Anyway, i'm writing a naruto piece with all this "fangirl" nonsense pruned out. Because chuckg wasn't far off the mark when he complained that he'd seen Pron that treated female characters with far more dignity and respect than Kishimoto does in Naruto. I mean seriously, Karin, just... KARIN.
Well, that's where I started and the story just sort of went all over the place from there (as you may have guessed from the title). I need a few heads to bounce ideas off of. Give me some feedback? Please?
Snippet 1
Spoiler: show
Yamanaka Sayuri sipped her tea as she considered her guest. Haruno Hiroko, she had come to realize, was a formidable woman. There had been no need to ask about the rather vicious rumors that had swirled around the woman since her return to Kohonakagure two months ago. Haruno-san was easily astute enough to guess the motive behind the invitation to tea from her daughter's new best friend's mother. She knew that Sayuri wanted to gauge her character, to ensure that little Ino was not falling in with the unwanted child of a disreputable woman. She knew she was being judged, and she bore it with steadfast calm and dignity.
She spoke calmly and forthrightly, her voice neither challenging nor apologetic, as she recounted the years she spent away from her home town. She admitted the foolishness of youth that precipitated her sudden and somewhat scandalous departure, and while skirting around the full details of what brought her back, she made it clear that contrary to rumor, her husband had died, and died honorably. She was not an abandoned wife throwing herself on the mercy of the family that she had once spurned, but a widow returning to the town that was her home, of her own accord now that her husband's work no longer kept her away; with no need for charity from anyone. There was no sign of irritation at the gossip, no petulance about the unfairness of it all, only carefully measured out grief, as politeness dictated - enough to make one's feeling clear, but not enough to discomfit anyone else. Hiroko's back was unbowed, and her eyes clear, ready to stare down any who would slander her husband, and declare that Yoichiro Haruno had died no less honorably or well than any of Kohona's finest.
That much had brought a hint of a smile to Sayuri's face. The Haruno had traditionally shied away from the pursuing the way of the ninja, preferring to expand their prosperous financial holdings and ever burgeoning library, but they could not help but soak up some of the attitudes of the ninja that dominated the village. Dying well was important for ninja, who knew that might be called upon to spend their lives for the sake of their comrades or their village at any time. Their lives, the accumulated experience and skill they presented, were the villages most valuable resource, wealth not to be spent lightly. That was the among the first lessons a prospective ninja of the leaf was taught: that she must be prepared to lay down her life for her village, but that such sacrifice must be made for worthy ends in time of need. Konoha invested much in it's shinobi and kunoichi, and wanted them to live long enough to make the investment worthwhile. Konoha ninja would not be fodder to be cast heedlessly into the fire like the poor souls awarded headbands by some other villages. Iwa forgot it's 'lesser' nin, and told it's children the space was now open for the strong to fill; Konoha carved the names of its dead into stone and cherished their memory. It was a point in Hiroko's favor that she understood the meaning of sacrifice.
She spoke calmly and forthrightly, her voice neither challenging nor apologetic, as she recounted the years she spent away from her home town. She admitted the foolishness of youth that precipitated her sudden and somewhat scandalous departure, and while skirting around the full details of what brought her back, she made it clear that contrary to rumor, her husband had died, and died honorably. She was not an abandoned wife throwing herself on the mercy of the family that she had once spurned, but a widow returning to the town that was her home, of her own accord now that her husband's work no longer kept her away; with no need for charity from anyone. There was no sign of irritation at the gossip, no petulance about the unfairness of it all, only carefully measured out grief, as politeness dictated - enough to make one's feeling clear, but not enough to discomfit anyone else. Hiroko's back was unbowed, and her eyes clear, ready to stare down any who would slander her husband, and declare that Yoichiro Haruno had died no less honorably or well than any of Kohona's finest.
That much had brought a hint of a smile to Sayuri's face. The Haruno had traditionally shied away from the pursuing the way of the ninja, preferring to expand their prosperous financial holdings and ever burgeoning library, but they could not help but soak up some of the attitudes of the ninja that dominated the village. Dying well was important for ninja, who knew that might be called upon to spend their lives for the sake of their comrades or their village at any time. Their lives, the accumulated experience and skill they presented, were the villages most valuable resource, wealth not to be spent lightly. That was the among the first lessons a prospective ninja of the leaf was taught: that she must be prepared to lay down her life for her village, but that such sacrifice must be made for worthy ends in time of need. Konoha invested much in it's shinobi and kunoichi, and wanted them to live long enough to make the investment worthwhile. Konoha ninja would not be fodder to be cast heedlessly into the fire like the poor souls awarded headbands by some other villages. Iwa forgot it's 'lesser' nin, and told it's children the space was now open for the strong to fill; Konoha carved the names of its dead into stone and cherished their memory. It was a point in Hiroko's favor that she understood the meaning of sacrifice.
Spoiler: show
"It must be difficult for Sakura, without her father," Sayuri offered, dangling that observation out to fish for more intelligence on the mysteriously tight lipped girl.
