The winter festival in Konoha is celebrated differently to the capital. The lanterns back home had been a vibrant red, symbolic of the new year. People dressed in their finest formal wear to herald in a year of good fortune. Though the streets were often cold and sometimes snow even fell, the warm bask of red light and the sweet, hot sake sold at every second vendor was enough to keep the cold away.
In Konoha, the lanterns are all blue. People dress in red, though, their way to honour the new year, and from her high vantage point Miyu can’t help but admire the contrast in the streets.
She watches from her balcony, blinking down at the bustling crowd. Blue lanterns in all shades are strung in almost every street, zig-zagging between buildings of different heights to create beautiful, chaotic structure.
“Yo,” Kakashi’s voice scares the life out of her, and she almost slips on the slick surface of her balcony.
“Kakashi-san!” Miyu places a hand to her heart and realises his hand on her back is the only thing that stopped her from slipping onto her ass.
“Sorry,” he doesn’t sound it in the least, the menace. “I’m here to chaperone you to your chaperone.”
Miyu smiles at that, ignoring the lingering embarrassment burning at her cheeks, “I didn’t think Naruto-san would have time to take me around today. Surely he’d like to spend time with his friends?”
Kakashi cocks his head at her, hand still resting on her back. She wills the burning in her cheeks to go away.
“You are his friend, Miyu-san,” he says blandly, “don’t imply otherwise. It’d break his little heart.”
“Oh,” she looks back down to the street, “I… assumed I was an obligation more than anything.”
He blinks his one visible eye slowly.
“I’m going to ignore that,” he says offhandedly, and then steps closer to her. She can feel the heat he seems to radiate through her kimono, even as her own cheeks flood with warmth at their proximity. “Now, you’ll have to excuse me.”
He sweeps her feet from beneath her, lifting her into his arms effortlessly.
“Kakashi-san-”
“Don’t worry,” he says as he jumps up onto her railing, “us ninja are much less inclined to slipping than you lot.”
And then he hops down to street level using the balconies of her apartment complex.
Heart still in her throat, but glad she hadn’t screamed, Miyu is set down on the street with care.
“I don’t see why we couldn’t have taken the stairs,” she’s sure to keep the sharpness from her tone. Surely, he’s doing it for the fun of laughing at her now.
“We could have,” Kakashi shrugs. But he’s unmoving as he looks at her, not making to lead the way.
“Kakashi-san…?” she cocks her head, blinking up at him in the blue-tinged lantern light. His hair looks peculiar, full of pale colour now, and he sticks out oddly from the crowd in his jounin gear.
He raises an arm, and reaches towards her.
Miyu holds her breath as his hand passes by her face. His fingers smooth at her hair for a moment, and she hears the tinkle of the glass ornaments on her hairpin as he straightens it.
He meets her eye, expression unreadable. She hopes the flush on her cheeks will pass as a reaction to the cold.
His hand drops back to his side slowly, and he tucks it into his pants pocket.
Miyu clears her throat and arranges the half of her hair that’s down to cover her exposed throat. Gods, she thought the half-up, half-down hairstyle would work in her favour in this freezing weather, but in hindsight it mightn’t have been the best decision.
“Crooked,” he says belatedly.
“Thank you,” is her soft reply.
Kakashi turns abruptly and leads the way through the throngs of red-clad citizens. Blushing, Miyu sticks close to him.
They come upon the group within five minutes, crowded around a stand selling dango and tea.
She spots Sakura and Naruto immediately. They’re both dressed in variations of their usual outfits, with accents of red – though Sakura’s is much unchanged.
Sasuke is standing exasperatedly between them as they fight to pay the bill.
“-paid last time Sakura-chan! I’ve got this one, believe it!”
“So what if I got it last time? I’m allowed to spoil my teammates – you know I’m well paid!”
“But Sakura-chan, I wanted to-”
“Ah,” the vendor smiles at them apologetically, “Uchiha-san has taken care of it...”
“Sasuke!”
They both whirl on their teammate, and Miyu can’t help laughing at his long-suffering expression.
All three of them look to her, and she bows shallowly in greeting.
“Good evening,” she can’t keep the smile out of her voice, “it’s good to see you three.”
“Miyu-chan!” Naruto just about bounces over, thrusting a stick of mitarashi dango into one hand, and a cup of tea in the other.
“Naruto-san, I-”
“Kampai!” he yells, and the other members of team seven tap their cups to hers before taking a swig of tea.
Miyu is left laughing as they all blanch upon burning their tongues, though Sakura remedies that rather quickly.
“Will Yamato-san be joining us?” Miyu asks, blowing at her own cup before she takes a sip.
“He’s on security, unfortunately,” Kakashi supplies, an empty stick of dango perched in his fingers. Miyu does a small double take, wondering when the hell he had the time to scoff the dumplings down.
“That’s a shame,” she says, and means it. Yamato is quiet, but she knows he’s kind, can see the love he has for his team. “Perhaps we should get him some dango to-go?”
