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Chapter 11: A Lioness and Her Cub

> “A lioness will use all of her strength even when hunting a rabbit.”

>

> ― Kazuki Nakashima, Kill la Kill, Vol. 3

Noramori rolled over in bed and promptly fell out of it.

As she slammed into the floor, she came awake with a groan.

"Ow, what the fuck?" This hadn't happened to her since the days she spent in a group home.

'How did I even manage to fall out of my futon? It's on the floor.

Her eyes widened as she shoved herself up off the floor and looked around frantically.

"Where am I?" This is not my house.

She looked around at the sparse bedroom. The walls were painted white with several tones. It looks like someone had patched up quite a few cracks and holes and painted it with whatever paint they could find. Some parts looked like fresh coast, while others were yellowing and cracking. Water stains could be seen gracing the ceiling and running down to trail along the corners of two of the four walls. The floor was neat, but it gave off the vibe that someone had frantically cleaned up a mess very recently.

The clothes hamper that stood in the corner of the room lent credence to that thought. It was stuffed to the brim with dirty orange jumpsuits and a few white t-shirts and green shorts.

'Those look like Naruto's clothes, but why... wait... what happened last night?'

Noramori hurriedly opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. It looked similarly decrepit and run-down. Someone, probably Naruto, had been trying to repair any damage that had affected the structure, but no matter how much you shine a piece of shite, it's just that: a piece of shite.

She tiptoed down the hallway in a daze.

'Why am I here? We are barely 8 years old. Nothing happened, right?'

Noramori was scared of the answer to that question. It wasn't like she had those types of cravings, but Naruto was like a brother to her, and they both were entirely too young to think of anything along those lines.

As she approached the entrance to the living room, she noted a bare foot dangling over the edge of the couch. A barefoot boy who attached himself to a sleeping Naruto.

The young Uzumaki was sprawled out, all four limbs spread over a different part of the couch. One of his arms was hooked over the back of the couch, while the other dangled toward the floor. Both of his legs dangled off the edge of the couch, one hooked behind the knee over the arm of the couch, and the other bent and touched the floor at the front of the couch. He looked like he was in the process of slowly pouring down the couch to spill across the floor.

His mouth was wide open, and his head was bent backward like he was trying to hide it underneath his back.

'Ooof, that cannot be comfortable. Oh, is that drool? Gross.'

She gave a small smile at Naruto's sleeping form.

"So I slept in the bed and he slept on the couch." Thank god.'

'But again, why am I here?

As Noramori pondered that question, last night and the fight with her father came pouring back to her.

After Ichiraku had given her the best meal of her life, she had begun sobbing in Naruto's arms.

Things were a bit hazy after that, but she remembered him trying to get her to tell him what was wrong and then just frantically repeating "I can't go back" over and over until Naruto had caved and brought her back to his place.

He had made her stay outside while he "got the place ready."

'He was probably frantically cleaning. Too bad, I probably wouldn't have even noticed with the state I had been in.'

Her eyes glanced over at the multiple garbage bags in the kitchen. One of them was open and appeared to be filled with nothing but instant ramen.

"Ha, he was frantically cleaning last night."

After he let her inside, he led her to the bathroom and gave her one of his white t-shirts and some gray cargo shorts. They are pretty close to the same size right now. Neither of them had grown much, but even so, Noramori was much closer to the short side than he was. At least this was true for an 8-year-old.

She had stood under the water for a long time, letting it wash away all the blood and grime that had accumulated from her previous "training" sessions. It felt nice. While her family could probably easily find her. It seemed like her dad had been forced to face his guilt enough that he didn't send anyone after her. There was a big yet at the end of that thought; however, it seemed she was safe for now.

She looked around the room and saw that it didn't contain much. There were a few copies of various academy books on a small table that appeared to be fashioned from milk crates. Next to the DIY table was what appeared to be a rickety rocking chair, sans rocking. Someone had bolted wooden blocks to the curves at the bottom to keep it from moving around while they presumably sat down to read. The only thing was that both the chair and the academy books looked like they had collected a sizeable layer of dust.

She shook her head and giggled, "One of these days, I'll teach him how to read."

Naruto knew how to read and was quite good at it. Unfortunately, his attention span for dry and sterile academy reading material was at or approaching zero from day one.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

In his words, "Those geezers that wrote this stuff were trying to limit the competition by making all their dumb books super boring. Most of it is garbage, anyway."