Hiroko's composure faltered for the first time since she'd stepped across the threshold of the Yamanaka's home. Though they would be subtle in other circumstances, the direction of her gaze and the sudden tightness of her fingers on her teacup were positively jarring against the unblemished mien she had previously maintained. "She watched him die. I wanted to leave but she wouldn't move, and I didn't dare draw any further attention to us. She saw the whole thing; watched without a sound, without a flinch, without a tear. Not until we were safely back in Fire country did she even allow herself to cry." She set down the teacup, staring down into it as though the tea might offer her an answer. "I used to be so proud that my daughter was so precocious, so mature for her age." That was punctuated by something that was at once a bitter laugh and a sob. "Now I wish she'd had more time to be a child." She finally looked up again, meeting Sayuri's eye. "Ino's gotten her to speak more in a week than I have in several months. She's done a better job of comforting my daughter than I have." Her gaze fell again. "And a better job of protecting her."
"You weren't the one to take her father from her, Hiroko. You can't blame yourself for that." Sayuri set her own teacup down and took Hiroko's hand in her own. "There is only so much that lies within our ability to affect." She spread the other woman's clenched fingers with her thumb, cupping the hand with her own. "These hands can protect our daughters from reaching out to touch a stove, but cannot prevent them from being curious. And however much we protect them, they must leave the nest eventually." She let go of the other woman and gestured out the window, to the garden where their daughters had gone to play. "I worry sometimes, about reading Ino for the Kunoichi ranks. I wonder if she'll thank us for it, ten years down the line, when she's attended the funerals of too may friends and washed the blood out of her clothes far too many times. But in the end, it's her choice to make, and if she walks that path, I'll make her as ready as I can." Sayuri shook her head. "You were a merchant factor, and surely traveled where danger lurked quite often. I was a kunoichi, and danced a perilous line alongside death for years. Yet here we are, drinking tea, and worrying about our daughters, while many others who chose safer lives died as girls, from sickness, or as young women from accident, before they could even consider having daughters of their own." Sayuri's fingers traced the scar across her right forearm, the sole feature that marred her smooth white skin. "Your husband died for what he thought just. It's a better death than many in this village had. I think Sakura recognizes that, already."
Hiroko was still for several moments. then finally whispered, "I think you're right. Sakura understood why he died. I was just afraid she'd decided to follow his footsteps too closely. But you're right. It's a choice for her to make." She cleared her throat, her voice returning to firmness. "Sakura told me today that she wants to go to the Academy." There was no need to say 'Ninja Academy'; in Konoha there was only one 'Academy.' Her gaze locked with Sayuri's. "Would the Yamanaka Clan be willing to sponsor her?"
Hiroko's composure faltered for the first time since she'd stepped across the threshold of the Yamanaka's home. Though they would be subtle in other circumstances, the direction of her gaze and the sudden tightness of her fingers on her teacup were positively jarring against the unblemished mien she had previously maintained. "She watched him die. I wanted to leave but she wouldn't move, and I didn't dare draw any further attention to us. She saw the whole thing; watched without a sound, without a flinch, without a tear. Not until we were safely back in Fire country did she even allow herself to cry." She set down the teacup, staring down into it as though the tea might offer her an answer. "I used to be so proud that my daughter was so precocious, so mature for her age." That was punctuated by something that was at once a bitter laugh and a sob. "Now I wish she'd had more time to be a child." She finally looked up again, meeting Sayuri's eye. "Ino's gotten her to speak more in a week than I have in several months. She's done a better job of comforting my daughter than I have." Her gaze fell again. "And a better job of protecting her."
"You weren't the one to take her father from her, Hiroko. You can't blame yourself for that." Sayuri set her own teacup down and took Hiroko's hand in her own. "There is only so much that lies within our ability to affect." She spread the other woman's clenched fingers with her thumb, cupping the hand with her own. "These hands can protect our daughters from reaching out to touch a stove, but cannot prevent them from being curious. And however much we protect them, they must leave the nest eventually." She let go of the other woman and gestured out the window, to the garden where their daughters had gone to play. "I worry sometimes, about reading Ino for the Kunoichi ranks. I wonder if she'll thank us for it, ten years down the line, when she's attended the funerals of too may friends and washed the blood out of her clothes far too many times. But in the end, it's her choice to make, and if she walks that path, I'll make her as ready as I can." Sayuri shook her head. "You were a merchant factor, and surely traveled where danger lurked quite often. I was a kunoichi, and danced a perilous line alongside death for years. Yet here we are, drinking tea, and worrying about our daughters, while many others who chose safer lives died as girls, from sickness, or as young women from accident, before they could even consider having daughters of their own." Sayuri's fingers traced the scar across her right forearm, the sole feature that marred her smooth white skin. "Your husband died for what he thought just. It's a better death than many in this village had. I think Sakura recognizes that, already."
Hiroko was still for several moments. then finally whispered, "I think you're right. Sakura understood why he died. I was just afraid she'd decided to follow his footsteps too closely. But you're right. It's a choice for her to make." She cleared her throat, her voice returning to firmness. "Sakura told me today that she wants to go to the Academy." There was no need to say 'Ninja Academy'; in Konoha there was only one 'Academy.' Her gaze locked with Sayuri's. "Would the Yamanaka Clan be willing to sponsor her?"