“Aw, Miyu-san,” someone slings an arm around her shoulder, and she looks up to see Ensui smirking at her, “were you gonna grab some for me, too?”
“Why would she do that?” Sasuke gives Ensui’s arm a narrow-eyed stare. “You’re literally right here.”
“He’s kidding, dumbass,” Sakura, elbows him playfully in the side, but her eyes are scanning the rooftops around them.
“Here,” Miyu offers Ensui her dango. “My thanks for helping me deal with banking bureaucracy the other day.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Ensui accepts the stick with a raised brow.
“You say it as though I actually contributed. All I did was watch you do all the work.”
Miyu huffs out a laugh, “Trust me I needed all the moral support I could get. Hideo-san has been giving me grief for the past three months because he doesn’t think single women are suited to investing.”
“Is someone giving you a hard time Miyu-chan?” Naruto jumps into the conversation, metaphorical weapons blazing, “I’ll back you up!”
Miyu smiles fondly at the blond, and shakes her head.
“It’s been sorted, Naruto-san. Thank you for the offer.”
Sakura is peering at her oddly.
“If the bank continues to be a problem, let me know. I’ll come with you next time.”
Miyu takes in the woman’s ready stance, her squared shoulders, and the set of her jaw, and has to force away the blush threatening her cheeks. Gods, why is she so attracted to strong women?
“Of course, Sakura-san,” she nods, and hopes she won’t have to. Surely Hideo-san was intimidated enough by a Nara glaring at him for two hours.
“Let’s go play some festival games!” Naruto forges a trail through the crowd, and Ensui’s arm slips from her shoulders as they make their way through the crowds after him.
They’re walking slow enough that Miyu has time to look at the vendors they pass. Most of them are serving food, but many are selling their wares. She stops at a glass vendor, eyeing the intricate figurines. There’s a standing kanji for ‘fire’, clear and small and beautiful.
A Hashirama leaf, so detailed she can see the ripples along its surface as though it’s being tousled by a gentle breeze.
“Amazing,” she murmurs, lifting her gaze to the vendor. A rather grumpy looking old man stares back at her. “Did you make these?”
He gives her a curt nod.
She steps a little closer, and peers at the exquisite animal figurines, small enough to fit into the palm of her hand.
“These are wonderful,” she says, absorbed by the unfailing details. She picks a little bird, a cat, and a wolf, and asks for them to be bagged. She hands over the cash, accepts the little bag, and when she turns around Ensui and Kakashi are talking quietly between themselves as they wait for her.
“Sorry,” she smiles sheepishly, “got side-tracked.”
“We figured,” Ensui drawls, “but take your time. We’re not in a rush.”
They continue their walk, and Miyu finds herself drawn to countless artisans.
“Kakashi-san, look!” she tugs at his sleeve, eyes bright as she points to the beautifully decorated kites at a rather busy vendor, “Oh, they’re stunning!”
She watches, feeling warm, as a woman purchases one, handing it to a man who offers it to the little girl perched on his shoulders.
As a child she’d sometimes find the remains of broken winter kites left in the park. She did her best to repair them, but they never flew for her – well, not for long anyway.
They had been pretty, even while torn and missing pieces, half-soaked with slushy mud.
In their worst winters, Miyu had gathered as many as she could to use for kindling when their shabby house became so cold that her breath fogged before her, even under her threadbare blanket. She’d burn them for the few minutes of reprieve they brought.
Watching the soiled kites go up in flames had only made her cry the first few times.
“Miyu?”
Kakashi’s voice is low, and his soft touch at her elbow doesn’t startle her for once.
Blinking away the image of pretty wings set alight, Miyu realises her smile has fallen.
“Sorry,” she offers a quirk of her mouth, feeling terribly sorry for the little girl who cried over kites while her mother lay bloodied in the next room over.
Warm fingers under her chin, and Kakashi tilts her face up to him.
“Do you need to leave?” his voice is pitched low enough that she’s sure she’s the only one to hear it.
“No,” she smiles, but it wobbles so she stops. “I’m alright. Just remembered something sad.”
He takes in her face for another moment, and then his calloused touch is gone. Miyu looks to the ground, the slight weight of her earrings swaying unfamiliarly and brushing against her neck.
“Sake time?” Ensui’s voice cuts into the quiet between them, and Miyu nods immediately.
Sake. Yes.
They stop at a vendor selling warm sake and mochi, and Miyu gets a strawberry one. She, Kakashi and Ensui tap their little paper cups together, chorus, “Kampai!” and down their drinks like shots.
The familiar taste burns as it goes down, and Miyu finds herself blinking back tears at the sudden rush of memories with Kikyo. At last year’s winter festival in the capital, they’d cackled over cheap paper cups and chosen out the ugliest wooden souvenir they could find for Nanami.
They also chose her a beautiful necklace that Miyu had seen the geisha wearing more than once.
Sasuke joins them with another round, and Miyu downs it as easily as the first.
It doesn’t ease the stinging in her eyes or the burning at her throat.
A touch at her neck startles her out of her moping. Sasuke is standing closer now, hand outstretched to move her hair. He’s peering at her earrings – a single glass snowflake for each ear.
