[Miyamoto Ikana]

Ikana didn't actually know her birthday. She was left at the doorstep of an orphanage as far as she was concerned in the aftermath face of civil war and the Sanbi rampage. Though on her file, it would for posterity sake be dubbed January 7th. She was told when she first arrived at the orphanage, she was one of many, a cold snowy day. When they first saw her, they thought perhaps she'd frozen to death for she didn't cry in the cold. Today, in Sora's home, Ikana found herself tending to the chores. Keeping herself busy and diligent as she usually did, often using clones to take care of the menial chores and otherwise simple chores.

Ikana often was up in the morning, in the early morning. Though, considering the dark rings under Ikana's eyes, one might question if the better question was if the girl was getting much sleep at all. Inbetween research, personal training, and running her store? She was very much a recluse that ceased interacting with others, perhaps other than occasionally training some of her pupils. Though that was a matter of money. By saving on labor costs, and supplying her own means and products, the young lady was a thriving entrepreneur. Sora would find on this morning, there was something quite alluring. A scent wafting in the air.

The previous night, Ikana had taken some pork and let it sit and marinate in soysauce that had been mixed with sugar. She was cooking that on the stovetop today with caramelized onions, ginger, garlic, and a bit of pepper. Mixing the ingedients together in the wok, she'd made a fresh pot of rice, and had began making steamed egg stew with sesame oil, a bit of shrimp, and green onions. With some pickled radish, cabbage, and cucumbers, it'd make a full meal. A small pot of miso soup lingered, made from fish stock. The stock in question made from a fish head she'd gotten for cheap from the market. Ikana had become an accomplished little cook, amongst other things. Taking off her apron, she set the table. 

"Food's ready." She called out. Seating herself, she clapped her hands together. "Itadakimasu." They call out to nobody in question, as their meal is accented by barley tea of which was room temperature. 
 

[Sora Minami]

It was rare for Sora to take a day off. To be sure, there were days where she didn’t train, but they were few and far between, and they were always accentuated by some sort of physical exercise, be it basic Ittoryu katas or just foundational calisthenics; in truth, the pink-haired Jounin hadn’t taken a full, proper day for herself in more than a decade, well before she had joined on to be an Instructor at the Academy. So, when she had woken up that morning, she’d had no intention of breaking that streak… Until she looked at the calendar she kept pinned to her bathroom door.

January 7th. The woman thought as she brushed her teeth, grimacing a little at her own forgetfulness. She hadn’t spent nearly as much time browsing through the rest of her team’s files as she had Ikana’s -in part because there was just… so much to go through- but she could remember their birthdays easily enough. Sure, the girl hadn’t made mention of it, but that was no excuse. She should have remembered.Spitting the slurry of toothpaste and saliva into the sink, Sora let the mixture settle before turning on the water and rinsing it down the drain, her sky-blue gaze unfocused as she went through the motions of getting dressed.

She picked out something bright, a deep blue qipao with a single, high slit on the right side that made her look far more curvaceous than she really was, plus a set of thigh-high stockings and, of course, Samidare. It wasn’t until the blade was sitting comfortably in its usual place on her left hip that she came to a decision about what to do- but once it was, she knew. Walking out of her room and down the hall towards the kitchen, the pink-haired woman arrived just in time for Ikana to make her announcement, the smell of miso soup and pork, mixed with a variety of vegetables wafting through her nostrils.

"Smells good." She said as she walked over to the food and made herself a bowl of the soup with a side of rice and stew, being a bit less generous than she would have been had it been her own stuff. Food in hand, the Jounin moved to the table where Ikana was and sat down, her expression soft and ever so slightly pensive, the soup and stew still steaming as she mulled over what to say before finally speaking.

"So. What do you want to do for your birthday?"

Miyamoto Ikana

[Miyamoto Ikana]

When she sat down, there was a level of confusion for a moment when she was asked. What did she want to do for her birthday? Looking down, her brow furrowed as she blew on her eggs once, twice, and then a third time before putting the spoonful into her mouth. "I don't know." She said it honestly and truthfully. January 7th was a day just like any other for herself in truth. "There's always money to be made though, so I'd figure I'd open the shop. Maybe get some sake. And some premium meat from the market." Though in truth, up until her later years, she'd never really splurged on herself.

