Daughter of Wu's note: Thank you for taking the time to read my first fanfiction. Constructive criticism even if it's harsh is appreciated.
This has not been beta-read, therefore there will be grammatical errors. The numbering next to certain words will be defined at the end of the chapter.
I will be doing this to ensure that people can understand the given context and the translation of Japanese names and terminologies.
I'm not fluent in Japanese, therefore there will be mistakes. Correct me if I'm wrong and I'll edit it accordingly.
Naruto Universe, canonoligical and pre-canonoligical lore and characters within that Universe belongs to Kishimoto Masashi. The original characters including female protagonist that I've created, belong to me.
This is an AU Naruto Universe, therefore some characters will have aspects of being out of character. However, I've tried to stick to their fundamental values.
The entire fanfiction will be in 'Third person' narrative.
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"Snitch", Dialogue.
'Snitch', Thoughts.
Snitch, Emphasis.
Thirteen years ago, Hashirama Senju¹ and Madara Uchiha² united their clans, putting an end to the Warring Clan Era. They founded the Hidden Leaf Village, Konohagakure no Sato, in the Land of Fire, setting an example for other nations. This move marked a significant shift towards cooperation among ninja clans, bringing an era of relative peace.
Yet, this peace proved short-lived as conflicts erupted within Konoha. Mito Uzumaki³ became the Nine Tails' Jinchuriki⁴, and the monumental battle between Madara Uchiha and Hashirama Senju ultimately sealed Madara's demise.
In the outskirts of the Hi no Kuni⁵, amidst nature's embrace, a humble cottage perched at the mountaintop, its windows flickering with the unsettling glow of a fireplace bearing witness to a secret not meant to exist.
Within the dimly lit chamber of the cottage, sipping green-tea leasurily, Asobime⁶ – Yuki Hoshino⁷, found herself unprepared for the chaos of motherhood as she cradled her newborn child. The warmth draped around them, concealing a malevolent reality lurking beneath.
Unspoken dread saturated the air, an oppressive fog steeped in the weight of a foreboding question:
"Why won't you die?"
Hoshino sneered, her emerald eyes narrowing in sinister slits, fixed on the cherubic babe attempting to escape her hold.
Bending down to eye level, she scrutinized the infant's features – a petite cluster of midnight raven hair crowning her egg-shaped head, defying gravity unlike Hoshino's sleek, straight light brown locks. In contrast to her light tan complexion and emerald eyes, the baby exhibited luminescent pale skin and deep, almost pitch-black phoenix-shaped eyes – all distinct and different from Hoshino Yuki's traits.
"You look nothing like me. You look more like that...Man." Hoshino spat the word, feeling physically sick. Contemplating, she traced her finger on the baby's face, searching for the perfect word to describe her. An unknown expression crossed Hoshino's face as she pinched the infant's nose tightly, eliciting gurgles of displeasure.
"You are a disgustingly ugly baby. I should've swallowed you, and we wouldn't be in this predicament, you agree, don't you, ugly?" Hoshino released her death grip, leaving red bruising on the baby's petite nose. She took another mouthful of her green-tea, savoring the flavor.
"For some reason, you won't die peacefully. I've failed seven times trying to get rid of you. You'd make a great shinobi, too bad you're female though. Only good for spreading your legs and housework. I would know, I'm speaking from experience, ugly," She thought aloud, aware that others might deem her a lunatic if they witnessed her conversations.
Lost in her thoughts, her grip on the teacup slipped, falling to the ground and shattering into tiny shards accidentally. Cursing her thoughtlessness, she went to grab the broken pieces before a cold glint surfaced, and an idea manifested in Hoshino's mind, causing her lips to curl upward. Her pink-painted fingernail lightly tapped her nose.
With a sweet tone, she remarked, "You've given me so much trouble. You wouldn't die peacefully within my womb, and now you're out, giving me more trouble. You're truly a bad daughter."
Grabbing a sharp broken shard from the ground, she pierced the skin and dug deep into the infant's flesh, ignoring the baby's distress and unbothered by the blood saturating it.
"Now, let me think. How do you feel about the name Shikocha?⁸ No? Doesn't sound right, hmm... What about Akuhara?⁹ Sounds like a fitting name for the likes of you? No? You don't like that. You're quite the fussy baby... Hmmm... Oh! I know the perfect name for you." She started scribing kanji characters on her daughter's forehead before smirking in amusement at the bloody, festering wound.