“These are pretty,” he comments, and the warmth from his fingers tickles at her ear as he inspects the little ornament. “Where did you get them?”
Itachi had bought them for her.
“They were a gift,” she says, ignoring the flush across the bridge of her nose at the thought.
Sasuke stares at them for another few moments before –
“Sa-su-ke!”
Shisui’s voice is loud, and when Miyu turns to look he’s waving his cast at them with a grin. Itachi is at his side, expression unreadable even as his gaze meets hers.
She smiles in greeting, but his eyes dart away before she can meet his gaze.
As they join the group, she takes in the very intentional placement of Kakashi between them and holds back a sigh. She wants more sake.
They join the others, have another round of drinks, and end up on Miyu’s balcony to view the fireworks.
She stands alone amongst the group, forearms leaning against her railing as she tilts her head back to gaze up at the huge expanse of navy above them. She’s watching as the first firework explodes in a dazzling array of white and blue.
The soft chatter around her fades away, and Miyu gets lost in the vibrant showers of blue and white and silver. The colours shimmer against the backdrop of stars and empty space, and she finds herself wishing for just one more festival back in the capital.
Just one more night when Nanami was home early enough that they could all go see the fireworks together.
One second of privacy, one more moment with Itachi before he got summoned away.
The last firework explodes in a huge shower of red sparks that has the crowd gasping in awe.
Miyu misses Nanami. She misses Kikyo.
She bites her lip, and shuts her eyes, because she misses Itachi, too. He’s barely a metre away, but he feels so far.
It only makes the ache in her chest fiercer as she recalls Masa’s words every new year.
The way one spends the new year is an indication of the way one will spend the rest of the year, Miyu-chan. Spend it well, always.
“Miyu,” Itachi’s voice is low and smooth, and she lets herself hope as he slants an unreadable look down at her.
And then he opens his mouth and says, “My parents have extended an invitation for you to dine at the compound in two days’ time.”
Oh.
Oh no.
.
When Miyu thinks about it, every major event attended by Nanami had incurred her rigorous ritual. No one mentioned the ritual at the Okiya, ever, lest they wish for Nanami’s full anxiety-induced nerves to swiftly whip at them.
Miyu had often prepared the bath water – adding flower petals and a specially prepared powder mixture to turn the surface milky. She had sat there, silently, watching as sleek, dark hair spooled in the scented water. Had brushed that hair out as many times as it took for the stiff line of Nanami’s shoulders to finally unwind.
Then she’d leave the room, returning to her own to practice openings. But she’d listen as the geisha practiced her laugh, her songs, a few melodic greetings.
As she readies the water for her own bath, Miyu holds those memories of Nanami close. Her gaze catches on dark petals as they release their gentle fragrance into the bath. She undresses slowly, tonight’s kimono already laid out on her bed for later.
She sinks into the heat, dunking her head and marvelling at the rich, silky feel of the water. Miyu lathers shampoo into her hair twice. Conditions the ends with a non-scented treatment that makes her tresses slip through her fingers into the bath.
When she closes her eyes, she can almost pretend that Nanami is with her. Every scent, every petal that brushes against the tops of her knees, every second spent letting the water unwind her tight muscles.
Nanami, here with her, helping her prepare for whatever tonight will throw at her.
When she ends her bath she leaves the petals in the tub and decides to save the cleaning until after she’s returned. She can do the whole house if she’s restless enough.
She towels her hair as much as she can, and stares down at her chosen outfit as she waits for it to dry enough for her to style.
The shopping trip she embarked on yesterday had been thankfully successful. She’s chosen a pale blue kimono, with a pretty, rather geometric pattern in white focused around the sleeves and lower hem. Her obi matches.
She knows it will make her appear cold and unreachable. It’s exactly the defence she wants.
Dressing slowly, she ensures each layer is perfect and comfortable. She wonders if this kimono will be ruined like her lilac one, and then forces the thought from her mind.
The lilac one had gone up in flames long before the Okiya.
She looks at her hair, and picks out a simple black hairpin without any adornments. It’s well made, weighty in her hand. Elegant and understated.
Tonight, she will keep her calm, and try to dissuade any negative preconceptions. She will hold her tongue as much as possible in the presence of the clan head and his wife.
She brushes her hair and begins the process of twisting her hair into a perfect, modest bun.
Sugawara Miyu is a civilian. Not geisha. Not ninja.
Sugawara Miyu holds herself with dignity and will conduct herself as such tonight.
When she’s done, she meets her own brown eyes in the reflection in her mirror. Her face is pale with the exception of a light pink tint to her cheeks from her bath. She forgoes makeup, deciding a bare-faced appearance will be truest to her character.
Before she leaves, she stands at her makeshift shrine in the living room and bows deeply.
“I carry you with me tonight,” she murmurs into the empty apartment.
She checks her kimono one more time to ensure it’s perfect.
The knock comes, and an Uchiha she’s never seen before leads the way to the compound.
Miyu takes a deep, calming breath, and follows.
