory. ‘I guess my scalp isn’t uniformly healthy.’

What a weird thing to know about yourself. It wasn’t important, but it was body data that she now had, absolute proof that she retained some kind of imperfection from months and months ago.

It would have been a good time to have a proper kunai with her. Every half decent kunoichi could do a basic haircut with a kunai. Aiko made do with a knife, a little embarrassed even with no witness. And of course she didn’t have a proper broom to deal with the mess that she’d made on her tatami. She swept it up with her hands, gathering up the cut hair and balling it up near the fireplace. It was going to stink to high heaven. Her nose already stung at the thought, but she was too paranoid to risk anyone getting a sample of her genetic material.

Well. She could always manufacture more eccentricities. “I’ll tell them it’s a ritual,” Aiko mumbled to herself as she started a fire. “What are they gonna do, call me out for lying?” She fed the cut hair into the fire as soon as it was big enough, wrinkling her nose at the wretched stink.

Knock knock.

Aiko’s eyes flicked to the door. She didn’t move. “What is it?” She called.

“I’ve brought the disciples,” Fumiko called.

Hmm. Aiko looked at her fire and the hair she was still disposing of. …They were already going to know something had happened, she reasoned. She’d left them with shoulder length hair twenty minutes ago. Now it was to her knees. They would probably notice. So she shrugged and called for them to enter.

She didn’t turn. She didn’t have to. She heard them enter, and someone start to choke on the smoke. “You can open a window,” she said absently. Light footsteps moved behind her as someone, probably Fumiko, did just that. “How do you feel?”

There was a confused silence. “Hanako,” Aiko picked a child at random.

“Very well, priestess,” she said hastily.

Aiko hummed, unconvinced. “You’re probably not happy,” she said. She did them the respect of turning to look at them. They had noticed her hair, judging from the way three sets of eyes darted guiltily up from the loose hair pooling behind her. Fumiko was opening a door to peer at the bedding they had. “That’s fine, you know. You don’t have to pretend that you’re immediately comfortable.” She propped her chin on a hand and surveyed them. “You’ll get used to it, but today is your first day in a strange place.”

The little Aiko cracked a weak smile, as did Hanako. Tiny Momoko merely looked at her with big dark baby eyes, serious in her 7 year old face. They all looked… Well, they were very cute in the red and white miko outfits. It was a uniform for adults, but it made them look even smaller.

“Can I fix your hair?” Hanako clapped a hand over her mouth, but the words were already out.

Aiko gestured for her to come closer. “You’re welcome to it.”

“Me too!” Momoko peeped up. Aiko the smaller clenched her hands into a a fist, but didn’t say anything.

“Of course, show me what you can do.” Aiko scooted a little further away from the fire to reduce the risk that she’d have to regrow her hair again.

She spent the rest of the evening with them. The girls gradually relaxed. Fumiko excused herself and went to her family. The only interruption was when the village head came and asked for her permission to give a talisman to every family in the village. Aiko agreed, and the rest were stored.

Aiko went to bed with the soft sounds of children sleeping nearby. She laid awake a while, thinking about the future.

Representatives of the court would be coming soon. And Izuna- if he didn’t leave, then his brother was going to send someone to retrieve him. And that person might not be happy that Izuna had involved himelf in deposing of the Daimyo.

She wondered how that was going to do.

‘He’ll probably just leave soon,’ Aiko told herself. She rubbed at the base of her head, working on tension. She was always tense these days. ‘It doesn’t… the way he’s been acting doesn’t mean anything. I agreed to provide rice, that’s all that he came for. He’s probably just trying to stay on my good side to ensure that they get a good deal.’

It was eminently stupid, because she wasn’t planning to stay in this time. She was going to go home. But deep down, she wished that he actually was interested in her. It was… Well, she was lonely. She was devastatingly lonely. No one here really knew her, and she was making sure they never would. She was just showing them what they needed to see.

She didn’t know when she fell asleep. It must not have taken too long, because she woke up easily the next day, ready for the messenger who arrived asking to be received at the shrine.