"Waru¹⁰... A fitting name for you, don't you think, ugly daughter of mine? Till death do you part... Which will be tonight, ha!"
Her bell-like laughter resounded throughout the room before she was interrupted by a fit of coughing. "Hack! You wretched beast, your existence caused me a cough attack," she accused the babe and ruthlessly hit her bottom in retaliation.
Typically, newborn babies cry from the slightest pain, but not this brat. Unfortunately, her daughter did not make a sound when inflicted with pain. High pain tolerance and a knack for escaping death. No matter what method Hoshino used, the baby wouldn't die.
Desperation clawed at her; the Yukaka¹¹ only sanctioned a week of leave for her. No one knew she was pregnant, nor that she gave birth. And she'd keep it that way. No one would ruin the reputation she built over the years, nor will they ruin her goal to become to the greatest Taiyu¹², especially not some days-old brat she gave life too.
In her eyes, Hoshino believed she was doing a favor for little Waru. It hasn't been long since the elemental nations were gripped by clan wars, and amidst the ongoing devastation, she saw her actions as a desperate attempt to shield her daughter from the brutal reality.
She was sold at a young age by her father, Hoshino's roots traced back to Mizu no Kuni¹³. Clan battles took a toll on her family, leaving her and her father as the lone survivors after tragedy claimed her mother and older twin sister Yakumo¹⁴. Struggling to cope, her father, once part of the prestigious Yuki clan, relinquished Hoshino for a chance at a better life with the Hogoromo clan¹⁵.
Yet, life with the Hogoromo proved far from ideal. She navigated their savage ways, learning to be a chameleon in the crowd to survive. From a slave to now a Asobime, she felt the need to break free from the prescribed roles of women—more than just spreading her legs, cooking, and cleaning.
She yearned to entertain, feeling alive in those moments. However, a fateful night and an unfortunate encounter shattered her dreams.
The birth of Waru initially brought joy, but the strict rules of the Yukaka deemed it inappropriate, threatening severe punishment for those who defied. Desperate to avoid the consequences, Hoshino attempted to end the baby's life seven times, knowing she had become a monster by her actions. Yet, a sliver of hope lingered each time, as Waru miraculously survived.
Knowing she had to find a way to rid herself of the child, Hoshino felt the looming threat of a man who, if he discovered the truth, would destroy both of them. A man whom, once upon a time, she naively believed in his love for her. A small part of her still believes in him, thinking he's alive and wants to save her from the Hogoromo scum, even willing to commit patricide for her—all to ask for her hand in marriage.
It was a foolish fantasy, a dream never meant to come true. On that crucial night, he massacred the Hogoromo, but not for her—rather, for his brother. A surge of jealousy overwhelmed her at his unsettling obsession with his brother and his talk of peace, the very peace she had once believed in.
What good did it bring her? He betrayed her, much like her father did, treating her as a mere broodmare and falsely blaming her for the massacre. How could they believe her over such a formidable warrior? She was rejected by him, ridiculed, treated like a besotted fool, and, by the grace of the Sage¹⁶, the Yukaka owned by the Shimura Clan¹⁷ gave her sanctuary.
Moving from one prison to another, life within the Yukaka proved less oppressive compared to her time in the Hogoromo Clan. The Shimura harbored animosity towards all clans boasting formidable kekkei genkai. Aligning herself with their ideals opened her eyes to the systemic prejudice against shinobi clans without kekkei genkai¹⁸, treating them like civilians underfoot.
Hoshino had no qualms about revealing secrets from her former beau's clan or her father's. Information equaled power, and the Shimura aided her in acquiring it. Although she wielded influence within the Yukaka, she still stood several steps below her ultimate goal. It wouldn't be long until she reached it with their assistance. Ever the opportunist, she'd navigate through as many alliances as necessary.
'And if she had to sleep her way through them, she would,' she thought with nonchalance. Even when she was carrying Waru, being pregnant didn't deter her. She continued to amass a significant body count without any hesitation.
Returning to the subject at hand, news spread quickly about that man's demise at the hands of a stuck-in-the-mud albino. She refused to believe it. Yet, her spies confirmed his death thirteen years ago. Nevertheless, her intuition, gut feeling, and the excessive paranoia that had kept her alive until now told a different story.
