It had been inevitable, in retrospect, that her family would have a reaction.
When Moriko exited the House with mildly wounded dignity, it was not any of her relatives who were there to escort her home. Just Tsukiya, as if he had been waiting there, although she knew he had actually returned home and commandeered the TV.
"I didn't win," were the first words out of her mouth after he gave her a warm look. Stung.
"No, my dear, not on paper," Tsukiya had said. "You are merely the current frontrunner for the next event, which is unlikely to be combat if the Kazekage remains true on his motive. This was on multiple channels, and some of the footage was being played back and still is. You made an impression."
"A good one, I hope," she had said, and accepted the arm he crooked out, lacing hers through it for the walk back to the main city and their homes.
"Do you think you were in sneezing distance of victory over being unlikeable?" he'd asked, putting it into perspective. "Had the full thing gone over, you may well have won the round outright. As it is, you are now favoured. You, a Genin, and moreover the only woman--young or otherwise--in the contest. That alone gives you support."
She'd been thinking about that one on and off all night, since the conversation with Tomoe at the start of it. It was something a lot of people put stock into. Moriko hadn't been sure, the whole time, if she didn't quite get it because gender was one thing she tended to ignore--being fluid (the term she'd found for it) herself. Still, she was a girl around ninety percent of the time...ish. So. Maybe the reason she didn't quite get it on a deeper level was because it was a social thing.
"How important is that, to people?" she'd asked, since he would know better. He'd arched an eyebrow before answering.
"To people who keep track of such things or become indignant after having the inequity pointed out, very," Tsukiya had said. "There was a bit of a stir, to be truthful. I am unsure if that will impact the results in the next round or not. It depends, I suppose."
Yes, it depended what it was, among other things. Would that current heat or cool in the coming month--and moreover, which was more favourable to her and her aims?
It had been when they'd reached the Tsurara compound that the air had become frostier. Appropriately. Being as frost was in her blood, Moriko was perfectly comfortable with this, although she caught the flash of worry on Tsukiya's face after he'd kissed her goodbye, quickly hidden. And that was a certain warmth that she wasn't entirely sure most of her family knew.
The scolding had been from the non-ninja elders. At this, she was apparently not the clan heir, not the future leader of the part that mattered, and they simply clucking. Even though that was so. No, from them and the older adults, she had drawn focus incorrectly.
"If you want to aspire to mediocrity," Moriko had said, among other less-remembered things, "then be my guest. I will not."
And that was the final word she'd given on the subject, knowing she'd spend the next month with that set walking on eggshells around her. Fine; whatever. It wasn't as if she'd always thrown over their ridiculous nonsense...oh wait. Perhaps they'd just thought her deviations from clan attitude to be ineffectual rebellion from the hell child. In which case, they'd been sorely misreading her for years and their opinions were safely discarded; she had been correct to always do so.
(At least they hadn't blamed Tsukiya or told her to stop seeing him. Perhaps they'd realized that would be futile, or perhaps they didn't want to alienate her further when it was looking like she'd be a lot more hands-on than either her grandmother Sumire had been or her mother Yuri was. Perhaps they simply hadn't thought it at all. Which was rather funny; he actually had been the catalyst for this, after all.)
What had differed was the reaction from the younger set, her generation and younger.
Even those around her age and some a little older had always regarded her with a bit of awe, particularly since she'd become a Genin. The storm untouchable, was the impression she apparently gave them. Moves about unhindered by clan expectations. Despite being young like them, flaunting her talents, and not letting anyone tell her not to.
This, the fact she was the frontrunner in all essence for the next Sennin slot, appeared to simply add to her legend. They were excited for her, not upset; those in the Academy chattered proudly to her classmates, even those whose names she had difficulty remembering. It was enough to be clan. They mostly watched her in increased awe, whispering excitedly about how she dared, how there could be a Tsurara Sennin some day soon and not even one of the real adults. And of course it would be her of any of them! She stands out so well.