Never before was she really wealthy enough to consider herself "middle class". But as a Chunin, with her side business? She was making fantastic money. When you saved on labor costs by having only yourself as an employee, you produced most of your own wares, and the wares in question were designed to be expendable? She had a renewable business. Ikana was one of those kids that really didn't seem to have that many hobbies, and really didn't know what to do with herself beyond work. So much so that work and training kind of was her hobby. Where she'd enter what was referred to as the "quiet box". Didn't have to think.

Though she did occasionally hunt, or forage, or fish.

"What did you do for your birthday? I never really did much. I was so spanking poor..." She seemed to reminisce as if she was an old woman thinking back to her youth. Except. Ikana was pretty damn far from poor now.

[Sora Minami]

"Drank." Sora replied, her response so nonchalant and off-the-cuff that it almost seemed natural. As if getting blackout drunk and stumbling home, only to pass out and discover you’d trashed three Chuunin in a fight with a table leg was somehow what normal people did on their birthday. But even if it was (and it wasn’t), Ikana was still too young to go drinking- another few years would have to pass before she could start wasting her money on that particular vice, if she did it at all. Although… The Jounin blinked, taking a bite of her stew as she mulled over a memory in her head. It had been a long time since she had thought about what her old Sensei had done for her during those early years, before the war. Before everyone had died.

"I’ve an idea, if you want to try it out." She said after a long moment, her voice soft and gentle, as if she were handling something particularly fragile and prone to cracking. Which, if she were being honest, Ikana was. "There’s this… place, my Sensei took me too when I was young. It isn’t far, but it’s quiet. A good spot to train, if you want to be alone." She looked up at Ikana then, her sky-blue gaze lingering on the small girl’s face, not quite pleading but still imploring, searching for some kind of reaction- anything to see that that there might be some speck or shred of the bright little girl she had once known, however briefly.

"I’ll take you there, if you want."

Miyamoto Ikana

[Miyamoto Ikana]

It seemed almost hypocritical that Sora would chastise Ikana's potential drinking when she herself did in her younger days. Though, Ikana didn't drink for pleasure. No, frankly, Ikana hardly did anything for pleasure, for her vibrancy and joy in life was just about dead. She did what she did in a monotonous cycle of life, and frankly, if someone asked Ikana what would make her happy? She'd honestly tell them that she didn't know. Because she'd come to realize she hadn't been happy in many years. The difference being that she'd come to understand that she didn't need to be. Not every little girl was meant to have a happy ending. Though. As Sora spoke? Ikana did listen.

The place seemed important to Sora. Taking the liberty to close her eyes and tilt her head in a smile, she spoke in a very jovial tone. "I'd love to go." She says, sincere in her tone. Though, she wasn't sure how well she could train in such a place. Lately, the jutsu she'd been working with had been so destructive and powerful, it could reduce the general landscape in ruin and disrepair. Hence why she'd been trying to go along more hidden areas along crags and rocks, caverns, or otherwise shooting off her techniques towards the sea as opposed to anywhere people would spectate.

For the longest time, she'd hidden her wind release nature, and how freakishly powerful she'd come to be in casting that kind of jutsu. Ikana had become complacent with being a nobody. She'd abandoned most senses of ideology and had lived day to day for money, as well as to busy her mind with labor. As to ward off the otherwise crippling depression that would swallow her otherwise. Ikana began to become desensitized, and in a way, she was starting to lose her fear of death. "Maybe this time, I'll be able to show you how strong I've really gotten. Minami-Sensei."

[Sora Minami]

Sora blinked, her lips parting in a soft almost-smile as she looked up, surprised that Ikana had agreed so readily… and felt the blooming hope in her chest wither, her smile fading to a look of quiet sadness as she saw the expression on her sister’s face. It held all the right markers of happiness, all the right twists and turns of the face, even her tone was on point- but it wasn’t real. She knew the girl too well now, could read her expression like an open book, could almost feel the despair wafting off of her soul, the black pit of depression and angst that had consumed her own heart for so, so long. It was almost enough to make her want to give up, that darkness.

Almost.

