A Question of Lineage [Kurisu/Open]

[Sagasu Yume]

Everyone had to find out who they are at some point in their life; for Yume that point was coming in short order. She knew her mother and her father well enough as a child but their passing before her coming of age had left a chasm in her heart that made her feel as though she was missing part of herself. She had been raised to have pride in the Inuzuka clan, her mother’s kin, but their treatment of her family left her feeling trapped, behest to tradition and expectations. The appearance of an exile of the clan had torn that sensation asunder and freed her from the foolish notion that limited family to blood. The events had given her reflection on her father’s history as well. She knew very little of Riki and his life before Sunagakure. Whenever she would ask him he would tell her that the stars drew him to the village and then change the subject, leaving her questions unanswered.

It was time for those answers now.

The wreckage of the Kage Tower was a place she had no desire to visit immediately following the occupation. As the dust had settled, so to speak, and the village was on course for returning to the surface she needed to do some rebuilding of her own. Mountains of papers and disheveled archives were strewn where the chaos had left them deep in the bowels of the Tower. Faces covered in surgical masks, she and CuRua searched for records from nearly thirty years prior. She did her best not to disrupt what semblance of order was left; ensuring things didn’t become worse than they were as she pulled any documents that fit the time she sought and placed them on a cleared table for review.

What if we don’t find anything?

We have to find something. As much as he loved mother, there must have been a reason he stayed in Suna.

He got a letter that told him Amegakure was destroyed

And then he never went back out. He stayed for mother and pledged loyalty to Suna. You do just switch village ties like that. The ANBU would have looked into him. There will be something.

Their chattering of fox-like yips would be incoherent to those around them but body language would give a gist of their conversation: they were not in agreement but it wasn’t an argument. Silence would fall as the turquoise haired mednin continued to search through the records, consumed by her investigation.

 

[Uri]

Falling back into line within the confines of the crumbling village was proving a difficult task. There was much disorder and no structure, despite their being leadership. The one safe haven Kurisu had in the ANBU corps no longer existed with the twisting nether creature that ruled it and all the brash heroes of their government would dig them into a deeper hole before helping them see the light. That was why he had set up his office in the ruins of the Kazekage tower. While it served as a symbol of the village's power and heritage, what mattered most were the beehive-like archives buried beneath, containing every scrap of historical knowledge the village had ever compiled. After the terrorists had beset upon Sunagakure and shattered the large spire of the village's might as their first blow, many of the catacombs below had survived.

Workers busied themselves daily digging deeper and clearing rubble. Each couple of hours they would uncover some new archive or another section would collapse and seal off another.

This was a place that the old ANBU felt at home, amongst mountains of facts and data that his mind could quantify. Some considered his mind a curse--many times it was a burden that crippled him in thought--and yet it was his greatest asset and comforter in times of stress. Many could forget or repress memories, but Kurisu couldn't. He could recall his happiest moments like reliving them and it always made it easier.

Clad in nothing but casual attire consisting of sand-colored combat pants, worn leather boots, a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a black vest with dark gray decorations stained into it, and of course his fire country katana that hung lazily at his waist. Around him was a storm of old tomes and stacks of carefully organized papers that he perused and dedicated to remembering for later use. There was no guarantee that these documents would survive the transition in the new village and he would make sure the knowledge would make it.

The room he was in was large and round, the walls rounded, like standing at the bottom of a balloon, curved ladders rigged to a wire system climbing the walls to allow easier access to those searching for an entry. The door was left open and Kurisu watched traffic pass by, noting faces and habits of those who worked in the area. Access to the catacombs was limited and he didn't like random people poking around in sensitive information.

High-pitched squeeks pulled his attention to outside his room, an opened folder in hand, and he observed an Inuzuka have a conversation with its companion. Kurisu quickly stepped out and pulled the woman two steps to her right as an over-loaded cart rolled by where she had just been standing. The height of its contents had blinded the worker and he received a glare from Kurisu for not following protocol. Turning back towards his room, still reading from his file, he chimed in, "Please come with me, these hallways need to be kept clear, and I have some questions for you."<i></i>

The veteran shinobi waited just inside the round portal and would close the door behind Yume and CuRua so they may speak in private. While it wasn't his job, he still acted as security for those that enter the basement of the Kazekage tower.

"Start with your name and your purpose for being within the archives."<i></i>

 

[Sagasu Yume]

The mednin had been so consumed by her quest that she was oblivious to the looming danger of tomes that was making its way toward her. Wide-eyed and heart pounded, she is startled by a strong hand as it pulls her to safety. It was her first instinct to attack but rational caught up in sort order and she realized the harm that could have befallen her if the older man hadn’t been there. His lack of formality and casual nature had a calming effect that served to put the vixen on edge. With the events of late she had been having her share of inquisitions and wondered if it was safe to follow the stranger behind closed doors. Spreading her arms, CuRua leaps to her chest in time to be caught and held as she ventured forward, nervously nuzzling his forehead with her cheek. Her obedience would land her in trouble one day; she wasn’t even certain if this man held any clout in the village but his reaction time encouraged her to comply.