Moriko...wasn't sure how she felt about that, right through it. She mostly ignored it, which did not make it abate. A few approached her and wished her luck in the next round, brimming with excitement, and when she thanked them politely skipped off happily to tell their closer cousins and sundry she'd spoken nicely to them. It was a bit much, truthfully.
Easier to deal with were the reactions of those she was vaguely closer to. Hanae had simply wished her luck as well, with a wink that had made Moriko revise whether or not any of her relatives had known ahead of the event. Kumiko and her wife down the way, whom Moriko saw every now and then still, had been bright and sincere and most importantly given her mochi when wishing her luck, and their young son had been thrilled that someone he knew had been 'on real TV and everything!' even if he didn't fully understand the event.
Partway through the month, she was informed it would not be a fight but a debate. She would've almost preferred the fight, but Tsukiya had pointed out that she did not have issues with public speaking, really; her people issues were on an emotional and personal level, not a professional one. She was quick-witted and not necessarily the physically strongest or skilled fighter, so this was all to her good. Moreover, he'd added, it demonstrated the Kazekage really did mean what he was on about, that fighting skills were not a huge factor.
She'd conceded that, and went to brush up on her knowledge of law and operations procedure, developing opinions on both naturally.
Now she was back in the same sort of scene as a month before, standing in the district where it would all go down. Nervous?
No, actually. Nothing here would do her real harm. And she would not be called upon to interact on an emotional or personal level with individual people. She knew that, and therefore it would be beneath her dignity to display fear or nerves. Or to even feel it.
So she didn't.
"You already know what I think of your chances," Tsukiya said, "but good luck. I will be in the stands. I will find your cheering section."
She made a face at him, but couldn't deny that probably both sides would have one. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Adulation for things she accomplished was...still thorny, in her mind, given the last month and her younger cousins.
"All right," she said. "I'll do what I can."
"As always, my dear," Tsukiya said, and took her hand to kiss the back before heading toward the spectator doors.
Moriko took a deep breath, exhaled, and stepped into the contestants' pathways, walking in silence on her own, footsteps echoing around her.
Nervous yet?
No.
She emerged into the bright, open arena to a swell of cheering from the crowd and blinked at the sudden daylight. The entire place was, much like the house, a show of extravagance. Right down to the copious amount of water flowing underneath her feet that nudged at her senses as she walked down the iron bridge to the center, where her opponent Uziuke already waited. Did she know him...? Vaguely, yes; he'd been on the desert mission, for one thing, but she didn't have a strong impression one way or the other.
Moriko had of course taken appropriate measures on her own appearance this time. She was armed, just in case, but much less so than she had been before, opting to eschew the bow and quiver. All her other options were ranged anyway, and much less visually noticeable. She kept her sourness over the description of her inside, but it was inevitable, wasn't it? It's a Tsurara; look how pretty! Really, she would've been pleasantly surprised at anything else.
Not that it was even possible to make herself look otherwise. So she hadn't tried. Clean white blouse, with subtle impressions of her clan's symbol on the collar and cuffs, outlined in deep blue. Skirt her usual length, pleated indigo with silvery-blue trim. Thigh-high socks, the same pale icy shade, a stripe of the same indigo around them near the top. Rather than any sort of cute-girl shoes, solid boots that went partway up her calves, black as pitch but for the pale blue lacework. Her knife was sheathed in a hip holster, visible and evident, next to a pouch of shuriken in a style anyone would recognize as being for a weapon. They did not detract from her look; pouch, sheath, and hilt of knife were all the same inky shade as the boots.
Appearances did matter, after all.
She stepped onto the central platform, gave her opponent and the host alike polite nods, and settled into the empty podium. Tall and undisturbed, placid as ice.
Her gaze did scan across the crowd and she did pick up a group of her cousins, but for some reason she found Tsukiya easily as well, despite there being many blond heads in the crowd and only one cluster of pale blue. He evenly met her gaze and for just an instant the back of her hand felt as though she'd been kissed there again. She blinked and it went away, and she turned her full attention to what lay ahead.
Put that mystery aside.
What was this debate to be about, exactly?