"You don’t have to prove anything to me, Ikana." She said, her voice soft and gentle as she reached out and picked up her water, sipping the liquid in order to give her hands something to do, if only so her mind could work without the rest of her body interrupting it. "I know you’re strong. I knew it the moment I met you." She would have to be, to be capable of living through what Minako had put her through.

She smiled then, a soft thing, gentle and comforting, her voice shifting to match as she set her cup down, looking at Ikana’s face, hoping the girl would open her eyes. "We can go after breakfast."

Miyamoto Ikana

[Miyamoto Ikana]

She found herself thinking on it. What her life had been, and what it's lead up to. She could see that pang of hurt, and with it, Sora probably was the person in Kirigakure that she'd been most open to, but also the most wary of for that exact reason. People tended to hurt her when they knew her, and to an extent, Sora had to a lesser extent. Though. It was clear that her sensei wanted her to be happy. Happy as she could be considering the circumstances. Though that was a difficult thing to quantify, especially seeing she'd had little of it to recall. And the things Ikana really wanted seemed so far off and impossible, that she'd long lost hope.Ikana wasn't a kid anymore.

Sora wanted to see Ikana's eyes, and with it, she never did open them. Because if she saw Sora's face, she might break. "I'm glad you don't expect too much from me." She gave a soft laugh even, though much like how Sora imagined. It wasn't genuine. The last time Ikana laughed, really laughed, truly laughed, was when the hook supporting her neck broke. Because she realizes how damn stupid it was. Taking the liberty to eat her food. It wasn't long before she deposits her dishes in the sink.

"Let's go." She proclaims, and with it, as the door opens, Ikana slowly wraps a scarf around her neck and then offers her hand for Sora to take. A bright smile on her face as the morning light bathes over her. Though if she took it and they went out together? Anyone could see Ikana's eyes weren't as vibrant as you'd imagine them from a girl her age. Any person really. Even this much was for show. Because if she let herself fall back into a truly neutral expression, they might see her eyes turned to glass.

[Sora Minami]

Sora didn’t argue with Ikana when the girl spoke; there were no words for her to say, nothing to do but finish her breakfast and get ready to head out for the day. Part of her –the angry, broken part– wanted to rail against what the village had done to Ikana, how they had systematically abused and ignored her until there was nothing left but a sad, empty husk. But there was another part of her that knew, perhaps more than anyone, what being in that dark place was like. What it meant to have someone, no matter how tenuous that relationship was, that you knew would be there when, in the end, you simply couldn’t keep the mask up any more.

So she kept quiet, eating her soup and stew in peace, gaze shadowed by the thoughts that lingered in the back of her mind. Her silence was almost palpable while Ikana got ready, but when the brunette spoke she didn’t hesitate to reply, her voice soft and somber as she took her sister’s offered hand and led her out of the house. "Yeah, let’s go."
____________
It took them three hours to reach the grove.

The route to get there was a simple one, if long; following the main road out of Kirigakure, Sora led Ikana south and east, skirting the edge of the mountains before diverting into the forest, where they took to the trees, leaping from branch to branch in relative silence before, without warning, she came to a stop and held up her hand, motioning for Ikana to follow suit. After a moment, the Jounin leapt down from the trees and pointed towards a clump of brambles clustered around a wide thicket, walking through them with care, if only so her dress didn’t get caught on the thorns. It wasn’t until the both of them were inside that she spoke again, her voice soft but bright, as if recalling something fond.

"Nice, isn’t it?" She said, glancing towards her sister as she looked out at the grove; at about fifty meters wide and thirty long, the place was larger than most training grounds in Kirigakure, with the north side being made up of the steep face of the mountain, which held many large gouges and scorch marks in it, though none of them were fresh. A stream, not quite wide enough to be a river, ran along that edge as well, and the inner trees looked old and weathered, as if they were used to being battered by strong winds and debris.

"I used to come here to practice my… bigger jutsu when I was younger. We’re far enough from the village that even my biggest attacks wouldn’t so much make a tremor there." Sora said, her sky-blue gaze lingering on Ikana’s face as she spoke, weighing if she ought to mention what she knew or not. Eventually, one side won out, her desire to help and heal outweighing the more pragmatic, cynical voice that told her saying such things was a risk no one could afford to take.

"I made sure we weren’t followed, by the way."