That man was alive, keeping a low profile. He had to be; her intuition never failed her. She truly believed in it. Even if it was all speculation, she'd hold onto it until there's undeniable proof that satisfies her. Information about his older brother's death was also confirmed by her spies.
However, she knew they were both in cahoots with each other, sharing a relationship that was uncomfortably close and sent shivers down her spine. If that man finds out, and subsequently his older brother, then they're both done for.
Her hand stilled by the revelation – stopping midway from stroking daughters' face, "I won't let that happen. That man doesn't have the right to end you ugly." Her lips pursed and a hint of frenzied possessiveness gripped her,
"I bought you into this 'rotten' world little Waru, and I'll be the one to take you out of it." She vowed kissing the marred flesh she scarred tenderly.
Three shadows materialized in the room, each clad in black Shimura clan attire, their heads adorned with leaf village headbands as they knelt before Hoshino. "Have the preparations been completed? There is no room for disturbances or concealed threats," she inquired, her tone devoid of emotion.
"Hai! Yuki-sama¹⁹," they replied in unison.
"Good. Take me there." She wrapped Waru in a thick woolen blanket before clutching onto the leader of her guardsmen, Jirou²⁰. They shunshin'd²¹ out of the cottage to the edge of the mountain-top.
Moonlight washed over the mountain, creating an ethereal scene. Hoshino, gazed expressionless upon the beauty, and felt internal conflict about what lay ahead. Yet, she regained composure and steeled her heart.
"Leave me," she murmured softly to her men, attempting to stay strong but failing terribly.
Nodding in understanding, they departed and observed from the shadows. However, the newest addition, Usui²², cursed at his mistress's next actions as she callously threw the babe off the mountain edge.
The drop was deep; no babe could survive it.
Jirou noticed this and shot his subordinate a reprimanding look. Caught, Usui scoffed and looked away from his taicho. Modoka²³ stared stoically, but uneasiness reflected in his eyes. Jirou sighed in dismay; he didn't agree with the methods his mistress employed on her child. But it wasn't his business to interfere, nor was it his subordinates'.
However, he could sense the judgmental aura surrounding his men. As shinobi²⁴, they were tools meant to complete missions, even if it meant killing children. Yet, the killing of infants was something they found hard to stomach.
They could handle ending the lives of children, but taking babes straight from the womb was different. They were extremely vulnerable, lacking any means to defend themselves. Only a monster could commit such acts, and Jirou was relieved his men hadn't lost that part of their humanity.
Hoshino watched her babe succumb to the abyss. She hadn't expected to grow attached to her child in mere days. A lone tear fell from her right eye; she quickly wiped it and regained composure. She couldn't afford to be weak right now. Her dream and livelihood were on the line. Her baby was in a better world now; at least in death, it wouldn't experience the hardships of the living.
"Jirou, Modoka, Usui," she uttered, her voice betraying a hint of emotion.
"Hai, Yuki-sama," they responded in unison, lacking any semblance of feeling.
"Let's depart," she commanded.
Unseen by her, a range of expressions flitted across her guards' faces before they nodded in agreement.
"Understood."
Jirou gently touched his mistress's shoulder, offering silent comfort. Though she wasn't a shinobi, the weight of their actions weighed heavily on them both. Especially now, with her own child involved.
Hoshino caught the gesture and gave him a questioning look.
"Are you alright?" he asked softly, treading carefully.
Hoshino's eyes revealed surprise, sadness, and regret in quick succession, eventually settling on a neutral expression. However, the fleeting moments of vulnerability were not lost on Jirou and his comrades, who were discreetly eavesdropping.
Hoshino's gaze hardened, a mask of determination hiding the turmoil within.
"I'm fine," she retorted sharply, her voice laced with steel. Hoshino tightly gripped Jirou's hand before making eye contact with everyone present. "And Jirou, Madoka, Usui, you saw nothing tonight,"
"Hai, Yuki-sama."
"Very well, let us go back to the Yukaka." she responded, a heavy mixture of relief and remorse in her voice.
With that, they executed a shunshin, disappearing from the desolate mountain where the dark secret of her daughter's demise lingered, leaving behind an unsettling silence.
The night, now haunted by the weight of their actions, held its breath, waiting for the repercussions that would inevitably follow.