The office she followed him to wasn’t far but shielded behind enough clutter that she hadn’t noticed him when she arrived that afternoon. CuRua’s nose was twitching overtime as he relayed the scent to her despite her ability to pick them up as well. Parchment, hides, ink, dust. There was nothing in this office that screamed danger but her guard remained intact. Keeping her back away from him, she left a few steps between them so that she was out of arms reach.

Sagasu Yume formerly of the Inuzuka clan. I’m here to get a sense of self. These archives contain all information on Suna and its residents; before its decent, births, deaths, marriages, immigrants from other villages. One must know where they come from to know where they are going.

You could just tell him flat out.

Why? I don't even know who he is.

It wasn’t how her parents raised her but the events of the occupation and the fallout since had left a bad taste in her mouth. She had hid in a world of illusion that everyone was your friend resulted in being incapable of handling reality. The fog of Keystone had lifted from her mind weeks prior but the scars remained on the village as a reminder of their vulnerability. Perhaps the Inuzuka were correct in their intolerance; only family could be trusted.


[MFT; WC: 403]

 

[Uri]

"It is a pleasure, Sagasu Yume-san."<i></i> Kurisu offered a half-bow from his waist, allowing his slightly proper attire seem more reasonable, "I am Ametsuchi Kurisu, an ANBU and archivist. My family has been responsible for the protection and maintenance of this knowledge for nearly two centuries."<i></i>

His golden gaze studied the young woman and her fox companion, observing the careful sniffing and relaying of information, trying to literally sniff out danger in the air. Inuzuka were clever sorts and had senses that could feel danger well before the average shinobi.

It was then in the buzzing haze of his mind that the name "Sagasu" chimed a familiar note, and a stream of information came back to him, many of the entries tagged under classified ANBU intelligence, foreign affairs. His stare creased just slightly as he put together the profiles in his mind and stared at the supposed daughter of two people who his younger self had been responsible for tracking early in their family hood.

She wanted to know where she had come from...Kurisu knew. Kurisu perhaps knew too much and had answers this young girl did not want.

"So you need details on a family, to see where they came from, to be able to track down relatives of said family?"<i></i> Kurisu nodded to himself, turning on his heel and looking at the massive bubble of information they stood in, books after books piling up to make for an infinite passage to traverse in search of this specific information, "A noble cause."<i></i> He said finally, returning to his position at the desk with his assembled notes, binders, and tomes.

"But unless you have a requisition form 82b or are of direct descendency of this family or clan, you must leave. Due to the state of the catacombs, all information is sensitive, literally and figuratively."<i></i> Deftly, he removed a pair of wire-thin glasses from his vest pocket and set them on the bridge of his nose, crinkling his face a bit to get them to settle into their natural grooves."Do you need the Sagasu family records or are you digging into someone else's life? One I can help you with, the other I cannot, unless the paperwork has been filed."<i></i>

In the back of his mind, he had contained a riotous laughter every time he mentioned the forms needed to withdraw information. There was no bureaucracy in place to push them through the non-existent system right then.

 

[Sagasu Yume]

Hands on hips, she looked at the man in a way that told you she was trying to determine if he was daft or pulling her leg. She was no stranger to bureaucracy but the mention of needing to fill out form 82B, pulled her arms off her hips and up to cross under her chest. Hips popped to one side and her eyebrow arched. He was definitely the sort who enjoyed the little things about his job.

I'm looking for information on Sagasu Riki. He's a relation of mine.

It ate at her that when she didn't pour out the rest that was on her mind. She wanted to say that he was her father and that she was very familiar with her mother's clan, the Inuzuka of the village. She wanted to say that he had come to the village before she was born and stayed because he had received a letter stating that Amegakure had been destroyed. Her impulse was kept in check by her recent distrust of strangers. She used to have a naivety that chose to believe that all people within the walls of Sunagakure were decent people but after her Uncle alluded to the near downfall of Suna being from the inside, she became much less trusting.

He can't help you if you don't tell him anything

He looks smart. If he's so familiar with the records then he won't have an issue helping me find information with just a name. I know I wouldn't if I were him.

Must you keep all people to your standards of perfection?

