Chapter Text
Mikoto trades out her usual dress and apron for Jonin fatigues. Her mother used to say the uniform makes her look more like her brothers. Looking in her vanity mirror, Mikoto doesn't know if she was wrong. Her face has grown thinner since Sasuke’s birth.
“I can help you put your hair up,” Ichigo offers.
She says, “oh, no, you don’t have to. I can manage.”
“Too late, already got the brush.”
His hands are clumsy, but still trying to be careful. He swears under his breath when the brush snags. The bun he puts together still looks carefully practiced.
She catches his gaze in the mirror, “Thank you, sweetling.”
“Don't mention it,” he gruffly replies. He’s blushing, a light pink on his ears.
She thinks Ichigo does too much. For his age, he pushes himself beyond what most would. He never ignores his siblings, and he could be more defiant to his parents. It doesn't matter what anyone says. His brusque attitude, the fights, the blatant disrespect; it's just one part of who he is.
She says,“I'm ready if you are.”
Itachi and Sasuke had already been shuffled off to their aunt's. Ichigo is indifferent to their begging and complaints, even if Sasuke’s crying makes her own heart ache. Itachi listens better to him anyhow no matter how much it irks her.
It still feels nice to be out and about for once even if it's not far from home
. The training grounds close to the compound aren't used very often by others. The grass is uneven in places. The nearby posts had been struck with kunai so much they were jagged on the sides. It’s quiet and private.
As they stretch, Ichigo follows her lead. Her palm is warm and steady on his back. It’s easy to fall back into the old routine of preparing for battle.
“You're getting tall. You’re bound to take more after Masato than Fugaku-- build wise. You won't be very bulky but you will be fast. I'm certain of it. The faster you swing your sword the less likely for your enemy to see it coming. We’ll have to work on that.”
There’s no need to start with the basics. Ichigo has proven himself to know one end of the sword from another. She still wants to see where her son stands. They run drills for a bit just to warm up before Mikoto hands him his sword.
“Take up the stance you normally would when fighting. Don’t adjust it for me to what you think is right. Show me what feels comfortable for you.”
Ichigo hadn't asked his mother to train him before, but she also hasn't offered.
He didn’t want to push her with her bad back. She didn’t want to interfere where she wasn’t wanted. They both had their own presumptions.. As firstborn to the clan head, Fugaku trains with him. It's tradition. Mikoto assumed any son would want his father to teach him instead.
Then again, neither of her own parents trained her.
Even so, both Mikoto and Ichigo know that if given the opportunity, Fugaku is quick to pass over the responsibility of training him to cousins, uncles, or anyone willing. Part of the reason Ichigo started taking on challengers in the first place was due to tiring of his usual opponents.He doesn’t train with his father because he thinks he’s weak, not at all. Fugaku trains him when asked, or when someone else insists upon it, but he does not seek out fighting with his son.
The rumors that Fugaku could be a candidate for Hokage weren't unfounded.
He led his battalion well. As a grown shinobi, he can take control and command a room by simply walking in. Even still, Fugaku is not a warrior, not at heart. He’d been a gentle boy that was prone to tears.The role of a leader was thrust upon him. His true self doesn’t mean much when duty means so much more.
Mikoto wishes she could see what kind man he could--if they lived in a peaceful world. Fugaku certainly would’ve been happy with a simpler life, maybe as a farmer or merchant’s son. He would’ve been a good scholar with his love of books.
Instead, he was born in a noble shinobi clan, with the expectations of nobility, none of the respect, and with blood on their hands.
There’s a small part of Mikoto, one she won’t acknowledge, that resents Fugaku. He stumbled into the role of clan head, while she would've treasured it above all else.
It doesn’t matter now. She’s done all she can for the clan head. It’s time to make sure her son can grow into a proper one. The Hyuuga incident only proved two things: the village will not protect them. She must protect her clan. They all have to do their part, and Ichigo understands that. He does all that he can to protect their family.
He is strong, so beautifully brave and bright, and she will make him stronger.
“You’ve got a solid stance. You’re balanced, but tense. Part of it has to be your size. It will pass once you start getting bigger. Keep steady, but loosen up.”
Ichigo takes a breath and tries to do as she asks. “The steel does feel heavy, but practice will take care of that.”
She slashes her own sword at him without warning. He can only dodge for so long. He’s got good endurance for his age, more than she expected. Her strikes are certain and sure with each move. He’s still not caught off guard. When Ichigo finally tries to counter, she easily diverts and nearly knocks him off his feet. Each clang of their swords colliding, sending sparks into the air. Mikoto circles around him. She walks slowly but with every muscle coiled and ready to move. The brutal clash of their swords sends a thrumming ache down her arms. Ichigo’s own must be burning.
“Remember, Ichigo, your enemy will not let up. The fight may be quick. Your stamina must outpace your enemy’s own.”
“Got it!”
Mikoto believes she is meant for the shinobi life. She likes fighting, in a way Fugkau doesn’t. She likes the thrill of testing her skill. She's good at hiding it, but when she fights, Mikoto simply wants to win. If given the choice, she doesn't think she’d choose the easy, normal life.
She might not have chosen to be a mother, but she tries her best regardless.
Her children will survive above all else.
Ichigo ducks beneath another swing of her sword with a yelp. His stomach hits the ground with a hard slap. It’s strange watching him. It’s like he expects himself to be taller than he is.
“Damn it! Damn it!”
For all Ichigo’s maturity, he’s still prone to frustration easily.
“Take a moment, Ichigo, recenter yourself. This is just training. You’re meant to be learning, not taking a beating. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
He quickly accepts the canteen she tosses his way. Ichigo takes the moment to sit on the damp grass before he asks, “Mom, why did you stop fighting for the village and not Dad?”
The way he asks it makes it seem like an easy question. Mikoto wishes it was
“Your father is the clan head. I am not.” Mikoto says, “even so, he’s needed more within the village. The KMPF needs him too. I don’t think your father would have truly minded a life taking care of you all, but it’s just not the way of things.”
Maybe in another world, she is a clan head.
Maybe in another world, they all get to live peacefully.
There’s no place for such silly dreams.
Ichigo shrugs in response, “Guess it makes sense, but I think Dad has a hard time with some of the stuff that it takes to lead people. He’s not bad at it, not at all. I just think he’s been really stressed about everything. I just think it’s a lot for him.”
“He worries for you,” she replies.
“I know. He said actions have repercussions.” Ichigo thinks a moment before he adds, “He seemed scared. I promised I'd be smart and safe.”
For all his impulsivity, Ichigo is not without empathy.
“If you wish to survive and thrive, you must keep growing strong. That is the one certainty of our clan that I know.
“I don’t care if someone’s on a different level.” Ichigo asserts, “ I’ll fight and win. I won’t just give up because someone is stronger than me. That’s not how you survive.”
Mikotos smile is warm. “ Then we must be ready. Your father is worried you will pick a fight that you can’t possibly win. I believe you can become strong enough to face any opponent. That is why we train.” She straightens her stance as the smile falls away to seriousness.
“Again, strike without hesitation!”