She just told him that she charged for reading lessons by the hour, a comment that annoyed him to no end.

"Ah, good times."

While she was reminiscing on their inside jokes and banter, she heard some scratching at the door.

Noramori instinctively went on the defensive. She tightened her chakra signature, loosened her footing, and crept toward the window. Peaking around the edge, she saw two civilians wearing pieces of cloth over their faces and nondescript t-shirts and sweatpants. One of them appeared to be keeping watch while the other was doing something to the door.

Suddenly, without fear of her father coming after her, Noramori crept toward the door and wildly swung it open.

"Good evening gentlemen," Noramori was beaming at the two men, "How can I assist you today?"

The two men froze up at the sight of Noramori standing at the open door.

She looked them over. The one who was playing lookout looked like he was going to start running. His pupils had contracted to pinpricks and his brow was sweating. The other man who was messing with the door fell back onto his ass and covered himself in red paint.

He had been holding a paintbrush and a bucket of red paint.

"Looks like you've made quite a mess, hmm," Noramori spoke gleefully.

Her eyes darted to the surface of the door. In the middle, the words "Die! Demon Brat" was written on the over-painted wood.

"Yes, quite a mess indeed, and boy, your penmanship could use some work. It lacks style and originality, don't you think?" Noramori wore a cold glare and a psychotic smile as she looked back at the two men.

They were shaking in terror. Sure, they were easily three times the size of her, but what Noramori lacked in size, she made up for by being a well-known member of a widely respected clan. A clan that is known for its ruthless brutality in battle.

"Yes, ma'am!" Both men gulped as they shouted over each other.

The man in the back started slowly walking backward, inching his way toward the street, hoping to sacrifice his friends to the mercy of this pint-sized Uchiha.

"Aren't you going to help your friend up?" Noramori's head canted like a dog hearing an interesting sound. "You wouldn't want to miss out on a lesson in proper vandalism, would you?"

The man stopped attempting to inch away and stared into her eyes as her Tamashigan was on full display.

"I—I am sorry! We don't want to end up on the bad side of the Uchiha. We will just leave." The whites of his eyes were showing as he replied.

"Wrong side? Now what would give you that idea?" Noramori only smiled larger, her eyes glittering with a venomous light.

"I, well, we... Please, just let us go!" The man on the ground spoke for his currently petrified accomplice.

"Go? But I have so much advice for the two of you. I mean, clearly, that's what you came for, right? Advice," Noramori pointed at the still-wet paint, "you clearly deserve a few points, rather sharp ones, on your penmanship."

The two men looked at each other and shivered.

"Look at me, not each other."

Their eyes snapped to attention.

"Now, looking at your style, It could use a lot of work. Your line work is shaky, and you used too much paint, " Her voice was sweet, but her face and eyes were anything but, "It's also missing something. Something to really make it pop Any ideas? I can't quite put my finger on the pulse of this one."

"No, ma'am, I have no idea what could make it better," They knew they were in deep shit, and they were sweating bullets at the visage of this little girl.

"Hmm, let's think... Yes... Yes! I've got it. Noramori jumped up and down and clapped her hands in glee. "I know the perfect thing to really get your point across."

The man on the ground got up shakily.

"What? What would that be, young miss?" The man was thoroughly bewildered.

"The perfect thing. Your point was to convey ill will, right? Well, what better way to show ill will than to write your message in blood?" Noramori nodded to herself like she had discovered how to create fire.

The two men jumped at this proclamation.

"B-Blood?!"

'This little girl is going to kill us both.'

"Yes, blood!" Noramori replied, her eyes alight and her voice sickly sweet: "But where to get it? Oh! I know you both have plenty of it, don't you? Why not use your own?"

The two men bolted, attempting to run in opposite directions, but before they could even get a step away, Noramori cut them off. She didn't quite perform a body flicker, but their actions in front of the eyes of a Sharingan, especially an evolved version that could read their intentions, were pitifully easy to predict. Her being a member of a respected clan made her much faster than the average civilian, and these two men were the lowest of the low.

"Now, now, now, why leave so soon? Don't you want to try out my method?" Noramori cackled as one of the two men pissed his pants.

"You! You can't touch us; if you do, you will be arrested for assaulting civilians." The man who hadn't pissed himself cried out.