Turning her head to look CuRua in the eye where he perched on her shoulder, she blinks very slowly that gave the impression that she wasn't going to reply to whatever he had last said to her. It was obvious to her: Either you did your best or you gave up. She was willing to accept that someones best might not be as good as someone elses but she would not abide willful mediocrity. Smiling, she turns back to Kurisu and pushes her hip out the other way, transfering her weight to her other foot. She was trying not to look flippant or impatient but the fact that she was reserved was all over her body language. In all honesty it was the first venture she had ever done solo. She knew Shinji would tell her to drop in and Urufu would simply tell her that her mother had as bad a taste in men as she did. The Steward was busy rebuilding the village from a physical and governmental standpoint. it just didn't feel right pulling him away for her selfish needs. The only other person she could have wanted in this instance was Uri but the last she had seen of him was in the Palais the moment hell surfaced in the village. The Red Light district was still home to many of those who had been released from prison and Yume dared not to venture there alone.

 

[Uri]

Her body language spoke of someone who didn't look well at others whose jobs stood in her way, someone who could step in and use her universal expertise to do it better, quicker, and more efficiently than the person at the post. Kurisu loved the attitude. That was exactly what he had been like when he was younger, kept in line only by his supreme loyalty to those above him, otherwise he would have probably pushed to become the village's youngest ANBU Sennin.

Wistfully he looked off towards the rows of thousands of files like it was some open skyline, wondering what his life would have been like had he pursued a more assertive life.

Dead.

You would probably be dead.

Either in the Plague wars or any other numerous conflicts that had stricken Sunagakure. It was grim to admit to himself, but it was a darker side of him that reasoned these things, the side that had been trapped in pitch blackness for nearly two decades. Living in one's own coffin warped perspective and reality to such a degree that it was almost cruel, but Kurisu was a unique, more worldly person for it all things considered.

Riki. That old bloke does come back to cause me problems after all.

Mother Suna was a cruel mistress and had a sense of humor that was difficult to understand sometimes. This girl hadn't barely been alive while Kurisu followed her parents and their consorting, a rogue shinobi deciding to stay in a different village for "love" as his sole reasoning. While the youthful skeptic at the time couldn't figure it out, his older, more seasoned self saw it perfectly now why a man like that would abandon his village on just the word of a single man; foolish as the decision had been. It did speak a lot about the kind of man Sagasu Riki was...Trusting, perhaps to a fault.

Clean, curved strokes of his notes signed the page before he closed the folder and looked back to the Inuzuka.

"I will take that on the word of the documentation, my lady."<i></i> He politely smiled, turning on his heels, hands planted on either side of his waist and he peered outward into the spherical hive-like archive. To most it was all chaos, but to the few who understood the ancient system in which the files were originally organized under it was like reading a thoughtful letter. He looked back to his guest, "Do not fret. Give me a moment. Have a seat if you'd like, there is some lukewarm tea and an empty cup on the table if you're thirsty."<i></i>

Since the network beneath the tower was unstable, many of the room had sustained damage, and not all of the ladders remained on their wire-railings to safely recover data upon necessity. Kurisu had taken to using some shinobi-assistance in getting what he needed when he needed it. Along the entire height of the curved room where small seals scratched into the walls, intricate and specific, molded with purpose.

Performing a slow string of handseals, he walked towards the nearest wall holding the last seal only choosing it once he had arrived.

Tiger.

An open palm pressed against it and opalescent white chakra flowed up the wall, igniting each seal with fire as it passed by and stopped after it had ascended ten levels up. The energy grew brighter at the seal for a moment and a clone walked forth. Plain in its features, it could easily be mistaken for an assistant or a genin who had been assigned to help the older ninja. Carefully it paced along the small wooden pathway and stopped at a grouping of files. In a calculated movement, it turned and began extracting the information, adding it to a messenger tote hanging from its side. Ninja could destroy much with their abilities, but so few appreciated the finite details that chakra could arrange and create and repurpose basic needs to.

Once it had finished collecting the contents, it walked back to the original seal point and vanished in a point of light, information and all.

Tiger. Frog. Ox. Dog. Tiger.

And Kurisu reached his hands into the marking on the wall, light chakra glowing and he retrieved the stack of information that the clone had gathered for him, supporting it in one arm like a small child. If Yume or CuRua had been watching carefully enough, they would notice about half the total gathered documents missing; the classified files Kurisu himself had gathered, and the one she wanted. Once he had it, he returned to the table and set down the stack, thumbing through a few until he reached a small, thin book and flipped it open. This was the lineage chart of the Sagasu gathered from her Mother's side and what information Kurisu had gathered on Riki. Yume was there.

He figured humoring her was for the best and until she connected enough dots to link Kurisu to her family's past, he would continue being the helpful clerk.

Turning over the book, he showed the branching structure and held a finger across her father and her name.

"And there you are! Have a look, Sagasu-san."<i></i>

An open hand gesture to the pile and he stood to the side, but was near enough to make sure she wouldn't be able to suddenly damage anything.