Miyamoto Ikana

[Miyamoto Ikana]

As they made their way, it was a long way. She found herself largely quiet as they made their way, out towards the main road, and then head south and east. Ah. How it felt again to be out in the isolation. Through the brambles, and the clusters, and the sharpness of the terrain. It was a rough and somewhat inhospitable place. Before they came towards this grove. A quiet little place of serenity, undisturbed by the presence of people. Ikana had looked out, brushing a few leaves off her clothes as she looked into the distance. There was a moment, she looks out to see any potential lingering scars of the years passed, the signs of man.

"Sora-Sensei." She says, turning to face her in truth. "There's something that I want you to know." before taking the liberty to take the sword off from her belt, rest it along the side. As Ikana straightened her appearance, and felt an odd sense of peace and serenity. Half of what she wanted to say, she was sure Sora knew already. She wasn't a stupid woman, and knew there was an aptitude for combat. For battle within Ikana that she likely just never showed or perhaps didn't feel the need to. Seating herself atop a sizeable boulder, they speak earnestly.

"I've been hiding a lot from you I feel like. Maybe more than I should have. My feelings...Because I realized for a long while. I didn't trust you. I didn't trust your intentions. Or trust you had genuine care for me. Because my life had been filled with people that used me. But the thing that hurt wasn't the fact I was used. But instead when I got thrown away. Because I wasn't valuable. Or maybe others wanted what little I had left. So I hid what I could do. My skills. My true capability. It's contradicting. I know."

"There's nothing I can do. And I can't do anything." Taking the liberty to pat her knees, she decides to say something. Something in such a manner, where she knows Sora can't ignore it. "Despite the growing prosperity of this village. Despite everything. I don't feel a thing. A single shred of familiarity, or pride, or anything. It doesn't feel like home, so...I guess what I'm saying is." Thinking it out for a moment or two more? She nods her head. "I don't have anything else to live for."

"I think Ikana died a long time ago. I'm what remains." She says, slowly slipping off her sandals, and resting them neatly to the side. "And I realize. I'm not scared anymore." She says, and for the first time in a long while? Sora might have seen Ikana with actual peace on her face. "Realizing that, and saying it? I feel peace."

[Sora Minami]

Sora watched Ikana, her sky-blue gaze soft and filled with worry as the girl sat atop a large boulder, speaking slowly but with growing earnestness and, for once, honesty. She said things the Jounin had known for a long time, things that she had only guessed at- and one thing that, had they not been alone, would have led to her death. However, they were alone, and the look she gave her sister as she unspooled her feelings was not one of fear or malice, but sad, almost weary understanding. Because she knew what it meant to be disillusioned with a village that cared only for the things you could do, and not the person you were. She knew it well.

"I understand, Ikana." She said after a long moment, her voice soft and vulnerable as she, too, unspooled a bit of the things she had kept under wraps, the feelings she had buried long ago, and was still dealing with, even to this day. "During the war, I went numb. I couldn’t tell you when it happened; I just know one day I woke up and the only thing I felt was… static. As if the world around me wasn’t even really there." It had allowed her to keep going, kept her alive when the pain and anguish and disgust threatened to overwhelm her- but it had also broken her. Cracked things that should never have been cracked.

"I-I did things. Awful things. Unforgivable things, in the name of this village." Children’s screams, parents sobs. The cries of a hundred souls wiped out in a night, all to create an opening in a battlefield she would never see. "Eventually I quit. Retired from being a Hunter-Nin. Became an Instructor. I thought… I thought I could make a difference. Fix things, on the ground level. Raise a better generation of Shinobi."

But that had been a pipe dream. A child’s fantasy, the hope of a woman who hadn’t tried to grow or heal in over twenty years. She knew better, now. Ikana had helped her see that- what they had done to her, what they had taken from her, just to give it to Toru… it had been a wake-up call. Everything that had happened after was just further proof of what she had known all along- Kirigakure was broken. Had been, perhaps from the very beginning. Or at least from the Civil War on. And there was no fixing it, not without a bloody coup at best.

"I know this might come as a surprise but… I know exactly how you feel, Ikana." Sora said, her voice soft and sad, the storm that sat in the center of her chest still, for once. She had people she cared about, friends and a house to call her own- but a home? "I haven’t felt like Kiri was my home in twenty years."

Miyamoto Ikana