"Is that right? I suppose you're correct. Never mind that my family is the controlling force behind our local police force; that's of little consequence. Do you want to bet on which occurs first? My fingers through your throats or my incarceration at your assault," Noramori was furious.

"Please let us go!" The man who pissed himself shakily replied.

"Shut up! You will speak when I want you to speak. This home is off-limits. If I see so much as a chip in his window or a fleck of paint on this door, I will hunt you down. Consequences be damned!" Noramori's eyes were unwaveringly staring into the two men's souls.

The other man pissed himself.

"Disgusting! You are both pigs. Weak and ugly. It's a good thing I like pork. I wonder what your blood would taste like," Her tongue slipped out and licked her teeth as she stared at them like a predator, "Go on, answer me, are you going to continue to vandalize this poor boy's home?"

They cowered before her diminutive form.

"ANSWER ME!" Spit flew from Noramori's mouth as she screamed like a snarling animal.

"No Ma'am! We won't! We promise! Just, please! Please don't kill us." They both stumbled over their words as they rushed to reply to her.

"Hmm? I don't know if I believe you. Maybe just one little taste, " She stepped toward them, and they flinched away from her, "Oh, this isn't any fun; you're so weak you wouldn't be much of a meal. Now I am going to go back inside, and if I still see this on his door when I leave, I will find you and I will dance in your blood. Is that understood?"

She didn't wait for their reply as she deactivated her Dojutsu, darted past them, and slammed the door shut behind her. She could hear scrabbling and shouting from the other side of the door as the two men ran off to presumably get something to clean the paint off with.

Noramori shook her head.

"Fucking Ludites"

"Noramori," Naruto sleepily spoke from where he was waking up on the couch, "What was that? Were you talking to someone at the door?"

"Must have been the wind; I just went for a little stroll. Fresh air and sunlight do the body good," Her face was the picture of innocence as she replied.

Naruto looked confused, but before he could reply, Noramori spoke with her signature semi-psychotic sweet smile.

"So Naruto. Why did I wake up wearing different clothes in your bed of all places?"

"Wait no. It's not what it looks like. You don't remember?" Naruto sputtered, his voice laced with apprehension. He recognized this smile, but it never led to anything good.

Noramori broke out in a fit of giggles, and Naruto looked confused at first.

As her giggles devolved into full-belly laughter, he began to laugh as well. He didn't know what was so funny, but he loved to see her smiling and happy after last night.

Noramori was on her hands and knees as she laughed, and she couldn't seem to stop. Her laughter got more and more maniacal, slipping toward the unhinged, and a few tears began to stream down her face. She was staring at the ground, so Naruto hadn't noticed them yet, but he recognized the odd change in her laughter.

"Noramori? Are you alright?" Naruto spoke in a concerned voice.

Noramori didn't look up at him and spoke in a quiet whisper, "Thank you."

"For what?"

She looked up at him with a big, genuine smile; there were tears of raw emotion streaming down her face, and a bit of snot was running out of her nose.

"Thank you for being you," her voice twitched as she spoke these words.

Naruto was momentarily taken aback by her words and then blushed in embarrassment.

"Urrr... You're welcome?" He didn't really know how to reply to that one. He wasn't used to people appreciating him, let alone appreciating his existence.

He offered her a clean towel to wipe her face with and helped her to her feet.

"You don't have to thank me though. What are friends for?"

Noramori stared at him and then squealed with glee as she launched herself at Naruto.

She hugged him so tight that his eyes almost popped out of his head from the pressure. Her thoughts turned to the words that were written on his door.

"Please don't you ever die; promise me that. Okay?"

"HAH! Nothing can kill me! I'm going to be the strongest Hokage yet! Believe it! " Naruto wanted desperately to pry her off of his creaking ribs, but his personality forced him to be a ray of sunshine in this shitstorm of a world.

Just then, Noramori heard the sound of someone frantically scrubbing at the door, and she burst out laughing again.

"What's that? Is someone there?" Naruto attempted to extricate himself from her vice-like grip but failed.

"Probably the wind." She didn't skip a beat with her bald-faced lie, "It will probably die down in a moment. You won't have to deal with the wind anymore. I'll make sure of that."

Naruto cocked his eyebrow and looked at the back of her head out of the corner of his eye.

"The wind?"

'What a strange girl.'